Skulduggery Pleasant: Last Stand of Dead Men

by Derek Landy

  A man came forward, small and slim with close-cropped hair, and joined Ravel on the podium.

  “I know him,” Scapegrace whispered. “We beat him up. We thought he was Silas Nadir.”

  Creyfon Signate raised his arms and lowered his head. Stephanie frowned.

  The town began to flicker with new buildings superimposing over the old.

  “The citizens of Roarhaven had a dream,” said Ravel, “to rise beyond the limitations set on them. They dreamed of a town strong enough to withstand any assault and big enough to house any number. They dreamed until their town was a town no longer. Sorcerers, friends, brothers and sisters, I present to you Roarhaven City!”

  Signate gave a cry of effort and the flickering buildings became solid. Towers and steeples raced each other skywards, overshooting the residential blocks, apartments and houses and homes. The roads were broad and intricately layered, and the old Main Street was now little more than an alleyway. The old buildings were still there, but above and around them there were all manner of improvements and modifications.

  When his speech had begun, Ravel had been standing in front of a squat, unimpressive Sanctuary building. It was now nothing less than a palace, and it stood shimmering in the sun. Smaller than Mevolent’s palace had been, perhaps, but just as luxurious, and it seemed to be occupying the exact centre of this new city like a vibrant, beating heart. Even the stagnant lake was different. Swirling bridges criss-crossed its sparkling surface, and on those bridges people cheered. People cheered in the streets, too. Thousands of them. Men and women and children, who hadn’t been there moments earlier.

  And around the outskirts, a wall, complete with watchtowers and buttresses.

  “This isn’t a city,” said Vex softly. “It’s a fortress.”

  At Skulduggery’s command they moved backwards cautiously, keeping their faces hidden from the thousands who now surrounded them on all sides.

  he relief was a tangible thing, heavy in the air, like a low-lying heat that wouldn’t go away. Those who had fought under Mantis’s command, sorcerers from all over the world who had never wanted to go to war in the first place, laughed and sang with the people of Roarhaven and the mages they had been trying to kill just days earlier.

  Grievances were forgotten. Grudges were dismissed. No one, it appeared, bore any animosity towards anyone else.

  No one except China.

  In one of the vast and empty rooms of this strange new Sanctuary, she sat and watched Vincent Foe walk in, followed by his gang of mercenaries. They had been drinking and carousing with the best of them, but now their fun was over.

  “You sent for us,” said Foe.

  “I did,” said China.

  They stood in front of her, and Foe tried a smile. “Listen, Miss Sorrows, we were hired to do a job. You can’t take this stuff personally.”

  “I happen to take being hunted down very personally.”

  “We’re the bullet. We’re not the finger that pulled the trigger. The Supreme Council—”

  “I know who pulled the trigger, Mr Foe. And it’s not even who you think. There were systems in place behind this war. Strings being pulled. I know exactly who ordered my death.”

  “Then that’s who you should be angry with.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “How could I be angry? It’s what I would have done in their place. You see, to the finger that pulled the trigger, ordering my death was a purely business decision. But you and your friends took to it with relish. Too much relish, if I’m being honest.”

  “We were hired—”

  “Step forward, please.”

  Foe frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “There are five circles drawn on the floor in front of you. Each of you pick a circle and step into it.”

  “We’re not going to—”

  “Mr Foe, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I am a personal guest of Grand Mage Ravel’s, and that he has instructed you to do whatever I ask.”

  Foe’s merry band of mercenaries glanced at each other uneasily. Except for Samuel. Samuel just kept his eyes on China. Even as they all stepped into the circles, his eyes never left her.

  “Thank you,” China said, as she stood up and tapped the sigil on her elbow.

  The circles lit up and their bodies went rigid, eyes bulging, fingers curled as pain seized control.

  “I could kill you all with another tap of my finger,” China said, walking between them. “You dare to hunt me? You dare to make an attempt on my life? Do you even know who I am? Do you know the things I have done? I’m sure I cannot even begin to comprehend the audacity with which you thought that my life would be quashed by the likes of you. In all your years on this planet not one of you has done anything to deserve the right to kill me. Not you, Mr Foe, and not one of your pathetic, mewling little band of killers.”

  Her finger hovered by her elbow. One twitch would be all it took, and the pain would rise so suddenly their hearts would burst. Instead, she flattened her hand and brushed it over her elbow, and the circles stopped glowing and the mercenaries dropped, gasping, to their knees.

  “I’m not in the habit of being merciful,” she said to them, “but you have your uses, as clumsy and thick-fingered as they may be. Mr Foe, please look at me when I’m talking to you.”

  Foe raised his head. Sweat poured down his face. Immediately China felt the need to shower.

  “For the indignity I have suffered at your hands, you owe me. When I come to collect my favour, you will obey without question. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Y-yes,” Foe said.

  “You work for me now. Remember that. Leave me now, I have another appointment to keep.”

