The Dying of the Light

by Derek Landy

  The Gnarl charged.

  Darquesse rose to meet it. She flew straight for its head, hit the armoured plates and bounced off, went tumbling through the air. Its tail, it had a tail, whipped round, caught her across the waist, in between the armoured clothes. Bones broke. She smacked into the ground and sprawled.

  She lay there for a moment, blinking in surprise.

  Her bones healed, her internal organs righted themselves and she got up. The Gnarl turned, the ground juddering with every step.

  She didn’t understand how creatures of the Void were immune to magical attack. Nobody did. People had theories. They had their tests. But then, nobody understood magic, either. Not really. They did their best to confine it to disciplines and restrict it with rules, but nobody knew what magic was or where it came from or how it worked. Not really.

  Someone who understood magic, though … Someone who genuinely understood magic could reshape the universe.

  And her next step was the Hessian Grimoire.

  But first, she had to survive this encounter.

  Darquesse raised her hand, wondering if she could take the creature apart atom by atom, but it was all wrong. She couldn’t see it the way she saw everything else. She couldn’t figure it out. She couldn’t see how it could be figured out. She tried to burn it in black flames, but she could find nothing for those black flames to burn; it was like the Gnarl wasn’t even there.

  “Those clothes must be astonishing.”

  She turned. Grand Mage Zafira Kerias stood at the viewing window.

  “I don’t know how you survived that, Miss Cain,” she said, “but you’re not going to be so lucky twice.”

  Keeping one eye on the Gnarl, Darquesse edged over. She was three steps away when an energy shield spread within the window, sealing Zafira safely inside.

  “You think you’ve won,” Zafira said. “You think that’s it for Ravel’s plans. Well, it’s not. There are still people like me, people who recognise what he was trying to do. And we will not stop, do you hear me? I don’t care if I have to have every one of you killed. We will seize control of this world and every mortal will—”

  Darquesse pressed her hand against the energy shield and quickly found its frequency. The shield retracted and Zafira’s eyes widened.

  “What? How did you—?”

  Darquesse took hold of her, yanked her through the window. She held her up for a moment, dangling like a doll.

  “Oh my God,” said Zafira, eyes bulging with terror. “You’re not Valkyrie Cain. You’re—”

  “Yep,” said Darquesse.

  Then she tossed Zafira high into the air.

  The Gnarl snatched her into its mouth. Zafira’s screams ended abruptly when its molars popped her head like a freshly-laid egg.

  Watching the creature eat was fascinating. Not a pretty sight, but a mesmerising one. It chewed with its mouth open. Zafira proved both crunchy and squelchy, but an insubstantial treat. She was gone in mere seconds, and the Gnarl turned its beady eyes back to Darquesse.

  It lowered its head and charged. She moved at the last moment, barely saving herself from being gored. Even so, the impact lifted her, tossed her into the air, and the Gnarl caught her in its jaws. She barely had time to register that she was actually in this creature’s mouth before its teeth closed on her, pierced her left arm and leg, cutting through the armoured clothes like they were nothing.

  She blocked the pain, and took in many things simultaneously. The first thing was the smell, which was disgusting. The second was that not even a trace of Zafira remained. The third was the Gnarl’s flat tongue, which nudged against her, wet and sticky. It was dark in here, but she saw the teeth begin to part as the Gnarl prepared to chew.

  The thought came to her that maybe being eaten alive wasn’t a great lifestyle choice, so she extended her free hand and energy burst from her fingertips. It seared the roof of the Gnarl’s mouth. She’d been hoping it’d go straight up into the brain, but it appeared that the inside of this creature was just as durable as its armoured hide.

  Her arm and leg were suddenly free and she pulled them back, healing them, but before she could fly for the gaps between the teeth, the tongue moved beneath her and she cursed as she slid down the convulsing throat. She plunged into darkness and cold, and everything she grabbed for was wet and slimy and moving. The walls of its gullet constricted, but she stopped herself before they trapped her, spun in place and then flew upwards. Ricocheting around in its throat, she flew back towards the light, and a moment later she burst from its mouth. She kept flying till she was at the other end of the room, then turned.

