by Derek Landy
Argeddion staggered back in shock. Darquesse’s grin grew wider.
“No,” said Argeddion as the ashes settled. “No. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. What have I done?”
If Darquesse were to ever have a chance of killing him, it was now, while he was too distraught to think straight. She stepped towards him.
Skulduggery’s fingers drummed against the Accelerator, faster and faster, chasing that rhythm, that irregular beat that he repeated, looped, again and again.
Incessantly.
Argeddion looked at him and Darquesse stopped her approach, caught out. Annoyed, she turned.
“I have to ask,” she said. “What are you doing? That tapping, that’s your big plan? How is that supposed to defeat the both of us?”
“You have the power of gods,” Skulduggery murmured, “but you’re not gods. Not yet. Your thoughts are human thoughts. Your minds may be expanding, but how you think is still a human process – for the moment, anyway.”
She noticed that there were sigils on the walls, but they were simple things, made to generate light but not energy.
Then the sigils started to pulse with the rhythm. And they got faster, starting pulsing on their own, faster and faster and brighter and brighter and Darquesse frowned, and laughed, and opened her mouth to speak and
alkyrie woke on the floor. She looked at the ceiling while she tried figuring out what the hell was going on.
There were voices. People. Ghastly stepped over her. “She’s awake,” she heard him say.
There were more people. The Sanctuary was no longer empty. The mages had returned. Skulduggery knelt by her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She looked at him a while before she spoke. “What did you do?”
“I had the lights orchestrated to interfere with the electrical activity in the human brain. Basically, I induced a seizure in both of you.”
“But … I’m not epileptic.”
“You don’t have to be. All that’s required is the right sequence at the right speed.”
He helped her up. Argeddion was sitting against the wall, eyes open but not looking at anything. Cassandra Pharos and two other Sensitives were kneeling around him. Someone else, too, a man she recognised. Deacon Maybury.
“You’ve been tapping that rhythm for days,” she whispered.
Skulduggery nodded. “I had to drive it into my subconscious so that Vile wouldn’t be able to resist using it. Ever since I thought we might require Darquesse, I knew I needed some way to stop her afterwards, something she wouldn’t expect.”
“She’ll be expecting it for next time,” said Valkyrie. “You won’t be able to get away with this twice.”
“Next time I’ll have figured out how to keep her away from you for good.”
“And if that doesn’t work, we always have the Cube.” She stood straighter, strength returning to her legs. “What are they doing to Argeddion?”
“Imprisoning him doesn’t solve the problem,” Skulduggery said, speaking louder now, “it just delays the inevitable. I wanted a solution. The only way I’ll be happy is if Argeddion is no longer a danger to anyone, and the only way that would happen is if Argeddion went away and never came back.”
“Is that what they’re doing? Planting an idea in his mind before he wakes up?”
“Not quite. Deacon owed us a favour and I decided to call it in. He’s helping Cassandra and the others to hide Argeddion. They’re building up walls around that personality, shutting him off from the rest of Walden D’Essai.”
“They’re rewriting his personality?”
“Hopefully not. Hopefully they’ll only rewrite his identity – they’ll keep his personality as intact as they can. He’ll be given a new name, a mortal name, and all memory of magic will be wiped.”
“Can they do that?”
“I don’t know. But working together, they stand a good chance.” He looked at her. “Are you feeling better yet?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“Good. There are some people we need to talk to.”
She followed him into the corridor, where Kitana stood with Doran and Sean, surrounded by Cleavers.
Sean was the first to see her. His eyes were red with tears. “I’m very sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry for all the horrible things I did. I’m sorry for all the people I hurt and the danger I put you all in.”
Valkyrie walked towards him.
“I don’t know what happened to me when I had the magic,” he continued, blubbing a little. “I don’t know why I did the things I did, or why I didn’t stop Kitana. But I followed her, because I’m weak and stupid and she was pretty.” Through his tears, he laughed. “Can you imagine that? I almost killed you because Kitana was pretty. How pathetic am I?”
Valkyrie murmured, waited until he was angled just right and then brought her hand up, caught him on the jaw. He crashed to the ground.
Kitana looked worried, but she covered it with a hesitant sneer. “So that’s it? You’re going to use your magic against us now that we have none?”
“I’m not using magic,” Valkyrie said. “But that’s my jacket you’re wearing, and I want it back.”
She walked to Doran next. Apart from the trembling, he didn’t move. He looked at her with scared eyes.
Her forehead crunched into his face and he flopped to the floor.
Kitana had gone quite pale. “Whatever,” she said with an attempt at another sneer. She took off the black jacket, threw it at Valkyrie’s feet. “Bet you’re so happy now, aren’t you? Now that I have to go back to living a normal life after the power I’ve had.”
Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “Normal? I’m sorry, Kitana, what exactly do you think is going to happen now? You think you’re going to go back to your old life? You’ve killed people. You’re going to spend the rest of your life in prison.”
Valkyrie hadn’t thought it would be possible for Kitana to go any paler. She was wrong.
“You can’t put me on trial,” Kitana said, her voice wavering. “I’ll tell everyone about you. Everyone will know.”
