by Derek Landy
“I was in the water,” Guild continued, “and I tried to imagine what it would have been like to have detonated that bomb with all those people around. You saved over 80,000 lives today, boy.”
Fletcher’s smile kind of froze. “I…I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“I owe you everything.”
“Uh…wow.”
“I owe all of you everything.”
“But mostly me,” Fletcher said.
“Scarab is still alive,” said Skulduggery. “Marr has taken him into custody.”
Guild’s face slackened for a moment. “Then she will learn the truth.”
“She might keep quiet about it,” Ghastly offered.
“No. No, she won’t. And she shouldn’t. After today, after what I was prepared to do, I think I deserve to be held accountable for my actions. If I am brought up on charges, so be it.”
“Thurid,” Skulduggery said, “we’re talking about possible jail time.”
“I am aware of the implications, Detective. But as for right now, I must go to my family. Thank you again, all of you.” He walked away.
“But mostly me,” Fletcher called after him and Valkyrie punched his arm. The moment her fist made contact they teleported.
She looked around. They were in Kenspeckle’s Medical Bay.
“I thought you might want that bite looked at,” Fletcher grinned as he rubbed his arm. His hair was flattened and spiky in all the wrong places.
“Your hair looks wonderful,” she said.
He laughed and was about to retort when she grabbed his collar and pulled him into her. She clamped her lips around his mouth and mashed her face into his. He took a step back in surprise and she went with him, stepping in a patch of wet floor. Her legs went from under her and she flailed as she fell, whacking him in the throat on the way down. She looked up at him as he gagged and coughed, and from across the corridor she could hear Tanith laughing hysterically.
“I think I need practice,” Valkyrie muttered.
49
ESCORTING THE PRISONER
“How many times have I saved your life?” Kenspeckle Grouse asked her. “More than a few, I’d wager. I’ve cleaned cuts and sewn wounds and fixed bones, and every time you leave here I tell you to be careful. Are you ever careful? It seems to me you never are. Do you think I’m joking when I tell you to take care? To stay out of trouble? To try and not get yourself killed? It appears to me, to poor, neglected, misunderstood, unappreciated little old me, that you do think I’m joking. This worries me. Apart from anything else, it credits me with a sense of humour I neither possess nor desire.”
“I don’t think you’re joking,” Valkyrie offered.
“A vampire bite,” Kenspeckle continued. “You’re a victim of a vampire bite. Do you really think this is an appropriate injury for a young woman to have?”
“Probably not, though now I’m curious as to what is an appropriate injury.”
“You got yourself bitten, Valkyrie. Your magic clothes didn’t stop that from happening, did they? Your sharp tongue didn’t fend off those sharp teeth, did it? You could have died, you silly girl, or at the very least be turned into one of those things.”
She looked at him and said nothing.
His craggy face softened. “The cure for a vampire bite is radically different depending on how long the victim waits before seeking treatment. You’re lucky you came to me immediately afterwards.”
“I’m cured?”
“You’re cured.”
“Does that mean you’ll stop referring to me as a victim?”
He sighed. “Sometimes my bedside manner leaves something to be desired. I don’t mean to lecture you all the time.”
“I don’t mind it.”
“But I just wish you’d be more careful.”
“So do I.”
“And how is the headache?”
“Almost gone. I don’t know what’s causing them. Maybe my brain is leaking.”
“For a brain to leak, you would first need a brain.” Kenspeckle smiled, and his smile wavered. “I think Tanith Low is scared of me.”
“Tanith’s not scared of anyone.”
“Fear and hatred are easily confused.”
“Just give her time. She knows it wasn’t you who hurt her. How are you doing though?”
“I’m fine. A nightmare or two, but that’s to be expected. It’s a blessing actually, the fact that I can’t remember a thing that happened. I think that would be too much for me to handle. I never wanted to hurt anyone else ever again.”
