When Anton awoke it was with the sensation of having been through a recent battle, if not pummeled by the enemy then worked over-hard. But the ceiling above him was familiar, and Anton stretched in place and then rolled to get to his feet and walk out the stiffness before properly taking stock.

They were all still swaddled like children, sleeping or waking and confused. Anton rubbed his bearded jaw and glanced at the clock, and was unsurprised to see a great length of time had passed--though the length of it was a touch alarming, certainly. Then there was the pendant around his neck, which was new but too familiar in crystal, and shared among the Foreigners too much to be anything other than important.

He didn't see Skulduggery there. So that was not a dream, at least. Ah well; with this many people around Anton would have to see to the kitchen as soon as he could, and he would need the help. It had been a long time since Anton had stepped through slumped bodies in such a way; it had happened frequently with the Dead Men in one tent, especially after the raid on the magical opium dens. Still he did so with ease until he reached Dante, and knelt by the man to shake his shoulder, alert for an instinctive reaction in the event Dante awoke battling.