by Derek Landy
They went at it, sword against nails, and now Annis could see something new in Tanith’s eyes. The panic was gone, the desperation was gone, and Annis suddenly realised it had never been there in the first place. She knew, instinctively, that this had all been planned. But why? What could Tanith possibly have to gain by simply defending, and dodging attacks?
Tanith ducked under another swipe and dropped to the ground. She swung her foot out, hitting Annis in the back of the leg. Annis fell, tried to get up, but Tanith smashed a boot heel into her jaw.
Dazed, Annis swiped at where Tanith had just been, and her nails found nothing but air. She felt something tighten around her ankle, and looked up.
“What’re you doing?” she asked dully.
Tanith had tied the thick rope to Annis’s leg, and for the first time Annis realised that the other end of the rope trailed out of the cave. Tanith gave the rope a little tug, then stood up and stepped back.
“It’s morning,” Tanith said. “See outside? That’s sunlight, that is.”
Annis shook her head to clear it. “So?”
“So,” Tanith continued, “there’s a farmer out there on a tractor, and the other end of this rope is tied to that tractor, and his instructions are, when he feels a tug on this rope, he is to start driving, very slowly, away.”
Annis frowned. The rope was beginning to tighten. After a moment, it was taut, and Annis felt herself begin to move towards the cave mouth.
“You’ll turn to stone,” Tanith said, “for all eternity. You don’t want that, do you?”
Annis, her odd-coloured eyes wide, sat up and slashed at the thick rope with her nails.
“You’ve gone a bit blunt, I’m afraid,” Tanith said. “Striking my sword was bad enough, but that cave wall? That’s what did it.”
Annis squealed as she was slowly dragged towards the sunlight. She slashed again and again at the rope.
“There’s no way you’re going to cut through that in time,” Tanith said. She took a pair of wrist irons from her coat, and tossed them on the ground. “Put those on.”
“Never!” Annis screamed.
“OK.”
Annis attacked the rope with renewed vigour. She cut through one strand. By the looks of it, only another two hundred to go. She twisted around.
“Scrannel! Scrannel wake up!” Scrannel didn’t move. He snored gently.
Annis glared at Tanith. “You can’t do this! You can’t!”
“You eat people,” Tanith said. “I pretty much can, unless you put those shackles on and let me take you in.”
The sunlight was mere inches away.
“Fine!” Annis screeched. Tanith kicked the shackles over to her and Annis clicked them on around her wrists, the chain dangling. Immediately she felt her powers fade. Her skin began to lose its blue tint, and her teeth and nails shortened and her jaw relocated.
“I hate you,” Annis said.
Tanith nodded. “A lot of people in shackles do.”
“If I ever get out…”
“You’ll come after me? Tear me apart? Cut off my head? I’ve heard it all before, Annis. It doesn’t impress me.”
“If I ever get out of prison,” Annis said, ignoring her, “I’ll find you and eat you.”
Tanith smiled. “Well, OK then. Haven’t heard that one in a while.” She took hold of Annis’s arm and pulled her to her feet. “I’ve got a sack outside,” she said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wear it until I get you to the van, just to keep the sunlight off. Hope you understand.”
Annis perked up. “Is it a nice sack?”
“It’s pretty stylish, as sacks go.”
On their way out, they passed Scrannel, who was snoring peacefully in the dirt. Annis gave him an affectionate kick, and he mumbled something and went back to snoring.
“Boyfriend?” Tanith asked.
“Pet,” Annis answered.
Tanith nodded. “All the best ones are.”
he was food, she was told as they dragged her to the cell. She was lunch. She was little more than a snack, thrown to the beast to reward it for blood spilled. The men were strong, and she kicked at them and they hit her, but still she kicked. She would not go gently to her death. Not her. Not Valkyrie Cain.
Her knees scraped over rough stones and rubble and bled through her jeans. The cold shackles dug into her wrists. Her struggles echoed down through the concrete corridor, as wide as the school running track. The sunlight was too far behind to throw shadows. The darkness was too close in front.