“You didn’t hurt Tanith,” Valkyrie said as firmly as she could. “The Remnant did. You’re you now, the Kenspeckle who lectures me while he heals me. He’s the only one that’s real.”
“You are wise beyond your years.”
“I’ve always thought so.”
Kenspeckle kept her confined to bed for two days. Tanith was transferred to the bed next to her. Skulduggery called by a lot and Ghastly visited on the second day. Fletcher was always around and China, true to her word, didn’t put in an appearance.
By the time she was leaving, Valkyrie’s wounds were healed and the scars were fading. Marr called to tell them that Thurid Guild had requested that Skulduggery and Valkyrie be the ones to transport him from the Sanctuary’s holding cell to the prison. Skulduggery had agreed, more out of curiosity than anything else, and he picked Valkyrie up on the street outside Kenspeckle’s building.
“We’re early,” she said as she buckled her seatbelt.
“I doubt Guild will care too much,” Skulduggery responded, his sunglasses in place over his scarf and his hat pulled low. “He’s looking at close to 300 years for his part in the Vanguard assassination and the cover-up. I don’t think ten minutes is going to make that much of a difference to him, to be honest.”
“Why do you think he asked for us anyway? Surely there are friendlier faces to see him off?”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you? Maybe he wants to thank you again for saving his family. Or maybe he has something to tell us.”
“A secret?”
“Confidential information perhaps. He is Grand Mage, after all.”
“Was.”
“Oh,” Skulduggery said. “Yes.”
“I wonder who’ll take over. I wonder who’ll want to. In the past three years one Grand Mage has been murdered and the other sent to jail. Who’s going to want that job?”
“There will always be people who want power, Valkyrie. Never underestimate greed.”
They stopped at a set of traffic lights and a group of lads stared at the Bentley until it moved off again.
“Sometimes I wish you could drive a less noticeable car,” she sighed.
“I can,” Skulduggery said. “I just choose not to.”
“You know, I was thinking…”
“Never a good start to any conversation.”
“Shut up. But I was thinking, maybe you should ask China to whip you up a façade tattoo, the same way she did for Ghastly. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about your scarf and sunglasses.”
He shrugged. “I’m considering it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“If she can do it, why not get it done?”
“What kind of face would you have? Would it be yours? Your own one, I mean. The one you used to have?”
Skulduggery was quiet for a moment. “That face is dead,” he said eventually. “Bringing it back would be…”
“Painful?”
He looked at her. “I suppose.”
She nodded, then smiled. “Seeing you with a face would be weird. Do you think you’d have hair?”
“Oh yes. Hair is a must.”
“Would you have a moustache?”
“Why would I have a moustache?”
“I’m not sure. What about your ears?”
“I’d have ears too, yes.”
“I can’t imagine you with ears.”
A few minutes later they p
ulled into the parking lot behind the Waxworks Museum and got out of the car. They walked to the museum door.
“I’m with Fletcher,” Valkyrie said quickly. Skulduggery turned his head to her and didn’t say anything.
“We’re together, kind of a boyfriend/girlfriend thing,” she continued, all too aware of how stupid she was sounding. They walked through the museum corridors.
“Well?” she prompted. “What do you think? Do you have an opinion on it? Are you going to say something?”
“Yes,” he said at last.
He nodded to the wax figure of Phil Lynott, who told them they were expected, and Skulduggery led the way down the steps. Detective Pennant greeted them at the bottom and told them to wait in the Meeting Room while he brought Guild to them. They started walking again and Skulduggery spoke.
“Valkyrie, ever since you brought me back I’ve been distracted. My concentration hasn’t been one hundred per cent and my focus is…lacking. I knew there was something between you two, but I didn’t see it. I needed you to tell me. Who knows how all this might have gone if I hadn’t been so distracted?”
“The Faceless Ones hunted you and tortured you,” she said. “That would distract just about anyone.”