  Darquesse was annoyed, frustrated, and dripping with mucous. Saliva matted her hair. Her clothes had two bloody holes torn through them. She wanted to go somewhere, grab a shower and dip her head into a bucket of potpourri in an attempt to rid herself of the smell.

  But if she left, this Gnarl would go hunting and it’d eventually find Skulduggery and the others.

  “So what?” she muttered.

  There it was again – that infection of decency. Let the Gnarl kill them. What the hell did she care? They had been trying to kill her, after all. The only reason they were nice to her now was because they thought she was Valkyrie. If they knew the truth, the last thing she’d see would be Stephanie pointing the Sceptre at her.

  Nope, the smart thing to do was to fly down to that little tunnel and follow it all the way out.

  But when she looked at the Gnarl, she knew she couldn’t leave. She couldn’t let this thing beat her.

  She flew at it, twisting to avoid the tusks. She landed on its back, punched downwards, not making the slightest dent on its hide. The tail swished at her, but she was already flying out of range. She didn’t understand this. The Gnarl was impervious to magic, sure. But shrugging off energy blasts was one thing – Darquesse could get her head round that, even if she didn’t understand how it worked yet. Shrugging off magic-augmented strength, though? Ignoring pure, physical strength, just because it was magical?

  She flew to the rock wall, punched it, grabbed a rock the size of her head before it fell. She threw it at the Gnarl. It hit between its scales like a bullet. The Gnarl screeched in anger and pain.

  Darquesse hovered over it. It could be hurt, then, just not by anything magical.

  The Gnarl reared up on its hind legs and almost snagged her foot with its teeth. She flew up, burrowing through the cavern ceiling. She changed direction, carving a large circle through the rock. She kept going, the circles getting gradually smaller and smaller as she picked up speed, and then there was a rumble and a roar and the ceiling fell in, knocking the Gnarl to the ground and smashing its skull as it was buried in rubble.

  It was almost disappointing.

  Darquesse glared at the dead creature as she landed, then turned and squeezed through the tunnel. It widened and she could walk quicker. There were lights now. And steps. She followed them to a platform that took her upwards. When she stopped, a door slid open, and she stepped into Zafira Kerias’s private quarters.

  She took a shower, washed herself and her clothes. While she dried, she held up her jacket, examined how the reinforced fabric needed to knit back together. It wasn’t easy. Ghastly’s clothes were phenomenally complicated as far as armoured clothes went, but she had put people back together atom by atom. She could handle a jacket and a pair of trousers.

  When she was done, she dressed, made sure she was presentable, and left Zafira’s quarters through the window. She re-entered the Sanctuary and managed to blend in with a crowd that included Skulduggery and the others, hauling two shackled prisoners after them.

  “How’s Fletcher?” Stephanie asked in among the confusion.

  “He’s going to be fine,” Darquesse told her. She thought for a moment, and offered a reassuring smile. Stephanie seemed to accept it.

  They met another group of sorcerers, American this time. Adrasdos in the lead. They had Darian Vector in shackles. Vector looked up, saw Darque
sse. She stared at him, but didn’t react. He looked away quickly, and she gave another smile, but this one was for herself and herself only.

  While they waited for Fletcher to be cleared by the doctors, Darquesse went for a stroll. She noted the growing alarm when the sorcerers around her failed to locate their Grand Mage. She could have told them what had happened, could have come right out and said it … but she didn’t, and that interested her.

  Obviously, she wanted Argeddion’s location and, if possible, a chance to peek at the Hessian Grimoire, but there were easier ways to achieve both those things. She could kill everyone who tried to stop her and just take the book. She could promise to end Ravel’s suffering in exchange for Argeddion’s new name. There. Simple. But here she was, pretending to be Valkyrie Cain, working alongside Skulduggery and the others like she was part of the group. Like she belonged.

  She stopped walking.

  Did she want to belong? Was there some part of her that wanted Valkyrie’s old life? Did she want people to like her?

