“The Soul Catcher is our property,” Craven said to Tenebrae. “They have no right to dictate to us when we can have it back. We should demand it be returned to us immediately.”

“In which case,” said Wreath, “they will ignore our demand then we will look weak and ineffectual in their eyes.”

“They can’t ignore us!” Craven spluttered.

“They can and they will. If you were ever to leave the safety of the Temple, you would quickly realise that nobody likes us. They think we’re untrustworthy and dangerous.”

“Then they should fear us!”

“And if we had a history of stepping out into the world, they most assuredly would. But it is widely known that we Necromancers like to stay in our temples with our schemes and our plots, and we really don’t like getting our hands dirty. Lord Vile, of course, being the obvious exception.”

“Traitor,” Quiver said softly, in a tone that almost conveyed emotion.

“Now is not the time to talk of Lord Vile,” said Tenebrae. “He was once our Death Bringer, he is not any more and so our search continues. Solomon, you will offer to take the Soul Catcher off their hands once the Remnant is trapped.”

“Sir?”

“Tell them you will take it back to the Midnight Hotel yourself, or tell them you want to study the contraption once it has a soul inside it. I don’t care what lie you use, just bring me the Soul Catcher and bring me the Remnant. Can you do that?”

“Of course. May I ask why?”

“No, you may not,” Craven sneered. Wreath shifted his gaze to him and Craven held that gaze for three whole seconds before crumbling beneath it.

“The Cain girl,” Tenebrae said, changing the subject with no need for subtlety. “She knows about the Passage?”

“Pleasant backed me into a corner,” Wreath admitted. “It was either tell her or risk losing her.”

“I remind you, Cleric Wreath, that we do not all share your conviction that she is the one we’re looking for. She’s far too young for a start.”

“She’s a natural, your Eminence. She’s taken to Necromancy faster than anyone I’ve seen since Vile.”

“Not auspicious company,” muttered Quiver.

“Maybe not,” Wreath said, “but she has the potential to surpass even him. She’s the one we’ve been waiting for. I’m sure of it.”

“His Eminence is quite correct, however,” Craven said, finding his voice again after far too short a time. “She’s much too young. Plus, she’s entrenched with the skeleton detective. Do you really think you can pry her from his side?”

“Not easily,” Wreath said, “but it can be done. Skulduggery Pleasant is a fantastically flawed individual.”