Was that worse, or better? Hard to say. His wife was dead; even a recording of her would not be quite her, could it, even with what Skulduggery had said about the way Echo Stones were regarded. Raine thought perhaps the worst might be the hope of it, so suddenly raised and dashed. That Skulduggery would have thought to see his wife again, converse with her, and then-- only a memory.

"From what you said, that's not the way Echo Stones usually work." Raine frowned a little, moving on to the practical consideration rather than lingering on the emotional at the moment. "The way it sustains itself shouldn't be possible; what it contains is atypical if not also impossible, in one way or another. I'd guess it's a creation of the Dreaming, not simply something brought here-- though perhaps that's true for the rest of the things we see from our worlds here. Not summoned, simply made from our memories." Maybe, in one way or another, Skulduggery had brought this forth himself, by missing her. Impossible to create a proper Echo Stone, so the Dreaming had... improvised.

All supposition. She fell silent there, well aware that she was filling space with her words, that she was intruding on a loss she had no real way to touch. Raine couldn't quite make herself go, though; maybe it was the uncharacteristic hollowness in Skulduggery's voice. "Would it be better, if it was her?" she asked, quiet. Trying for sympathetic.