  They dragged themselves away, and China allowed herself a moment of pleasure before shaking it off. She headed for the busier sections of the Sanctuary, where mages walked and talked quickly. A pair of Cleavers let her through to the Round Room. Ravel and Mist sat in their chairs, the Black Cleaver standing behind Ravel while the Children of the Spider stood around them. Ghastly’s chair was, of course, empty.

  “China,” said Ravel, “thank you for joining us. I apologise for taking you from your work, but I think there’s something you can help us with. You may have heard talk of some missing mages?”

  She inclined her head in a nod. “I’ve heard the gossip. Four mages have failed to turn up for their Sanctuary duties. Their houses are empty. Their friends don’t know where they are.”

  “We know where they are,” said Ravel. “We’ve been keeping it quiet so as not to spread panic. They’re dead. And it’s been more than four. Eight dead, in the last week. All of them killed in the line of duty. Another eleven gone missing. Taken. Two of them were the mages sent to keep an eye on you.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Isn’t it? I suspect that while the war between Sanctuaries is over, there is another war being fought within these city walls.”

  China could feel Mist’s gaze on her, despite the veil that covered her face. The Terror and the Scourge were looking at her calmly. Only Syc and Portia had open hostility in their eyes. She didn’t know how much they knew, but she knew how much they suspected. A lie here could land her in shackles, or worse.

  China gave them all a smile. “The Dead Men,” she said.

  “Or what’s left of them,” said Ravel. “This was more our style than leading an army across a battlefield, after all. Drop behind enemy lines, take the opposition out one by one, whittle down their numbers.”

  “Strike from the shadows,” China said. “Disappear into darkness.”

  “That’s our motto, and that’s our system. And now it’s being used against me. I never realised how annoying it could be. Of course, the system is a lot more effective when you have a Teleporter on your team. I’m assuming they have Fletcher back?”

  “You’re assuming I know?”

  “Of course you know,” Portia said. “You’re Skulduggery Pleasant’s friend. You have a history.”

&nbs
p; China locked eyes with her. “The same could be said for Erskine, and look how that turned out.”

  “Ladies,” Ravel said, “we’re not here to throw accusations around. We’re not playing the blame game. You’re standing in a circle of trust, China. We’re all on the same side. Isn’t that true?”

  China thought about her answer before voicing it. “Somewhat.”

  Ravel laughed. “That’s why I like you, China. You’re so hard to trap in a lie. When was the last time you spoke with Skulduggery?”

  Erskine Ravel and the Children of the Spider in front of her. The Black Cleaver behind. The truth, then.

  “Six days ago,” China said. “The day you unveiled your city, actually.”

  “Execute her!” Syc growled, stepping forward. A slight turn of the head from Madame Mist, though, and he glowered and stepped back.

  “Were they here for the speech?” Ravel asked. “I hope they liked it. Not nearly enough people have come up and congratulated me on that speech. It took me ages to get it right. Skulduggery, now, Skulduggery would have appreciated it.”

  “I wouldn’t know what he thought,” said China. “I haven’t spoken to him, or any of them, since.”

  “Oh. That’s a shame. Well, since we’re on the subject, what did you speak to them about?”

  “They asked about your plans. I answered honestly. I don’t know anything about your plans. They asked when you would likely be alone. I said you’re never alone, you always have bodyguards around you.”

  “Such is the world we live in,” Ravel said, shaking his head sadly. “Were you of any use to them at all?”

  “I don’t see how I could have been.”

  “Mm. Well, apart from not reporting it to me immediately. I mean, you aided them in that sense.”

  “I suppose you could look at it like that.”

  Mist spoke. “And now, Miss Sorrows, where do your loyalties lie?”

  China looked at her. “Where they have always lain, Madame Mist. With me.”

  A spider scurried out of Mist’s voluminous sleeve and across her pale, slender hand, before disappearing from sight.

  “I’m going to be frank here,” said Ravel. “It’s not looking good for you, China. You come to the Sanctuary for, well, sanctuary, and we take you in. You have work you need to do? We give you the tools. Your little spies aren’t speaking to you any more? We put you in a position so that they do. We’ve done so much and asked so little. And the first chance you get, you fail us by aiding the enemy.”

  “If I hadn’t, they might have killed me. It wouldn’t take much to convince Skulduggery that I had betrayed him yet again.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Ravel. “You did get his wife and child murdered, after all. Something I’ve always wondered about, actually. Why did you do it? I mean, I know it was to lure Skulduggery into the trap so that Serpine could kill him, but you could have sent anyone to snatch them up. You could have sent the Diablerie. Instead, you went. Alone. You went up against his wife. Alone. For someone who never exposes herself to any unnecessary danger, that’s quite a risk you took.”

  “I was young. Impetuous.”

  “In love?”

  “What an odd notion.”

  “Is it? We had plenty of theories throughout the years, but we always returned to that one. Back when he was alive, before the war started, you were in love with Skulduggery. And he was in love with you.”

  “Ridiculous. I barely knew him back then.”

  “That’s what Dexter said, but then we remembered that your brother had tried to take you with him when he stopped worshipping the Faceless Ones. You spent months with people who weren’t lunatics – and one of these people was Skulduggery.”

