Without thinking, for once without obfuscating or pretending, Anton steps forward and pulls Ghastly into a hug, and holds him tight.

"There wouldn't have been a need for sorry, if he hadn't," he points out, and then realises that possibly isn't helpful. Anton exhales slowly, to let the heat of the gist bypass him, to focus on the quiver in Ghastly's shoulders. Anton closes his eyes and rests his head on Ghastly's shoulder, though is a bit of a hunch for him.

"Ghastly--"

With Erskine and Skulduggery, Anton had used Vile as the comparison. He couldn't do that here. Ghastly didn't know--Anton hoped Ghastly didn't know. But he might have to find out. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

"He was in love with Hopeless," Anton says instead, because he doesn't know what else to say. "He was in love with Hopeless and then Hopeless was gone, and he blamed himself, and he was too ashamed to come to us for help. So he wanted to make a world where sorcerers didn't have to hide anymore, where they didn't have to be ashamed. He just ... couldn't escape the war. He couldn't see a way around it that didn't involve subterfuge and violence. So he was willing to sacrifice us ... and himself ... to get it done."