“But I can’t afford to be distracted any more. Darquesse is coming and we need to be at our sharpest. Somehow, for some reason, you are intrinsically linked to what is going to happen.”
“Ghastly’s mother was a Sensitive,” she said. “He told me about this just before you went through the portal. She looked into the future and saw you and me fighting a creature of darkness. Ghastly said it was unimaginable evil – the world on the edge of destruction.”
“Sounds a lot like what Finbar and Cassandra are seeing.”
They arrived at the Meeting Room and walked in. It was empty. Valkyrie took a deep breath and forced herself to continue speaking.
“Every vision we’ve been told about so far,” she said, “they all end the same way. I die. I just want to be strong enough to save everyone else. I want to save my family.”
Skulduggery looked at her.
“So this,” she said, “what’s happening and what’s going to happen, this isn’t your fault. You can’t control everything and not everything is your responsibility. At Croke Park you said something about how you don’t want to drag me around after you just so I can die beside you. I wanted to tell you then, but I didn’t have the words and I didn’t have the time. I’m here because I choose to be. You save my life. I save yours. That’s how we work.”
“Until the end.”
“Until the end.”
He stepped closer to her. “Thank you for saving me,” he said softly, and wrapped the bones of his arms around her. Valkyrie smiled and hugged him back.
They parted as the door opened and Pennant led Thurid Guild in. Guild’s hands were shackled before him.
“He’s all yours,” Pennant said and left them.
“You’re early,” Guild said. “Does the idea of my impending incarceration make you so eager you couldn’t wait for the appointed time?”
“It’s good to see you too, Thurid,” Skulduggery said. “Are you ready to go?”
It looked like Guild was going to come back with another sarcastic remark, but then his face tightened and he nodded. Suddenly Valkyrie was feeling sorry for him. He was a man who had only been trying to do the right thing, and because of it, he was going to be taken away from his family and he’d probably never see them again.
They walked out, Guild between them, passing sorcerers who averted their eyes from the former Grand Mage. Valkyrie didn’t feel right. This was too much like being an executioner, walking the condemned man to the chamber.
“How long before the Sanctuary is up and running again?” Skulduggery asked.
“A few more days,” Guild answered, sounding relieved to be given the opportunity to talk about something other than his future. “Most of the artefacts have been returned to the Repository and some departments have already resumed work. The inmates will be taken back to the Gaol tonight, under heavy security of course. Not that they mind. I expect they’re quite appreciative of any opportunity to be out of those cages. At least I won’t be in a cage when I’m in prison.”
“Good man,” Skulduggery said. “Keep looking on the bright side.”
Guild glared at him. “Why are you transporting me anyway? A feeble attempt to get in some last-minute taunts? It really is quite pathetic.”
Skulduggery’s head tilted. “We’re transporting you because you requested it.”
Guild laughed bitterly. “What is this nonsense? No, I didn’t.”
“I spoke to Detective Marr. She said you asked for us.”
“Why would I ask for you two? I don’t like you. I certainly have no wish to spend my last few moments outside of a prison cell with you.”
They turned the corner and a man passed them wearing a raincoat with the hood pulled up. Valkyrie glimpsed his face.
“Myron?” she said, but he didn’t turn.
“Myron Stray?” Skulduggery asked her.
“I’m pretty sure,” Valkyrie said.
“It can’t be,” Guild said as they watched the man walk on. “The only people allowed past the Cleavers are people on the list – and Stray would never be on the list.”
“I’m fairly certain that was him,” Valkyrie insisted.
“Myron,” Skulduggery called loudly.
Detective Pennant rounded the far corner, heard Skulduggery’s call and intercepted the man in the raincoat, yanking down the hood. Myron Stray had trails of dried blood around his ears and his mouth was tightly shut, even as his eyes bulged wildly.
“He’s punctured his eardrums,” Skulduggery said.
Valkyrie frowned. “Why?”
“Because someone told him to.”