Valkyrie picked up her jacket, put it on. “Trials are for mortal problems. This isn’t a mortal problem, and you won’t go to a mortal prison.”
“You can’t do that,” said Kitana. “My parents—”
“Will be told you killed someone and you’re going to jail. We’ll keep the magic aspect out of it, we’ll give them enough information to keep them satisfied, and we’ll even arrange for visits. We have people who can make them believe whatever we want.”
“You … you can’t do this. No, I want a trial. A proper one. I need a lawyer, for God’s sake. It was the magic! The magic messed with my head! I can’t be held responsible for the things I did!” Kitana was crying now, hands over her mouth and shoulders shaking. “Please, Valkyrie, I didn’t know what I was doing. Argeddion got into my mind, he got into all our minds. Doran, Doran got it the worst. He was praying to Argeddion, did you know that? This whole thing was his idea. I’ll co-operate, I’ll do whatever you need me to do, but please, keep him away from me. He’s dangerous, Valkyrie. He’ll kill me if he knows I’m helping you.”
Valkyrie walked over to her. Since she had met her, all she’d wanted to do was punch her face in. But that was when Kitana had been big and powerful and brimming with murderous arrogance. The girl standing before her now, crying and blubbing like any teenage girl would in these circumstances, was not the same girl Valkyrie had wanted to punch.
But she’d do.
Valkyrie’s fist connected with such a satisfying jolt that it actually made her smile as Kitana fell sideways, eyes already rolling in her head. Valkyrie resisted the urge to kick her as she lay crumpled. Such behaviour was unbecoming of a Sanctuary detective.
Quintin Strom argued his way past the mages who were meant to hold him back, and walked up with Grim by his side. Ravel was standing with Skulduggery and Valkyrie, and he muttered under his breath when he saw him com
ing.
“Grand Mage,” he said when Strom reached them, “I want to thank you for your help today. Without you—”
“Without us it would have been a disaster,” Strom finished. “You’re lucky we were here.”
Ravel murmured.
“Mr Sult sustained a broken arm when the Tempest blew,” Strom continued. “He’s getting that seen to. The moment he’s able, he’s going to call Grand Mage Bisahalani and give him a full report on what transpired here.”
“I see.”
“You play a dangerous game, the lot of you. At any moment this could have slipped away and there would have been nothing you could do about it. It’s a miracle that didn’t happen.” He took a breath. “Even so, Erskine, I wish to apologise. What I said to you earlier was borne out of a bad temper. You may be young and inexperienced and your whole Sanctuary may be beleaguered, but you pulled through. You did it. You stopped Argeddion. So I’m going to have a chat with Mr Sult, and maybe we can find a way to reinterpret what transpired here.”
Ravel tilted his head, just like Skulduggery. “Reinterpret?”
“You were facing an impossible situation,” said Strom. “I’m not sure I would have done any differently if I were in your shoes.”
“So that whole thing about you being locked in a cell …”
“Was not appreciated,” Strom said, eyes narrowing. “And if you ever try anything like that again, I will tear you apart. But … yes, as for that whole incident, I can forgive it. And looking back, a few hours alone with my thoughts was probably good for me.”
“I have to say, that’s surprisingly generous of you.”
“I don’t want you to misunderstand me. Things are not OK. I have not been reassured that you can handle whatever happens next. I still think you need help, and you need guidance, and yes, maybe you need someone else in control. But … neither are things as bad as I feared. You govern well, you govern with your hearts as well as your heads, and you have good people by your side. All of this helps.”
“So what will be your recommendation to the rest of the Supreme Council?”
Strom rubbed his chin. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to convince Mr Sult to withhold some of the details. Make no mistake, Sult’s report, as it is, could very well result in the first stirrings of war. Even an abridged version of what happened might be enough to start us down that road, but I think I can persuade my colleagues to trust you – at least for now.”
“We appreciate that.”
“You’re going to need help, you know. Don’t let your pride stand in the way of a secure future for your Sanctuary.”
“Our pride isn’t at stake,” Ravel said. “Our autonomy is. Every Sanctuary in every country governs itself. That’s how it is, and that’s how it should be.”
Strom sighed. “This conversation is far from over. But at least we’ll be able to discuss it with a little civility from now on.”
Ravel raised an eyebrow. “Providing you convince Sult to see things your way.”
“Oh, I think I can manage that,” Strom said. “I can be quite charming when I want to be.”
He shook their hands and nodded to Grim, who gave them all a glare before following his boss back up the corridor. Ravel went to check on Argeddion and Skulduggery turned to Valkyrie.
“I can’t believe you abandoned me in the middle of a fight,” he said, keeping his voice down.
“I didn’t abandon you,” she pointed out. “Darquesse abandoned Lord Vile. And she didn’t even do it on purpose. I went dimension hopping again. Almost came back with the Sceptre, too, but it slipped out of my hand right before I shunted. Darquesse was not amused. But what are you complaining about, anyway? You survived.”
“Barely.”
“Barely surviving is still surviving. Where’s the armour?”
“Back in the case, hidden away. And Darquesse is back in your mind, I take it?”
