by Derek Landy
Pleasant darted in. Cadaverous went to bat him away, but the skeleton did something, some fancy move that Cadaverous had never seen before, and suddenly he was behind him and Cadaverous’s head was in his hands again and Pleasant wrenched it to the side.
But Cadaverous’s neck didn’t break, because Cadaverous was God here, and God’s neck doesn’t break.
He hit Pleasant with the back of his hand, little more than a lazy swipe, and Pleasant twisted and went stumbling.
“Isn’t it disheartening,” he asked as the skeleton straightened up again, “to be consistently denied the kill that you so richly deserve? Because I admit it – you deserved to kill me there. Both times. You came in, got past my defences, and went straight for the head. Straight for the kill. And yet, there you stand. Denied. I know how you feel. I know what that’s like. Time and again I have been denied what I deserve.”
Pleasant nodded, then suddenly pushed at the air, sending furniture crashing into the far wall. But not a single hair stirred on Cadaverous’s head.
Cadaverous hit him. Hit him again. Hit him a few times and then hit him a few times more. He wished the skeleton wasn’t a skeleton. He wished he was a flesh-and-blood man, so he could break the flesh and spill the blood. Another pleasure denied him.
Still, at least the skeleton felt pain. At least he felt each punch as it landed. At least he felt it when his bones cracked and fractured.
“I like your suits,” Cadaverous said, as Pleasant tried to crawl away. “Where do you get them?”
He picked Pleasant up and launched him through a door that splintered open on impact.
Pleasant went rolling. Groaned. “A friend of mine,” he muttered, “made them for me.”
“Do you think he would consider making one for me?”
“Sure,” Pleasant said, standing. “I’ll introduce you.”
He swung a punch that cracked against Cadaverous’s jaw, but inflicted no damage, and Cadaverous responded with another backhand that sent Pleasant sliding across the floor. His face melted from his skull, retreating under his collar.
Cadaverous smiled, and dragged the skeleton back into the living room. The little girl was trying to wake Abyssinia, but she looked up when Cadaverous called.
“Look at this,” he said, holding Pleasant up so that she could see him properly. “Look at Skulduggery. Look at what he really is, when he’s not wearing a mask.”
He expected her to scream, or to cry, or to do something. Instead, she just stared.
“That was anticlimactic,” Pleasant muttered, and Cadaverous let him collapse.
And then the moon began to chime.
73
“Midnight,” Cadaverous said, smiling again. “And Valkyrie Cain hasn’t come to save you. Are you disappointed in her? I thought she was made of sterner stuff.”
Pleasant waved a hand in his direction. “I have a retort,” he said from the floor. “And it’s a good one. Just wait there. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
“I am dreadfully sorry,” said Cadaverous, “but your time has run out. No more waiting for you. No more procrastinating.”
The little girl ran up to stand between them. “Stop hurting him,” she said. Her little hands were on her little hips. It was almost adorable.
Pleasant moaned. “You tell him, Alice.”
“Hurting people is wrong, and you shouldn’t do it.” The little girl wagged her finger. “You are being naughty.”
Cadaverous hunkered down, and peered at her. “You don’t feel any fear, do you? Not an ounce. Not one jot.”
“I’m brave,” the little girl said. “Like my sister.”
Cadaverous smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but your sister is not brave. If she were brave, she’d be here right now, fighting for you.”
Alice frowned, and looked back at Pleasant, who was on his feet and testing his jaw, probably to make sure it hadn’t fallen off. “Is he right?” she asked.
“No,” Pleasant said. “He’s just a cranky old man who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. If your sister isn’t here to fight for you, then I am. You’ll always have someone, Alice.”
Cadaverous straightened. “Oh, I apologise, are we not telling her that she’s about to die? It’s just, once she sees me kill you, the idea might occur to her anyway.”
Pleasant moved Alice behind him, and took out his gun. “I’ve got my second wind,” he said. “And I’ve been studying your moves. I know exactly how to beat you.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” said Pleasant, and threw his gun. It bounced off Cadaverous’s head.
