Skulduggery Pleasant: Midnight

by Derek Landy

“No,” she said.

  “Do you want me to, uh, read you a story or something?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any books?”

  “We keep half of my books in my bedroom – they’re for bedtime stories – and half in that bookshelf. They’re for daytime reading.”

  “Well, OK,” Omen said, wandering over to the bookcase and hunkering down. “What one do you want? Jack’s Amazing Shadow? Little Legends? Alice? Which book would you …?”

  Alice didn’t answer. She was staring out of the back window.

  “Alice? What are you doing?”

  She pointed. “There was a man there.”

  Omen straightened up. “Where?”

  “Outside the window,” she said. “He was looking in.”

  Fear’s cold fingers immediately started to tap their way down Omen’s spine. He went to the window. “What did he look like?”

  “He was old,” said Alice.

  “Have you seen him before?”

  She nodded, and he relaxed.

  “Oh, good,” he said. “Where have you seen him before?”

  She pointed behind her. “At that window over there.”

  The fear came back.

  It was probably nothing. It was probably a neighbour, or maybe someone had broken down and needed to call a tow truck, and they hadn’t heard that everyone had mobile phones these days so there was no reason to leave their car.

  He stepped into the hall and froze.

  The front door was open.

  Omen backed away. “Alice,” he said softly. “Alice, come here.”

  She wandered over and he took her hand and knelt down. “I want you to be very quiet,” he whispered. “Can you be very quiet for me?”

  She nodded earnestly.

  He took out his phone.

  “This is a surprise.”

  Omen cried out and whirled round.

  Cadaverous Gant stood by the stairs.

  “I was expecting parents,” Cadaverous said, “feeble mortal minds that I could command to deliver my message. Instead, I have the lesser of the Darkly brothers. I can’t command you, can I? But what do you do when life hands you lemons? You make lemonade.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “I don’t want you, little boy. I want her.” He smiled at Alice. “Hello there.”

  Omen pulled Alice behind him. “You’re making a mistake,” he said. “A huge mistake.”

  Cadaverous smiled. “You see, it’s that kind of thinking that meant this has never happened before. Until now, no one bothered to follow Valkyrie home. No one bothered to find out where she lived, who her parents were, if she had any cute and adorable siblings. At first, I fully expect it was because to strike at Valkyrie Cain would be to incur the wrath of Skulduggery Pleasant. But that changed, I think, and suddenly it was the wrath of Valkyrie herself that frightened people off.

  “But I’m not scared of Miss Cain, and I’m not scared of the skeleton. I’m not scared of anyone, now that I come to think about it. Not even Abyssinia – not any more.”

  “Why do you want her? She’s only a kid.”

  “There’s no need for you to worry about the whys and wherefores. I was going to use her parents to deliver the message, but I can just as easily use you. Your corpse will make it even more dramatic, I daresay.”

  Omen darted to the fireplace, grabbed the poker, held it before him in both hands. “Stay away.”

  “I’m not one for fisticuffs, little Darkly, but we both know that I’m strong enough and fast enough to whip that poker out of your hands before you can swing it. So, please, have a little dignity in your final moments.”

  “Alice,” said Omen, “when I tell you to, you run to the neighbours, OK?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Omen saw Alice nodding.

  “Run!” Omen yelled, and launched himself at Cadaverous.

  The old man batted the poker away and then slapped Omen so hard he spun and collapsed, his thoughts falling silent for a moment.

  Dimly aware of Cadaverous speaking, when he blinked and looked up again, Alice was walking calmly back into the room.

  “Good girl,” said Cadaverous. “Don’t be scared, Alice Edgley. Don’t panic. Don’t try to run.”

  Omen looked around for the poker, but couldn’t find it. He clicked his fingers, doing his best to summon a flame into his hand, but all he did was attract Cadaverous’s attention.

  “Did you ever think, little Darkly, that perhaps magic just isn’t for you?”

  Omen got to his feet. Cadaverous walked towards him, backing Omen into the corner.

  “You don’t have to kill me,” Omen said.

  “I’ll make it quick.”

  “You can tie me up or lock me away somewhere.”

  “Hush now,” Cadaverous told him, “and come here.”

  “Please don’t kill me.”

  Omen’s back hit the wall. Tears ran down his face. Cadaverous reached for him – and stopped.

  They stood there, frozen, while Cadaverous considered his options.

  “I’m not going to kill you,” he said suddenly. “I was going to kill you. I still might. But I probably won’t. It might be more fun for Cain to come back and listen to your pathetic excuses.” He held out his hand. “Phone.”

  Omen wiped his eyes. “Sorry?”

  “Your phone, boy,” Cadaverous said. “Give it to me.”

  Omen passed it over. Cadaverous dropped it and slammed his heel into it three times. Then he took another phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Omen.

  “There is one number in that phone,” he said. “When Cain gets back, tell her to call it. When is she due home?”

  “Uh, half an hour, maybe.”

  “Perfect. You are to wait here. You are not to call anyone or alert anyone. You are not to step outside that door. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes.”