The man holding her arm let go, and keys jangled as he went to the cell door. He slid open a hatch before he unlocked it, to check on the beast. She felt the other man tense, and for a moment his attention was away from her. She twisted from his grip. The light was too far away, so she ran into the darkness. Laughter followed her.
She ran fast. Her tennis shoes splashed in dark pools of stagnant water, and the uneven ground threatened to cut short her escape. She kept her shackled arms up, like a boxer, to protect her head should she run into a wall or a low-hanging pipe. Her eyes were adjusting to the world of shadows, and she couldn’t risk a backwards glance.
There was a break in the solid mass to her left, and she veered into a branching corridor. The cold registered on her bare arms, but she didn’t feel it. She wouldn’t feel anything until the adrenaline faded.
Their voices came, calling for her. Cell doors, iron and old, blurred by on either side. There were people in some of those cells. She could hear them, reacting to the mocking calls of the men. In other cells, there were beasts. They snarled and snapped and hurled themselves against the iron, excited and bloodthirsty, adding to the cacophony.
Concrete steps led upwards to a faint yellow light. Valkyrie left the darkness and took the steps three at a time. The staircase spiralled and the light grew stronger. Another corridor, long and thin, the sunlight streaming through the narrow windows on one side. At the end of the corridor, a wooden door. She ran past the narrow windows and through them saw a small stadium, basic stone seating curving round a lowered arena.
Where the hell had they taken her?
The wooden door opened before she got to it. The man with the keys smiled. Oddly, for someone so dirty and brutal, he had a nice smile. Behind her, the other man was blocking her retreat.
“You’d better be coming along now, girl,” the man with the keys said.
Valkyrie went to a window, turned sideways, and squeezed the upper half of her body through. There was an open space of flat concrete twelve metres below, just before the seating started. She managed to get her hips through, but a hand grabbed her leg as she fell. She swung into the wall and did her best to loosen the grip. The man with the keys could barely get his head through the window. His fingers were tight on her ankle.
“Go down and catch her,” he said to his friend.
Coins fell from Valkyrie’s pocket as she dug into her jeans with her shackled hands, searching for something to break his hold. Something sharp. She unbuckled her belt and pulled it free, held the buckle in her palm with the prong sticking up through her index and middle fingers, and closed her fist. She curled her body upwards, stabbing the prong repeatedly into the back of his hand. It was a crude dagger, and limited. He cursed and yelled and gritted his teeth, but didn’t let go.
The muscles in her abdomen were burning. She had to break his hold now. She wouldn’t get another chance.
Valkyrie released his forearm and grabbed his hand, doing her best to prise a finger loose. She could raise his fingertip off her leg, but that was it. She heard him laugh at her efforts.
Her muscles screaming at her, she dug the buckle prong beneath his fingernail. He cried out for his friend to hurry up. She squirmed the prong deeper and he cursed at her, the pitch of his voice rising with the pain. Finally his nail lifted and she fell with his screeches, turned her body and tucked her chin to her chest. She hit the concrete with her shoulder and tried to absorb the impact through her side. She knew how
to fall. She’d been taught how to fall.
But she’d never fallen from this height.
She lay on her back and tried to breathe but couldn’t. She tried to move but couldn’t. Her arms wouldn’t push her up and her legs wouldn’t bend.
She made a sound, a long involuntary groan. Her lungs were trying to inflate. Her stomach muscles were bunching up and she had to fight the urge to curl into a ball. When the first bit of control returned to her, she arched her back and groaned again.
A sliver of breath, in through her lips.
Valkyrie turned over, got up, saw the other man running for her. She stumbled away from him, still trying to breathe. He was fast and he was gaining. Her legs struggled to find a rhythm, but at least she was running again. Valkyrie jumped on to the stone seating, leaping from seat to seat, moving diagonally down to the arched tunnel that led out of the stadium. He was behind her all the way.
