Erskine was hunched over in the chair next to Hopeless, tucked as tightly against the mind-reader as he could manage without breaking some kind of law of space and matter, with his head down and his forehead resting in his hands. He didn't look up, didn't look at any of them, and he didn't say anything when Anton asked for one of the Elementals to volunteer. Without Skulduggery and Rover that left only two of them--himself, and Ghastly. They couldn't have planned it worse.

He didn't react to Saracen's goading either. Some part of him knew exactly what they were trying to do, both of them, but it felt awkward and misplaced. Before... before her he'd been able to joke about almost anything, even in some of the worst situations imaginable. He couldn't manage it now. Even with Hopeless back--Hopeless--and right next to him, smiling, he couldn't force up the necessary energy to get indignant about something so trivial. Let Ghastly make the damned tea.

At least Saracen had finally broken down and come over to hug Hopeless, as soon as Erskine had pulled away. Erskine couldn't even muster the energy to be upset about it. Saracen had the right to want to avoid him. They all did. That Hopeless wasn't was some kind of minor miracle.

He should have planned for this better. Should have decided what to say to Ghastly in the year he'd had safe and free. Should have known that Saracen's arrival was only the start.