Cadaverous laughed. So did Pleasant.
“I’m going to kill you now,” Cadaverous said.
Pleasant squared his shoulders. “I’d imagine so.”
And then Valkyrie Cain called Cadaverous’s name, from outside the house.
“Huh,” said Cadaverous, and walked to the front door. Pleasant followed, holding the little girl’s hand.
Valkyrie stood waiting in the moonlight, her clothes caked in dried mud. Most of the blood flow had stopped, which allowed Cadaverous to see the deep lacerations along her forehead. The skeleton’s car was parked beside her, and she was chewing on something – probably those foul-tasting leaves – in an effort to dull her pain. She held no weapons, and the bracelet on her arm was still secure, so she obviously hadn’t found whatever she’d been hunting for.
“You’re late,” Cadaverous said, “and, sadly, the offer I extended to you was time-sensitive. I’m afraid I can no longer allow your sister to live.”
Valkyrie shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about that, if I were you. I’m about to give you an ass-kicking like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Is that so? I’ll admit, such a proclamation would ordinarily have me positively quaking in my boots, but unless you found a God-Killer weapon hidden somewhere in the undergrowth, I sincerely doubt it.”
Valkyrie wiped a trickle of blood away from her eye. In the moonlight, the blood looked black. “I don’t need a God-Killer to stomp your head into the ground,” she said, and started walking.
Cadaverous watched her, oh so casual, oh so cool, as she disappeared round the side of the house. He reached back, took Alice by the arm. “Come along,” he said. “You, too, Detective. You wouldn’t want to leave Alice alone with me, would you?”
He walked after Valkyrie, not even feeling Alice as she tried in vain to struggle from his grip. They got to the side of the house and kept walking. Cadaverous was enjoying this. No matter how weak her hand would turn out to be, Valkyrie was acting as if she was leading him into a trap from which he would not escape. He was looking forward to watching the confidence slip from her face. He was looking forward to catching sight of the first flickers of fear. That was one of his favourite moments.
They came round the corner, and Cadaverous stopped, and frowned.
“I wasn’t looking for a weapon,” Valkyrie said, standing on the roof of a building that shouldn’t have been there, a building that was no taller than Valkyrie herself. “I was looking for a seed.”
It took him a moment to recognise the building. It was the Midnight Hotel, and it was growing slowly before them.
But … but no. They were in the Midnight Hotel. This didn’t make any sense. They were both in the Midnight Hotel and outside it at the same time.
Holding the chimney for balance, Valkyrie raised her foot and brought it down hard on the roof, and thunder shook the sky and made the moon tremble.
He should have leaped forward. Should have pulled her down and snapped her neck. But in his confusion he could only say, “Stop.” He could only say, “What are you doing?”
She brought her boot down again and, to the north, the sky over the mountains splintered –
– and a giant foot broke through.
74
Valkyrie gazed down through the hole in the roof, and saw the mountains below.
Then she looked up, saw them in the distance, a
cross the water, and saw her boot dangling above them like God’s own foot. She wiggled it, just to see it wiggle, then pulled her leg up and stamped down again. The crash, from both the roof below her and the world around her, was a thunderclap of monstrous collisions.
She reached down, grabbed a jagged collection of timbers. The roof, not even close to being fully formed, peeled away, leaving her with a gap just about big enough to drop through.
She caught Alice’s eye, winked, then stepped into the hole and let herself fall. She landed, bending her knees, in the middle of the mountains. They were uneven and she almost twisted an ankle, but she reached out, steadied herself by grasping the tallest snow-capped peak. She took a moment to orientate herself. The mountains came up to her shoulders. The dark sea was now no more than a small pond, and, beyond it, the island with Cadaverous’s house.
Valkyrie straightened, the top of her head brushing the sky, and stepped out into the sea. The water didn’t go higher than her calf.