  “If the skeleton comes in with her, make an excuse. Do not let Skulduggery Pleasant know what is going on. Alice’s life will depend on it.”

  “OK. I promise.”

  “Sit on the couch there, like a good little boy. Sit and wait.”

  Then he was gone, and Alice was gone with him.

  39

  Like shadows, they drifted through the Dark Cathedral.

  Or at least, Tanith did. She was magnificent to watch. She became the darkness, melted into it. She walked along walls and ceilings. She vanished when she had to.

  Sebastian was less like a shadow, more like someone wearing a leather suit that creaked when he moved, with an awkward mask that curtailed a good deal of his peripheral vision. He also didn’t quite melt into the darkness so much as lunge desperately. But he managed not to be seen, which was the main thing.

  Tanith had another advantage over him – she knew where she was going, and led him straight to the display area. Set out in a large room like a museum, there were all manner of exhibits and books and stuff he didn’t care about – and in the middle of it all was the scythe, turning slowly within a glass case and held aloft by the small sigils carved into the base. Sebastian reached for it, and Tanith smacked her staff against his hand.

  “What is wrong with you?” she asked. “Are you actually trying to get us caught?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s rigged to an alarm?”

  “Yes, Sebastian, I do.”

  “Um … would you know how to dismantle it?”

  She looked at him like he was an idiot. “Why did you come here, why are you doing this, if you’re not prepared for exactly this sort of thing? Are you always this ill-equipped?”

  “Not always,” Sebastian said.

  Tanith sighed, and passed her hand over the lock. It clicked open.

  “Cool,” Sebastian said, and once again Tanith hit him with the staff.

  “Ow,” he said.

  “I’ve unlocked it,” she told him, “but the alarm is still active.”

  “Oh.”

  “
You know, I’m not entirely convinced that you’re cut out for this line of work,” she said. “You are, and I have refrained from using these words until right this second, incredibly incompetent.”

  “Bit harsh.”

  “Not really. I know you think you have a mission, but I sincerely believe that you’d be better leaving it to someone else.”

  Beneath his mask, Sebastian smiled. “I wish I could, Tanith. I really do. But no one else can see what’s going on, and no one else understands what has to be done.”

  “Then you should really just think about quitting, because you’re going to get yourself killed.”

  “Maybe. But I have to try.”

  “What are you after, Sebastian? Why are you doing this?”

  “The world needs help.”

  “Surely there are more qualified people to provide that help.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” He examined the glass case. “Do you think we could cut the wires or something?”

  “The alarm isn’t electronic,” Tanith said. “See that sigil, in the corner? The little one? The moment the scythe is touched, that little sigil will start screaming like nothing you’ve ever heard.”

  “Can you disable it?”

  “I don’t know a whole lot about sigils.”

  “Pity China Sorrows isn’t here.”

  “That would be incredibly handy,” Tanith murmured. “Your only chance, as far as I can see, is to grab it and run as fast as you can.”

  Sebastian peered at her. “That’s it? Your advice is to grab it and run?”

  “As fast as you can, because the Cathedral Guards will be right on your heels. You have a way out?”

  Sebastian nodded.

  “Then I’d do some warm-up exercises and get ready to sprint.”

  “Huh,” he said. “This heist plan is not as intricate as I’d been hoping.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to provide a distraction,” Tanith said. “I probably won’t be able to get to my target without witnesses, so, when I strike, the alarm will be raised. That’s your cue.”

  “And do you have a way out?”

  “Of course.”

  “So, what, I wait here until the assassination?”

  “Unless you want to help me kill someone.”

  “Not really.”

  “No offence, but I wouldn’t have accepted your help even if you’d offered it. Find somewhere to hide, Sebastian. You’ll know when my target is dead.” She started to walk away.

  “Hey, Tanith? Thank you.”

  She turned, looked back. “I don’t know what your mission is, but I hope it works out for you.”

  “Same here. I mean, y’know, good luck killing the person. I’m sure they deserve it.”

  “If anyone deserves it,” said Tanith, “it’s China Sorrows.”

  40

  Valkyrie pulled up outside her parents’ home, struggling to wrench her mind away from thoughts of Abyssinia and Caisson and all this history that was suddenly starting to infect the present. So many secrets. So many hidden lives. She was no stranger to that, of course, but she had to keep it separate, had to keep it away from Alice.

  Valkyrie tried smiling. Tried again. On the third attempt, it took.

  She got out, entered the house.

  “Hey,” she called. The house was quiet. Omen sat alone in the living room. “Thanks for this,” she said, walking in. “Seriously. Was she any trouble?”

  Omen stood. It was pretty clear he’d been crying.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Then she looked around. “Where’s Alice?”

  “He took her,” Omen said.

  Valkyrie took a step forward. “What?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Cadaverous Gant.”

  She was on him before he’d finished speaking, her hands curling into his shirt, forcing him back, pinning him to the wall. “What?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Omen said, crying again. “He was going to kill me. He said I’ve to give you this.”

  He had a phone in his hand. She released him, grabbed the phone. The screen lit up. There was one number, ready to be dialled. She hit the button and waited.