Her breathing was ragged, but back under her control as she dropped from the last seat. The tunnel lay ahead, opening out on the other side to a view of magnificent green countryside. She ran for it. She could lose him in the fields, or the trees, or even swim a river to get away. She could flag down a car on the road. She could pick up a rock and smash his brains in. Once she got through that tunnel, she could do a lot of things.
She was halfway through when there was a rattle and a rumble, and a gate began to lower. It was one of those old latticed gates, the kind that protected medieval castles. It was waist-height as Valkyrie neared, and she had to throw herself down and roll beneath it, springing up immediately on the other side.
Her pursuer shot his arm through the gate, but she was well out of reach.
She looked round, hands behind her head, sucking in air and gearing up for the next run. She was standing in a large makeshift car park that pushed back the countryside as far as it would go. Hills of green rolled like frozen waves towards the horizon. To her left was a forest that spread unchecked, enveloping everything within reach, and to her right were houses in the distance. She counted seven, isolated from each other on the sides of the hills. But for all Valkyrie knew there was a town beyond that clump of trees, or a village hidden by that hedgerow.
“Don’t go too far,” the man behind her said. “We’ll get you soon enough.”
She took off at a quick jog, following the trail that led away from the car park. She could hear Skulduggery’s voice in her head, telling her to stay off the path, telling her that was making herself an easy target. But the trail would lead to a road, Valkyrie knew, and a road would mean cars, and other people.
She took the trail downhill, where it evened out and became a small road. She turned the jog into a run. The road joined another, and as she approached a tractor passed. She waved but the driver didn’t see her, and it was round the next bend before she reached the junction. She took off after it, wishing she had something with which to tie her hair back. She didn’t like running with it loose.
The tractor was ahead of her, trundling on its way. It was old and, by the look of it, ran primarily on rust. It didn’t have any wing mirrors, so Valkyrie’s frantic waves were going unnoticed. She had to slow, she had to, and she glared at the tractor as it trundled on.
She heard another engine, a car or a van, coming from behind, and had visions of the van the men had been driving when they’d grabbed her. She was about to jump into the ditch when a blue sedan came round the corner and stopped sharply. The woman behind the wheel stared at her, then opened the door and stepped out.
“Are you OK?” the woman asked. She was about sixty, with short grey hair.
“Two men are chasing me. I need to get away.”
The woman waved her hand at the passenger side. “Get in.”
Valkyrie did as she was told, and buckled up as the woman put the car in gear.
“What happened?” the woman asked as they overtook the tractor and sped on. “Who’s chasing you?”
What was Valkyrie going to say? Was she going to tell the truth? Of course not. “Bad men,” she said. “They kidnapped me, brought me here. I got away, but they’re chasing me. I have to get back to my friends. They’ll be able to help.”
“What’s your name?”
“Valkyrie,” she said without thinking.
“Valkyrie… what an unusual name. I’m Grace. I’m not from around here, so you’re going to have to tell me where to go.”
“I don’t even know where we are.”
“I think we’re in Kildare. I’m so sorry, I’m kind of lost.”
“Do you have a phone? They took mine.”
Grace winced apologetically. “I have, but the battery’s run out, and I left the car charger at home. I think the best thing we can do is just head for the nearest town.” She took a right turn. “I passed one about five minutes ago.”
Valkyrie frowned. “We’re going back?”
“Not the same way. I think this road loops around.”
“I really think we should be getting as far away from here as possible.”
“You don’t have to be afraid. There’s no one about.”
“I don’t think you’re getting how serious this is. They’re not going to just let me escape.” Valkyrie frowned. “Are you sure we’re not headed back on the exact same road we were on? This looks familiar.”
“Oh, no,” said Grace, “I’m quite sure. Why are you looking at me like that? You seem almost… Oh, my. You think I know those men, don’t you? You think I’m bringing you back to them?”