She hurried to the island, kicking up a tsunami with every step. If the thought occurred to Cadaverous to climb on to the hotel and follow her down, it was all over. The only thing stopping that from happening was the sheer shock he was hopefully feeling, and his own lack of imagination.
She passed under the moon, paused, and moved the big hand almost all the way round.
Her head hit the moon and she scowled and continued on.
Any hope she had of ending this by just squishing Cadaverous beneath her boot vanished when she saw him walking towards her. He was growing with each step. If she was the size of a mountain, he was the size of a house, and then a church, and then a tower and then a skyscraper, and when he stepped off the island and into the sea he was as big as she was.
“Not nearly clever enough,” he said, and threw a punch.
Valkyrie saw it coming and stepped into it, absorbing it along her upper arm. It didn’t send her flying. It was a good punch, a strong punch, but it wasn’t strong enough to stagger her. She realised how tired Cadaverous now looked – as if the effort to grow to this size was taking all of his energy.
She snapped out a jab that rocked him, then grabbed his shoulder and lunged in with an elbow that sent him backwards. He fell, toppling, into the sea.
“This is embarrassing,” said Valkyrie, backing away a little.
“How dare you!” he screeched, splashing about as he got up. “How dare you!” Wiping blood from his nose, he stalked after her as she led him away from the island. “I am God here! This is my world! This is my creation!”
He dived at her and she rammed her forearm into the side of his neck. He gasped and she dragged him over her hip and flipped him. He hit the water, managed to break free, rolled away and stood, cursing her. He seemed smaller now. He was smaller. Not by much, but he had definitely lost some height.
She skipped in, kicked at his leg. He howled, staggered back. The more she hit him, the smaller he got. She grinned, liking this game.
He ran at her. She tried to flip him again, but she mistimed it and they both went down, splashing into the sea. Cadaverous snarled, going for her eyes. She gripped his wrists, turning him, wrapping him with her legs. He got a hand free and pulled her hair and she hissed, tried to break the hold. He scratched at her, shoved her off and scrambled on top. His hands at her throat, on her face, forcing her head underwater. Lungs burning, eyes shut, she wrapped him up with her legs again, crossing her ankles and extending her body. Squeezing him. That wasn’t working. His fingers were like iron.
She slammed a fist into the crook of his elbow and his arm bent and she surfaced, gasping for air. Yanking one of his arms across her body, she swung her right leg up on to his shoulder and then shifted her weight, hooking her left knee over her own right instep. Eyes bulging, he forced her back and she took a breath before submerging. She didn’t mind it this time. After a moment, he stopped trying to drown her and devoted his attention instead to getting himself out of the triangle choke.
He brought his feet in under him, struggling to stand. Valkyrie did her best to keep him on his knees, but he was too strong. He straightened, taking her up out of the water with him. He turned, staggered a few steps, Valkyrie still stuck to him like a limpet. She glanced over her shoulder, saw where he was bringing her. The bridge.
He fell forward. Valkyrie hit the bridge and smashed through it, and felt something give in her side. All sensation left her fingers and toes and darkness clutched at her vision. She waited until it started to recede, then shook her head and flexed her fingers. She could feel them again.
Cadaverous was on his feet, drawing in lungfuls of air. Valkyrie went to get up, but he snarled, and lashed in a kick, his shoe striking that broken rib. Exquisite pain lanced through her.
He tried another kick, but she brought her knee up, her boot absorbing some of the blow. Gritting her teeth against the pain in her side, she grabbed his leg and scrambled up. Cadaverous hopped angrily, trying to maintain his balance. Valkyrie backed off, taking him with her, then spun him, and he hopped and cursed and it would have been funny but for the broken rib and the bruises and the cuts and the fact that he was trying to kill her.
It was getting harder to control him. The smaller he got, the stronger he got. But Valkyrie was shrinking, too. While the interior dimensions of this new Midnight Hotel were all messed up due to Cadaverous’s magic, the fact was that the hotel was still growing, and every passing moment robbed her of any advantage she might still possess.