  “It doesn’t say much for our supposed love if I returned to my old ways soon after, does it?”

  Ravel gave a smile. “You returned to your old ways after Skulduggery met his future wife. Ghastly’s opinion was that you were spurned.”

  “Ghastly Bespoke’s opinions were not always right. It was his opinion, for example, that he could stand with his back to you and you wouldn’t stick a knife in it. How wrong he was.”

  Ravel’s smile slipped. “I’m not going to try to justify my actions. I killed Ghastly. There’s a special hell for traitors, and that’s where I’m going. But he had to die. As did Anton. I had to send a message to my supporters. They needed to see that I was as committed to this revolution as they were. Just as they had to spill the blood of their Elders and fellow mages, I had to spill the blood of my brothers. Now we’re all damned together.”

  “And if you manage to capture Skulduggery and the others?” China asked. “Will they also have to die?”

  Ravel shook his head. “It’ll be shackles and a cell for them. You know me well enough to know that killing is, and always will be, a last resort. I may have done this terrible thing, but I haven’t changed who I am. I’m not some moustache-twirling vaudeville villain. I’m still me.”

  “And who are you? You say I know you well enough? I don’t know you at all. You used to be such a proud exponent of Corrival Deuce’s teachings. Where did it all go so wrong?”

  Ravel shook his head sadly. “My eyes were opened long before I started regurgitating Corrival’s words. During the war with Mevolent, I was captured. Tortured. After a few days, I told them everything I knew, but they didn’t stop torturing me. They finally had one of the Dead Men in their grasp, and they were enjoying every single scream. Then one day I heard screams that weren’t my own, and I thought they’re here. My friends are here. But when the door burst open, it wasn’t Skulduggery or Ghastly standing there. It was the Torment. Larrikin took my place in the Dead Men while I recovered, and I spent almost a year with the Children of the Spider. Do you know of the conditions in which they were forced to live? Squalor. And not because of the war, but because of the mortals. A Child of the Spider can’t walk among us for very long without revealing how … different they are. And these days it’s even harder to hide.”

  “So that’s what all this is about?” China asked. “Equal rights for Children of the Spider?”

  “Equal rights imply that they’re equal to mortals. They’re not. They’re superior. We all are. My eyes were opened, China. Why should we live in squalor? Why should we hide who we are? Because that’s the way it’s always been? That’s not a valid reason.”

  “So you orchestrated a war.”

  “I orchestrated a revolution under the guise of a war. Corrival Deuce was wrong. We shouldn’t just be the guardians of the mortals. We should be their leaders. The only reason you’re still alive is because I know you share my views.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “One hundred per cent positive.”

  “That doesn’t mean I agree with your revolution.”

  “Of course you don’t agree with it,” said Ravel. “You hate change. You want the world to remain steady and predictable. So does Skulduggery. I’ve just done away with that possibility. The Warlocks are hunting for Department X. They’re going after the mortals. When we are forced to step in, when we defeat them, every sorcerer will be united under my rule. Then we take over. It’s a New World Order, China, and I’m giving you the chance to get in on the ground floor.”

  “So you need something from me.”

  “I need the Dead Men. I need Skulduggery and the others.”

  “I don’t know where they are.”

  “But you can get a message to them. You can tell them I’m going to be alone and vulnerable at a particular time.”

  China hesitated. “You want me to lead them into a trap.”

  “The Warlocks are close to attacking the mortals. To the best of our reckoning, we expect them to attack Dublin in a matter of days. We need to be ready to take them down. You said they had the Wretchlings with them, and that’s something we didn’t anticipate. If anything goes wrong before they attack, if Skulduggery disrupts our plans, the Warlocks might actually win. And then where would
we be?”

  “Dead,” said China.

  “Dead,” Ravel echoed. “So, yes, I want you to lead Skulduggery and the others into a trap. We’ll put them in shackles, put them in cells, and we’ll deal with the Warlocks. Once we’ve established our dominance over the mortals, the cell doors will be opened, and I’ll turn myself in.”

  China frowned. “You’re not going to lead?”

  “Me?” Ravel said, and laughed. “What would I know about running a world? Every country’s Sanctuary will absorb that country’s government and it’ll all continue as before, just with people like us in charge. I’ll confess to my crimes, be put away or go into exile, and my friends can live in peace.”

  “That’s almost noble.”

  “Were it not for the manipulations and murders,” Ravel nodded.

  “Be under no illusion,” Madame Mist said quietly, “if the Dead Men fail to turn up, or if they are somehow ready for us, you will be killed instantly.”

  “I’d expect nothing less,” China said.

  avel made a big show of shaking the hand of General Mantis right on the steps of the shiny new Sanctuary. Mantis’s army dissolved, soldiers becoming sorcerers once again – independent and curious – and they explored Roarhaven while the city’s people grinned proudly – both at what they had made, and for the secret they had kept for all this time. The various Elders of the Supreme Council, itself undergoing a slow dissolution, sent their warmest congratulations and made promises to visit soon.