“Let me out,” said Valkyrie. “Let me out right—”
The van reared up at Grace’s window and swerved into them, and there was a crunch of metal and the world spun and Grace was screaming. The car dipped sickeningly and hit something and the air bags rushed out, knocking Valkyrie’s head back.
Suddenly it was still. The engine was running, but they weren’t moving.
Valkyrie opened her eyes. She heard Grace moan, and started to push the air bag down. They were in a ditch. Her thumb clicked the seat-belt release catch, and she reached for the door, but it wouldn’t open. She moved her head, looking back at Grace. There was movement outside. Someone was opening the driver-side door.
“Help,” Grace said softly.
The man reached in and took hold of Grace’s head, and he twisted until her neck broke. Then he looked over at Valkyrie.
“Told you we’d get you,” he said.
They dragged her to the cell and this time they didn’t take their attention off her. The man with the keys opened the iron door and his companion threw her inside.
Valkyrie stumbled in. Her foot hit something and she fell. The door shut and darkness swarmed. She stayed very still, on her hands and knees, and listened for the beast, but she could only hear her own breathing.
Moving slowly, she tracked her hand back to whatever she’d tripped over. There was a cold metal ring bolted to the middle of the floor, and a thick chain led from it and snaked towards the far right corner of the cell.
Valkyrie moved backwards, wincing every time she made a sound. She got to the door, her foot loud against the iron. After waiting a moment to make sure this hadn’t roused the beast to attack, she crawled sideways to her left, sat back into the corner, and pulled her knees into her chest.
She held her hand in front of her face and couldn’t even see movement. The ground was smooth, with no rocks to use as weapons.
She still couldn’t hear the beast. Had they been lying? Toying with her? She thought of Grace and the sound her neck had made, and she folded her arms across her chest and brought her knees in closer. She was starting to shake. It was freezing in here and the adrenaline had worn off. She felt the panic rise, from her belly to her throat, and bit her lip. She wasn’t going to cry. They could have a camera on her right now, and she wasn’t going to cry. She did her best to close down her mind, but one thought slipped through, and that was all it took.
I wish Skulduggery were here.
Her face c
rumpled and tears came, and she lowered her head and cried.
When there were no more tears to fall, Valkyrie wiped her eyes. She was fairly certain she was alone in the cell. Anything that hadn’t been woken when she’d been thrown in would surely have stirred since then. So they’d been playing little games with her. She wasn’t food for anything. So what, then? Was she to be used as leverage against the Sanctuary? She doubted Grand Mage Thurid Guild would negotiate too much over her fate.
“Hello,” said a voice.
Valkyrie cursed in fright and pressed herself back into the corner, widening her eyes to try and distinguish shapes in the dark.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice assured her. It sounded like the voice of a young man. “Probably.”
“Who are you?” Valkyrie asked, her voice loud and harsh.
The voice was smooth and quiet. “I’m Caelan. This is my cell. You’re sitting in my favourite corner, you know. Switching corners every few days is the only thing that makes life bearable in this place. Keeps things fresh.”
She frowned. “Sorry.”
“It’s OK. You can have it.”
“What’s happening?”
“They haven’t told you? Usually, they tell people.”
“They just said I was going to be food.”
She could almost sense him nodding.
“So they have told you. But technically you wouldn’t be food. You’d be drink.”
Valkyrie went cold. “You’re a vampire.”
“Aha,” he said slowly. “You must be a sorcerer, then? Don’t suppose you could use your magic to get us out of here?”
She held her hands up in the dark. “These shackles are bound. I can’t use magic.”
“Ah. It was a nice idea while it lasted. What’s your name?”
“Valkyrie. Valkyrie Cain.”
“You say it like that name is supposed to mean something to me.”
“I work with Skulduggery Pleasant.”
“The Skeleton Detective,” Caelan said. “Now, him I have heard about. I heard he was gone, though. Sucked into another dimension or something equally stupid.”