He tore his leg from her grip and they collided, stumbling out of the sea and on to dry land. They crushed houses, flattened trees, left footprints in roads. She headbutted him, was rewarded with a definite reduction in his size, but he punched her square in the chest and that blasted her backwards, into the city. Her hip scraped against an apartment building, her elbow smashed through a skyscraper, but she found something to grab on to to stop herself from falling.
She was still taller than the skyscraper she’d just damaged, but only just.
Breathing heavily, blood dripping from a gash across the bridge of his nose, Cadaverous followed her in, demolishing an overpass like he was kicking at weeds. The more she damaged him, the more he shrank, the more dangerous he became. This was not a winning strategy. Her only hope was that Skulduggery was at least taking advantage of the distraction to fly Alice back into the real world.
If that was actually possible. The moment she’d planted that seed, Cadaverous’s world and everyone inside it were immediately transported to the new hotel that had begun to grow within the old one. Valkyrie tried to figure out what that meant for the exit, but before she got too far down that train of thought, Cadaverous was attacking her again.
She ducked under him, but felt her ribs slide against each other and gasped, faltered, and he shoved her and she fell. Clutching at herself, Valkyrie tried to cry out but couldn’t. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cadaverous breaking a spire off the top of a tower. Holding it like a dagger, he jumped on to her. She brought her knees up and they crashed against his chest, but there was nothing she could do about the spire that was coming for her face except raise her left hand, and the spire went clean through.
Valkyrie found her voice, and screamed.
Spittle flying from his clenched grin, Cadaverous tugged the spire one way and then the other and Valkyrie’s screams reached new heights. She grabbed his wrist with her free hand, fought to get her feet between them, and then she pushed him back with her legs. He hit a building and went straight through, collapsing floors on top of himself, and Valkyrie got up, stumbled and ran, holding her left hand close to her body.
She kept low and darted right, followed a long street, turning slightly to stop her shoulders from hitting the buildings on either side. She went left, right again, glanced back to make sure Cadaverous couldn’t see her, and sank down with her back against something that looked like a bank. She watched tiny cars brake and tiny people, all with Cadaverous’s face, shout at her. She pulled her
feet out of the park opposite, pulled them close. Only then did she dare look at her hand.
The sight of it made her want to be sick. The spire, to her, was maybe the length of a pencil, but she was shrinking, which meant it was growing, which meant she couldn’t afford to let it stay where it was. She tried to take hold of it, but even touching it like that was too much and tears sprang to her eyes. She was dimly aware of all those little Cadaverous-people laughing at her.
She scooted forward, tore a tree from the park, then scooted back again, pressed her spine against the bank building. She put the tree between her teeth and clamped down. There was a crowd of the Cadaverous-people beside her, pointing up and jeering. She slammed her hand on top of them. The crowd squelched beneath her and the spire shot up and she did her very best to muffle her scream. She tasted bark and blood in her mouth, and whipped the spire from her hand and let it fall.
Blood poured from the puncture wounds. She spat out the tree and sat there, gasping, crying, trying not to make a sound. She wiped away the tears with her forearm, the park once again coming into blurry focus. Only then did she remember the tattoos on her eyes.
75
Cadaverous reached over the bank with both hands, grabbed her by the hair and hauled her up and dragged her back, spine arched across the roof of the bank. He landed a fist in her belly and she curled up, fell sideways off the bank roof, knees flattening cars and snapping lamp posts. Cadaverous took hold of her head in both his hands and picked her up, walked her backwards, grunting out curses and obscenities the entire time. He cracked the back of her skull off a building and stood over her as she collapsed.
When she was lying on the ground, he stepped on her head, grinding it into the street.
“How many times,” he asked, “do I have to beat you before it registers?”
Valkyrie wanted to throw him off, to jump to her feet, to knock that triumphant gleam out of his eyes, but she was way too tired and far too hurt. His shoe scraped against her cheek. His heel crushed her ear.