  “Hello, Valkyrie,” said Cadaverous.

  “Bring her back,” Valkyrie said, walking away from Omen. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt her, and bring her back.”

  “You’ll be wanting to shut up now,” Cadaverous said. “I hear one word from you that isn’t an answer to a question, and I’ll end this right now by killing her. Is that understood, you arrogant brat?”

  She stiffened. “Yes.”

  “For the duration of this phone call you will refer to me as sir. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s much better. As you have probably guessed, I took your sister in order to lead you into a trap.”

  “You don’t have to lead me anywhere. I will willingly go wherever—”

  “I didn’t ask a question.”

  Valkyrie froze. “Sorry,” she said.

  “Sorry what?”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “OK,” Cadaverous said. “That’s your first and only warning. You do that again and I’ll kill her and throw her body in a ditch. We’re going to play a little game, Valkyrie. Do you like games? I hope you do. This is a fun game. I call it Let’s Save Alice. The objective is simple. You’ve got to find her before midnight. That’s it. The rules are: you have to do this alone. Omen didn’t factor into my plans, but let’s face it – even if you take him with you, you’re still basically alone. So, when this call ends, you leave your own phone where it is, you leave those little shock sticks of yours behind, you don’t tell anyone – especially not the skeleton – and you and the Darkly boy get in your car and you drive. Are you with me so far?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I’m not going to tell you where your sister is – that’s for you to figure out. Your first stop will be to see a man called Palter. He’s waiting at The Iron Bar, in Roarhaven. He’ll let you know what you have to do once you get there. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “If I find out that you are cheating, or if you fail to retrieve her by midnight, your sister dies. What time is it, brat?”

  Valkyrie checked her watch. “It’s almost six, sir.”

  “Then you have just over six hours. We’ll be waiting.”

  He hung up. She stared at the phone.

  “I’m so sorry,” Omen said.

  Valkyrie turned. She’d forgotten he was there. “Did he say anything? Anything about where he was taking her or what he was going to do? Anything at all?”

  “No,” Omen said. “He just told me not to call anyone. He said Alice’s life depends on it.”

  “Yeah, I got that part.”

  “I’m so sorry. I let him take her. I didn’t even fight him.”

  “He would have killed you.” Valkyrie pulled her keys from her pocket. “OK, come on.”

  She stalked out of the house. He followed.

  “I’m coming with you?”

  “You’re part of this now,” she said. “Close the front door, then get in.”

  She got in. Started the engine. Her hands gripped the wheel. Her heart was cold and pounding. She wasn’t sure if she was thinking clearly.

  Omen got in beside her. She pulled out on to the road as he was buckling his belt.

  “Was she scared?” Valkyrie asked.

  “I don’t think she knew what was going on,” Omen said. “He was controlling her, telling her not to be afraid and to keep calm.”

  She nodded. That was good. The idea of her sister being out there, alone and terrified, would have been too much for her to take right now.

  41

  He followed Tanith at a distance, trying to figure out the best way to go about what he had to do. His mind, never the best place to go for ideas, remained stubbornly blank.

  He watched Tanith crouch by a balcony. Making sure he wasn’
t seen, Sebastian scurried to the nearest curve of the same balcony and looked over. Walking below and deep in conversation was the Arch-Canon, Damocles Creed. Beside him was China Sorrows.

  Sebastian started to creep round the curve.

  When he came to the broadest part, he could see Tanith again, her back to him. She was focused on Creed and China, preparing to vault over the balcony.

  He didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to do this.

  He charged.

  Tanith heard him and turned, saw him coming, made a face, gestured for him to go away.

  He stopped charging because it was stupid, and instead walked up to her. She straightened, and moved away from the balcony.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she whispered.

  “I … I’m sorry, Tanith,” he answered, speaking softly. “I can’t let you kill her.”

  Tanith observed him coolly.

  “I understand that you have your reasons,” he continued. “I get that, I do. But I need China to stay alive. I can’t … I can’t have the disruption that her death would bring. Do you see? For my plan to work out how I need it to, she has to stay alive. I’m so sorry.”

  “You think you’re going to stop me?” Tanith asked.

  “I’m hoping you’ll just … walk away.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  He swallowed. “Then I’ll have to do my best to stop you.”

  Tanith stepped closer. “Do you have any idea what she’s done? Any idea, at all, about the people she’s had killed? She was bad enough before she crowned herself Supreme Mage, but now that she has actual power? She’s a monster, Sebastian – and you want to save her?”

  “I can’t let you kill her.”

  Tanith sighed, and shook her head. “Fine,” she said, laying her staff on the ground. “Stop me.”

  Sebastian winced. “I am really, really sorry about this.”

  “Whatever.”

  He feinted low and went high and she hit him, square in the solar plexus. His suit did a decent job of absorbing the punch, but it still forced some of the wind from his lungs.

  He lunged and she caught his wrist, twisted his arm, led him one way and then flipped him on to his back.

  He got to his knees and grabbed for her leg, but she moved sideways and kicked him and he went tumbling.