The gist rose up hot and and turned Anton's limbs heavy, and Anton exhaled slowly, then inhaled again, holding back that force of unthinking rage. "I am not," he said, low and gravelly because of the burn in his throat, "speaking to you, cac ar oineach."

He pushed up against Skulduggery's ribs as if his weight alone could force Skulduggery into cognizance. "Hear me, Skulduggery. Is this how you remember Mistress Aoife? Is this how you repay Ghastly his centuries of friendship? Ní dhíolann dearmad fiacha!"