"Mud. Dirt. Teeth." He muses softly, "Sarcomancy sounds like something Skulduggery would say and expect me to know what he's talking about."

Hmmm. Now he's torn on how much to say, decisions decisions and he drums his folded fingers against his arms, "Not Friday. The Erda Flow. But I don't think we can simply speak to her when we wish. Or maybe we can, I haven't tried, and have no wish to talk to her ever again. She's told me nothing but terrible things."