Stray jerked away from Pennant’s grip and his hand came out of his pocket. Pennant saw the Desolation Engine with its churning red liquid and he immediately backed off.
“He’s being controlled,” Skulduggery said. “Run!” he roared. “Evacuate the building!”
Valkyrie could see the tears in Stray’s eyes and the bomb went off. It exploded with a soft whump. The liquid turned to a ball of red energy and the energy expanded. It seared the flesh from Stray’s bones and boiled his blood to steam. It travelled across his body, his bones turning to ash. The ground he had been standing on was now a carpet of dust. Pennant tried to run, but he was far too slow. He didn’t even have time to scream.
Skulduggery wrapped an arm around Valkyrie’s waist – with his other he gripped Guild – and they rose off the ground and flew. They flew through the corridor, whipping by startled sorcerers who saw what was coming, but were powerless to escape. Valkyrie watched the walls crumble and the people die, and still the ball of energy grew and chased them, faster than they could possibly move.
When the walls crumbled, the ceiling caved in and Skulduggery took them upwards. They veered to avoid falling masonry and the ball of energy found Guild and he screamed as his trailing leg disintegrated. They rose through darkness with his screams, then they burst into brightness and rain, and still they rose, and the ball of energy reached its peak and retracted.
They landed on a rooftop. Guild had passed out, the stump of his leg cauterised by the very energy that had wounded him. Skulduggery laid him down and joined Valkyrie at the edge. The Waxworks Museum cracked and tumbled into the chasm of dust. They watched the Bentley topple and crunch down below street level, the ground opening up to swallow it. The building they were standing on shook, but stayed solid. And then the rumbling was over, and there were only the clouds of dust and car alarms.
50
BACK TO HAGGARD
A little over thirty-two hours later, Valkyrie climbed through her bedroom window. The reflection stepped into the mirror and she absorbed its memories. She got dressed in the clothes it had been wearing and went downstairs. She made her mother a cup of tea and sat at the kit
chen table and watched her father demonstrate the new baby seat he’d bought for the car. She did her best to smile at his antics.
The Sanctuary was gone. Destroyed. Twenty-nine sorcerers and twenty-one Cleavers had been killed. Davina Marr was missing and every surviving agent was hunting for her.
They’d questioned Scarab in his prison cell and he denied all knowledge. He claimed he had never been in contact with Marr. She was not part of his plan. He enjoyed the fact that such destruction was brought down by one of the Sanctuary’s own agents.
Skulduggery didn’t know why Marr had done what she did, but he knew how. The Desolation Engine that had been recovered at the castle had never been handed over to be deactivated. Marr had kept it and then given it to Myron Stray. She had made sure his name was on the list so that he could enter the Sanctuary without incident, and she had done her best to make sure that Skulduggery and Valkyrie were there also. Using Stray’s true name, she had commanded him to burst his own eardrums so that he couldn’t hear orders that would conflict with hers. Skulduggery theorised that she would have instructed him to keep his mouth shut and warn nobody of what he was about to do. She ordered him to do everything but be unafraid, and so Myron Stray had walked into the Sanctuary fully aware of what he was about to do, but completely unable to prevent it.
As far as the rest of the country knew, the old Waxworks Museum had collapsed all by itself, and it was a miracle that nobody was hurt. The truth had no place in the newspapers. The dead were mourned privately and quietly, the rubble was cleared and the giant hole was filled in. In a few more days, Skulduggery had told her, there would be no sign that the Sanctuary had ever existed there.
Valkyrie went upstairs, pulled on shorts and a vest and went to bed early with the rain gently tapping the window. Within five minutes she was asleep.
51
WHISPERS
The nightmare woke her.
She sat up and slowly swung her legs out of bed. It was cold and her room was dark. The house was quiet. It was the middle of the night. Her nightmare clung to her with its smoky tendrils, clouding her mind, and she became aware of a low whispering in the room.