  There were many things Darquesse could do to make people like her – even now, with the limited knowledge she possessed. She could purify the air and clean the oceans. She could reinforce the ozone layer. With a little research, she could spread a virus around the world that would eradicate cancer. She could disarm nations, end wars, stop conflicts before they even started. She could do more than save the world – she could make the world a better place. Then maybe that warm feeling deep inside her would stay. Maybe it would never leave.

  All she had to do was make a decision. It wasn’t too late. She could continue with the act until she felt it was safe to tell the truth, and then she could prove herself by helping people and saving lives. Because maybe she was wrong. Maybe people were more than energy. Maybe their personalities did matter.

  Darquesse turned, walked back the way she’d come, her smile growing wider. She was on the cusp of a brand-new day.

  Fletcher was up and ready to teleport by the time she rejoined the others. They were already in place, with a space for Darquesse between Skulduggery and Vex. They’d waited for her. She had that warm feeling again. She held their hands, everyone else linked up, and Skulduggery nodded to Fletcher. Right before they teleported, Vex moved slightly, inching away, and Darquesse noticed Stephanie looking at her.

  They teleported to a dark room and Skulduggery and Vex whipped their hands away and China was standing right in front of her with something black and metal on her arm and she reached out and touched Darquesse and

  28

  there was a crack and Stephanie watched Darquesse slump to the floor of an empty room in the Irish Sanctuary even as she yanked the Sceptre from her backpack.

  China stepped away, deactivating the Deathtouch Gauntlet as Finbar rushed in from the shadows.

  “Her brain is dead!” he cried. “Her consciousness has left the body!”

  There was an inhuman screech and Stephanie ducked as something flew past her. Finbar stepped back, waving his hand like he was swatting a fly. Fletcher hopped away, hands over his head, cursing, and then Stephanie felt it nipping at her and she recoiled, swinging a fist at thin air.

  “Keep it away!” China commanded, pulling the Soul Catcher from her robes. She hurled it to the floor and it exploded into a thousand pieces, unleashing the swirling light within, unleashing Valkyrie. The light sank into Darquesse’s dead body and Skulduggery knelt by it.

  There was another screech, but this one was drawn out and anguished, and it faded as Finbar’s gaze flickered up to the ceiling.

  “She’s gone,” he said, his voice suddenly quiet.

  China tossed a seven-pointed star to Skulduggery. It was made of thick metal and inscribed with dozens of delicate symbols. Stephanie had seen one before in the Medical Wing – a Sunburst, it was called. Skulduggery pressed the star against Darquesse’s chest, held it there while the symbols began to light up.

  No one said anything. No one moved.

  When all the symbols were lit, they flashed red and instantly faded. Skulduggery felt for a pulse. Didn’t find one.

  He tapped the Sunburst again. Once more, the symbols began to light up.

  Stephanie’s hand was hurting. She looked down, realised she was gripping the Sceptre so tightly her knuckles were going white. She returned it to her backpack as quietly as she could.

  The symbols flashed red. Still no pulse.

  She’d been right. They all knew it. It hadn’t been Valkyrie communicating through Finbar. It was Darquesse all along – though once Valkyrie had been dragged out and trapped in the Soul Catcher, Darquesse had gone on to fool everyone, Stephanie included. Only Skulduggery noticed anything wrong. Only he noticed the tiny differences, picked up on the tiny clues. Only he knew to make the call to China, to get Fletcher to fake an injury and teleport home in preparation. And now here they were, with Darquesse dragged, kicking and screaming, from Valkyrie’s body and Valkyrie put back in. But no pulse. No brain function. The Deathtouch Gauntlet had been more effective than they’d anticipated.

  Skulduggery held his hand above Valkyrie’s mouth, searching for the slightest breath. He tapped the Sunburst yet again. “It’s not working. It’s not working.”

  Nobody else moved until China stepped forward. “Skulduggery,” she said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You have to let her go.”

  He ignored her, and threw the Sunburst to Gracious. “Fix it.”

