by Derek Landy
Flanery smiled back. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think I’ve got everything under control. Don’t you?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” Wilkes said, and laughed. “If anyone does, you do. Goodnight, sir.”
Flanery nodded, and waited for Wilkes to almost reach the door before he asked, “Did you call Abyssinia, by the way?”
Wilkes hesitated, then turned. “She’s proving elusive, sir.”
“Elusive, huh?”
“I’ll try again in the morning.”
Flanery leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands over his stomach. “What do you think of my idea, to move up the operation? Be honest now.”
Wilkes chewed his lip for a second, then stepped further into the room. “I thought it was good, sir. You’re absolutely correct: you need the country to get behind you. My only concern is that this operation needs to be pulled off perfectly the first time. We’re really not going to get a second chance.”
“I agree,” said Flanery.
Wilkes blinked. “You do?”
“Of course. I listen to you, Wilkes, even when you don’t think I do. You’ve been with me from the start. You helped get me elected.”
“Thank you, sir, but I reckon that was all you.”
“I just told the people what they’d been waiting to hear,” Flanery said. “All they needed was someone who understood them. And I do understand them. I know what they want. I know what they love and what they fear. They’re my people, Wilkes. All of them.”
“Yes, sir, Mr President,” Wilkes said, and gave a nod and a smile before turning to leave.
“Are you going to call her?” Flanery asked.
“Sir?”
“Abyssinia. Are you going to call Abyssinia?”
“Oh,” said Wilkes. “You, uh, you still want me to tell her to move up the operation?”
“No, no,” Flanery said, waving his hand. “We’ve just decided that we can’t afford to rush that, haven’t we? No, I was wondering if you’re going to call her to brief her on what I’ve been up to.”
“I’m not sure I understand …”
“You don’t?” Flanery said, raising his eyebrows. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but … you are her spy, aren’t you?”
Wilkes laughed. “Uh, I’m no spy, Mr President.”
“No? I was misinformed?”
“You must have been, sir,” Wilkes said, having a good chuckle. “Goodnight now.”
“That’s so weird,” said Flanery. “So your sorcerer name isn’t Vox Askance?”
Wilkes froze.
“I know all about you,” Flanery continued. “I’ve known for weeks. I didn’t believe it at first. I said Wilkes is too spineless to be a spy. Weak-Willed Wilkes, I called you. But then I was shown proof.”
Wilkes turned slowly.
“You betrayed me,” Flanery said. “You lied to me and betrayed me. You’re one of them. You’re a filthy, degenerate weirdo.”
Wilkes was standing differently. His back was straighter, his shoulders no longer stooped. “Who told you?”
“You betrayed me!” Flanery screamed, jumping to his feet.
“You know what?” Wilkes said. “I’m glad you know. I’m delighted. Do you have any idea how hard it has been, these last few years, to even be around you? You are detestable. You are ignorance personified. I’ve been around some nasty people, I’ve been around murderers, but you? You are by far the worst. And that’s saying something.”
Flanery sneered. “You think you’re—”
“Shut up,” said Wilkes, and snapped out his hand. A gust of wind hit Flanery so hard it toppled him backwards over his chair, and he went sprawling on to the carpet.
“You were shown proof, were you?” Wilkes said, walking up to the desk. “Was it with pictures? Because it sure as hell wasn’t a written document. God forbid you ever have to read something.”
Flanery scrambled up. “Get – get away from me.”
“You’re an insufferable little man, you know that? I deserve a medal for what I’ve had to put up with. Abyssinia should make me a general for not snapping your neck every time you blatantly lied about something you knew I knew. Abyssinia’s plan? It wasn’t your idea, you moron. It was hers. I was there when Parthenios Lilt explained it to you. And then you try to take credit for it? What is wrong with you?”
Flanery lunged for the button on his desk, but Wilkes grabbed his wrist and twisted. Flanery cried out. He tried to hit Wilkes, but he’d never thrown a punch before and it bounced off Wilkes’s shoulder.
Wilkes laughed. “Everything about you is soft,” he said, forcing Flanery backwards until he was pressed against the wall. “Your arms are soft, your belly’s soft, your hands … dear God, your hands have never done a moment’s hard work, have they? Not a single moment.”
“Help,” Flanery whispered. “Help me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Mr President. I’m not going to kill you. Abyssinia wouldn’t want that. She needs you for the plan to work. Her plan. We can still work together, can’t we? Sure, there’ll have to be some changes. You’ll be treating me a lot better, for one thing. Hell, you’ll be treating everyone a lot better. In fact, I reckon you’re going to turn over a whole new leaf, Mr President. What do you think about that?”