Valkyrie shrugged. “They saved us. Both of them. Vile and Darquesse. The ultimate secret weapons. And don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying we should ever use them again. I’m just saying we needed them this time and it worked out for us.”
“And we never use them again.”
“Absolutely. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve needed to pee ever since you short-circuited my brain.”
She left him and headed for the nearest toilet. When she was finished, she emerged from the cubicle to find Elsie standing at the mirror.
Valkyrie hesitated, then went to the sink and washed her hands. “Hey,” she said.
Elsie took a moment. “I felt Sean die. I felt all of them die. But … but they came back. Now I can’t feel them any more. I can’t feel anything. I’m back to being me.”
Valkyrie turned off the tap, wiped her hands on her tattered T-shirt. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? For your magic to be gone?”
“Yes. I think. But I didn’t know how … lonely it would be.” Elsie turned to her. “While all this was going on I was too busy to think about, you know, what it would be like when it was over. But I’m going to go back to my old life and Sean is …”
“Going to prison.”
Elsie took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’ve followed him around since we were kids and he’s never even looked at me. Not really. I thought, I thought I loved him. I convinced myself that I loved him, and maybe I did, but Kitana and Doran would laugh at me and call me names and Sean never, he never stood up for me. How could I love someone like that? How could I love someone who so obviously didn’t care about me in the slightest? What does that say about me or what I think of myself? I deserve more than that – more than someone like him. He’s not as bad as the other two, really he’s not, but he thought Kitana was so perfect and so great and you know what? She’s a monster. And I’m not as skinny and I’m not as pretty but I’m a much better person than she is.”
Valkyrie looked at her. “Wow.”
Elsie gave a laugh. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologise. That was a good speech.”
“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?”
“Do you feel better now?”
“I do, a little.”
“We have Kitana in a cell downstairs, you know. Do you want me to hold her arms while you hit her?”
Elsie laughed. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I just want to go home now. Mr Scrutinous said my family won’t even have missed me, but I’ve missed them.”
Valkyrie grinned. “I’ll give you a call in a few days, see how you’re doing. Maybe offer you the opportunity again.”
Valkyrie took Elsie to someone who could drive her home, then went and found Skulduggery. While sorcerers hurried to and fro all around them, they took a slow stroll through the Sanctuary, enjoying the fact that they didn’t have to do anything.
“It can get quite tiring knowing you,” she said, walking with her eyes closed.
“Now, now,” he countered, “I hardly think I can be blamed for any of this. And has there been any lasting damage? Don’t you have your precious jacket back? Haven’t you used up all of that shunting energy that was reverberating around inside you?”
“That is so not the point.” She opened her eyes, looked down at herself, and immediately closed her jacket. “My God,” she said. “You’ve been letting me walk around with my T-shirt like this?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s literally in shreds.”
“I thought it was a fashion thing.”
“It’s barely there!”
“I didn’t say it was a wise fashion thing.”
She zipped up. They walked on. “Nadir’s still out there,” she said.
“That’s true.”
“A dimension-hopping serial killer is on the loose. That can’t be good.”
“We’ll find him,” Skulduggery said. “If not us, some other detective in some other Sanctuary. Maybe he’ll go and investigate the reality where he sent you. If we’re lucky, Mevolent will rip him apart for us.�
��
“And if we’re not lucky?”
He shrugged. “We’ll stop him.”
“You’re so sure?”
“Of course,” he said. “I have faith in us.”
They found Ghastly standing in the corridor – just standing there against the wall, with his head down.
“Hey,” Valkyrie said as they approached. “What’s wrong? We won today, or did you miss that bit?”
Ghastly didn’t look up. “Strom is dead,” he said. “He was in his chambers, collecting his things. When he didn’t come out, his bodyguard checked on him. One of the walls was cracked. That was Sanguine. But the sword that took Strom’s head, that was Tanith.”
Valkyrie went numb. “But … we were just talking to him …”
“Sult left as soon as he heard,” Ghastly continued, “took all of their mages with him. He’s probably on the phone to his boss right now. Strom never even got a chance to talk to him.”
Valkyrie’s stomach churned. She felt like she was going to throw up. “What do we do?” She looked at Skulduggery. “What do we do now?”
“We do what we always do,” Skulduggery said, buttoning his jacket and straightening his tie. “We prepare for what’s coming next.”
Sunday afternoon with the birds singing and the sun shining. The house belonging to Fergus and Beryl Edgley was empty, save for Carol and the reflection standing with her in her bedroom.
“Thank you for doing this,” Carol said. “I swear, I will practise every day until I’m as good as you are. And I won’t tell Crystal, not if you don’t want me to. I can keep a secret, like.”
“I know you can,” said the reflection.
“Can I call you Valkyrie?” Carol asked. “Just when we’re alone, like. I promise. I should probably come up with a name of my own, right? If I’m going to be training with you and everything?”
“Yes, you will,” said the reflection. “Although I’d actually prefer if you just call me Stephanie.”
“Oh,” said Carol. “Yeah, OK. Whatever you want. So how do we start? What’s in the bag? Can I see?”
“Not yet,” the reflection said. “The first thing you have to do is undress.”