  Gracious could only stand there as Skulduggery interlaced his fingers and started pushing down on Valkyrie’s chest with his palms. A nudge from Donegan, and Gracious peered at the star, turned it over in his hands. He was something of an inventor, but Stephanie could tell by his face that he was no expert on Sunbursts.

  Skulduggery continued giving CPR to Valkyrie’s dead body. Fletcher disappeared, arriving back a few seconds later with Synecdoche. The doctor went immediately to Valkyrie’s side.

  “We need a Sunburst,” she said, checking for vital signs.

  “We tried,” China told her. “It didn’t work.”

  Synecdoche looked up, the colour draining from her face. She stopped checking for vital signs.

  Stephanie felt sick.

  “Finbar,” Vex said, “can you detect Darquesse’s presence?”

  “She hasn’t come back,” Finbar said numbly.

  “How long can she survive in her current state? Finbar? Finbar, I need you to focus.”

  Finbar looked at him. “But Valkyrie …”

  “We can mourn for Valkyrie later,” Vex said. “We need to make sure Darquesse won’t return.”

  “Right,” said Finbar. “Yeah. Darquesse is … she’s what people call an untethered entity right now. She won’t survive long outside the … outside Val’s … um, outside the body.”

  “Could she take over any other body?”

  Finbar frowned. “Maybe a Sensitive, if they were willing or, I don’t know, taken by surprise. But if she did, she’d burn out that body within hours.”

  “No ordinary sorcerer could withstand Darquesse’s level of power,” Synecdoche said. She stood up, reluctantly leaving Skulduggery on his knees alone. “Valkyrie is … was … a descendant of the Ancients – that made her special.”

  “My family,” Stephanie said, her eyes widening. “They share the same bloodline. Darquesse will be going after them!”

  China looked at her. “Your family is safe. I have my best Cleavers protecting them, each one armed with a new and improved Soul Catcher. If Darquesse even goes near them, she’ll be trapped. We’re not going to let her gain even the tiniest of footholds. Valkyrie will not have died in vain.”

  “She’s not dead yet,” Skulduggery snarled without raising his head from the CPR, but of course she was. They all knew it.

  The fact remained that Stephanie had warned them not to trust the miracle of Valkyrie’s communications, and they hadn’t listened. Maybe if they had, they’d have been able to plan a little better, maybe prepare a little more, and may
be Valkyrie would still be alive, Stephanie would not be crying these hot tears, these awful tears, maybe they would not have had to rely on some magical defibrillator, on the Sunburst thing that Gracious O’Callahan was still fiddling with, to bring her back to life.

  Gracious closed the back of the Sunburst, screwed it shut with his penknife, and tossed it over to Skulduggery. “Try it now.”

  Skulduggery pressed it into Valkyrie’s chest. It lit up. The symbols flashed red.

  The Sunburst beeped.

  And Valkyrie sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes.

  29

  THOSE WHO LIVE IN DARKNESS

  our days after Gant and Jeremiah Wallow had visited Danny’s store, Etta Faulkner comes in to convince him to protest against the plans for the proposed Starbucks. He listens and nods and murmurs where appropriate, but makes sure not to commit to anything. He knows how easy it is to get sucked into someone else’s struggle, and he’s determined to sit this one out. When she has exhausted herself of her righteous fury, Etta collects a few essentials into a basket and brings them up to the till to pay.

  “Terrible thing, what happened in Giant’s Pass,” she says as Danny rings up her purchases.

  Giant’s Pass is a small town about six hours north. It’s just like all those other towns that are just like Meek Ridge, except it’s even further from civilisation. Danny has never been there. “What happened?” he asks as he packs Etta’s things into a bag.

  “You didn’t hear?” Etta says, her eyes glittering. “Killings. Murders. Whole family is what I heard.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Found this morning, they were. Parents and children, though the children were in their twenties, or close enough to them. It’s all over the news.”

  “That’s awful,” says Danny. “They catch whoever did it?”

  Etta shakes her head. “He’s on the loose, that’s what the reporters told me.”