Flanery licked his lips. “Help me.”
Wilkes leaned in. “Has that fragile mind of yours finally snapped? I’m not going to help you. I’m the one threatening you.”
“I think he was talking to me,” said the tall man in the checked suit behind him.
Wilkes turned and Crepuscular Vies hit him in the throat.
Gasping, gagging, Wilkes stumbled to the desk and slid along it. Crepuscular followed, walking slowly. Flanery had never seen him in the light before. He didn’t have any lips. His gums simply merged with the skin that was stretched too tight round his head. His cheekbones and eye sockets were pronounced, and the eyes themselves bulged like they were going to pop out at any second.
Flanery stared, his fascination mixing with revulsion, and watched as Crepuscular reached out, pulled Wilkes towards him, and broke his neck.
Wilkes fell.
“You … you killed him,” Flanery whispered.
“Did I?” said Crepuscular, and glanced down. “Oh, so I did.” He moved round to Flanery’s chair, laid his pork-pie hat on the desk, and sat. “Look at me,” he said. “I’m the President.”
His black hair was parted in the middle, like they used to do in the 1920s. He leaned back, put his feet up. His socks were brightly coloured, and matched his bow tie.
Flanery’s trembling legs took him to the middle of the room, and he turned in a circle, panic rising within him. “What are we going to do? What are we going to do?”
Crepuscular raised an eyebrow. “About what?”
“About Wilkes!”
“Don’t worry about Wilkes,” said Crepuscular. “We’ll tell Abyssinia he disappeared, and we’ll keep going along with her little plan for as long as it’s in our best interests.”
“I meant the body! I meant the dead body!”
“Oooooh. Well, leave that with me, Martin. I’m your go-to guy now. If I can’t get rid of a corpse from the Oval Office, what use am I?”
“You didn’t …”
“What’s that? Sorry?”
“You didn’t tell me you were going to kill him.”
Crepuscular fixed him with a stare from those hideous eyes. “You’re not my president, Martin. I didn’t vote for you. I’m not even American. So I don’t have to tell you anything. I didn’t have to tell you that Wilkes here was a spy for Abyssinia, but I chose to, because we’re in this together. I didn’t have to tell you that the secret magical government of the world has been subtly influencing you and your people … but I chose to. Why?”
“Because we’re … we’re in this together?”
Crepuscular tapped a finger against an invisible gong. “Exactly. And, now that it’s official, I’m going to be introducing you to
a lot of interesting people who can do a lot of interesting things for you.”
“More people like you?”
“Heh. There’s no one else quite like me, buddy boy. But I’ll be introducing you to friends of mine. Sorcerers and the like. In particular, there’s a doctor I want you to meet, a thing called Nye. It has a proposal for us that just makes me giddy with joy.”
Crepuscular was sitting behind that Oval Office desk like he was born to it. Now that the shock was wearing off, that little fact was starting to worm its way down the back of Flanery’s spine.
“What’s in it for you?” he asked, feeling the old bravado returning.
“Me?” said Crepuscular.
He put one hand on the desk and vaulted over it, plucking up his hat with the same hand and placing it on his head as he loomed over Flanery. “I’ve got scores to settle, buddy boy. I’ve waited hundreds of years for this, and my time is finally here. I’ve got a list of things I want to destroy and a list of people I want to kill, and you’re going to help me do it.”
Flanery swallowed. “OK.”
Crepuscular put an arm round Flanery’s shoulders. “This is the start of something special, Martin. Can you feel it? I can feel it. Together, we’re going to smash everything good in his life and kill every last thing he loves, and I’ll stand over him, right at the end, and I’ll say, ‘See? I beat you. I won.’”
“St-stand over who?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry, buddy boy,” Crepuscular said, and laughed. “His name’s Skulduggery Pleasant. I’m going to kill Skulduggery Pleasant.”
The Skulduggery Pleasant series
SKULDUGGERY PLEASANT
PLAYING WITH FIRE
THE FACELESS ONES
DARK DAYS
MORTAL COIL
DEATH BRINGER
KINGDOM OF THE WICKED
LAST STAND OF DEAD MEN
THE DYING OF THE LIGHT
RESURRECTION
MIDNIGHT
THE MALEFICENT SEVEN
ARMAGEDDON OUTTA HERE
(a Skulduggery Pleasant short-story collection)
The Demon Road trilogy
DEMON ROAD
DESOLATION
AMERICAN MONSTERS
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