by Derek Landy
“Maybe a little,” said Stephanie. “At first, anyway. But I’m looking forward to being normal again. It sounds dumb, but being normal is what I find exciting.”
“Yeah,” said Valkyrie. “That does sound dumb.”
They laughed.
“I want to say goodbye tomorrow, though,” said Stephanie. “You know, to Skulduggery and China and, like …”
“Fletcher?”
“Well … I don’t know if I’d have to say goodbye to …”
“What exactly is, uh, going on between you two?”
“I don’t know,” said Stephanie. “I don’t know how he feels about, like, the whole thing, or what he’ll do when I tell him I’m quitting …”
“But you like him?”
“Well … yeah.”
“And he likes you?”
“I think so.”
“And you’re going to want to continue … seeing him?”
“Maybe,” said Stephanie. “Yes. If he wants to, I mean. I don’t know how he’ll react to me being normal.”
“And how are we going to do this?” Valkyrie asked. “You and me and my … you and me and our family?”
“Well,” Stephanie said, thinking it over, “I suppose we could … we could choose not to treat it any differently. I mean, if you’re cool with it, I’d spend most of my time here, and a couple of times a week I could stay in Gordon’s house while you take my place. It won’t be as easy as getting the memories straight into our heads, but we could just, y’know, tell each other what’s been happening before we switch places.”
“Tell each other,” Valkyrie echoed. “How revolutionary.”
“I know, right?”
“You realise we’re going to be arguing a lot, yeah?”
Stephanie shrugged. “I’m OK with that if you are.”
“Well, at least it’d be intelligent conversation.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “That’s such a Skulduggery thing to say.”
“Shut up,” Valkyrie said, laughing. “Well, I suppose if tomorrow is your last day risking your life, you should probably be the one to get the bed.”
“Maybe,” said Stephanie. “Or, y’know … it’s a pretty big bed, for a single. We could share it.”
Valkyrie smiled. “Cool.”
“But I get the good pillow.”
34
SAYING GOODBYE
atching Valkyrie and Skulduggery together, Stephanie was actually jealous of all the things she’d been denied. She envied that relationship, the confidence that Valkyrie exuded around Skulduggery, where she knew she would have his support and understanding no matter what. Stephanie didn’t have that kind of relationship with anyone. She was still treading with a light foot, even around Fletcher. She couldn’t afford to screw up. Not yet.
It’d get better, though. She knew it would. It was already better now than it had been at the start. The more she was around people, the more she changed their attitudes towards her. To Skulduggery, to China and Saracen and the Monster Hunters, she wasn’t just the faulty reflection any more. She was Stephanie. A person. An individual.
It was just typical that just as she was about to reap the rewards of all the work she’d put in here, all the things she’d done, she’d reached the point where it was time to leave it all behind.
But she was glad to go. Mostly. She wasn’t wired the same way that Valkyrie was. She wasn’t dissatisfied with life in Haggard, with life as a normal person. She wasn’t drawn to danger, or adventure, or darkness. Her original purpose as a reflection was to carry on with Valkyrie’s normal routine – was it really so hard to believe that she’d grown to love that routine? Her parents, her sister, her friends, her town, her future … these were all things that interested her. These were all things she needed. She certainly wasn’t going to miss hitting people. She certainly wasn’t going to miss being hit.
But even so … she was envious.
“Mortal female, forty-six years old,” Skulduggery was saying as he and Valkyrie walked through the Sanctuary. Stephanie trailed after them. “We’d been keeping an eye on her as she’d displayed some psychic tendencies in the past. Nothing too earth-shattering, but enough to register as an untrained Sensitive. Her body was found early this morning. Little more than a dried-out husk.”
“Darquesse?” Valkyrie asked.
Skulduggery nodded. “Looks like it. From what we can gather, Darquesse couldn’t have possessed her for more than three hours before she burned up.”
“Where was the body found?”
“In a field near Ashbourne. Her car was nearby.”
“So Darquesse possessed this woman and that’s as far as she could get?” asked Valkyrie. “What’s in Ashbourne?”
“Our operative on the scene noticed some fresh tyre tracks nearby. A motorbike.”
“Tanith?”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t know,” Valkyrie said, and glanced back at Stephanie. “What do you think? Tanith was talking last night like she was ready to call it quits.”
“She could have changed her mind,” said Stephanie. “Darquesse could have called her after she left us, when she was still in this woman’s body, and convinced her to come back.”
“I don’t want to assume it’s Tanith until we’ve at least verified that the tyre tracks match her bike,” said Skulduggery. “Maybe it’s not her. Maybe it’s someone else entirely who’s got nothing to do with any of this.”
They met two sorcerers coming the other way, escorting a man in a nice suit with a harried look on his face. Skulduggery held up a hand, and all three slowed to a stop.
“Keir Tanner,” Skulduggery said. “Do you know who I am?”
The harried gentleman, Tanner, nodded distractedly. “Of course. Not too many living skeletons around, even in Roarhaven.”
“Indeed there aren’t,” Skulduggery said. “Valkyrie, Stephanie, Mr Tanner here is Chief Warden of Ironpoint Gaol, scene of the audacious midday escape by our old friend Doctor Nye. Any idea how this escape occurred, Warden Tanner?”
Tanner sighed. “Someone got in, bypassed the security protocol, sneaked Nye to the surface where, we think, it stowed away on a truck.”
“Forgive me, Warden,” said Skulduggery, “but you make that sound astonishingly easy.”
Tanner flushed. “We’re a low-security prison, Detective Pleasant. The Sanctuary knew that when they shipped Nye to us, but we were the only place with a cell big enough to accommodate it. And Nye wasn’t even a security risk, at least not according to the file I was sent.”
“That doesn’t mean we expected someone to be able to walk the prisoner out the front door,” Valkyrie said.
Tanner ground his teeth. Stephanie could almost hear it. “I assure you, we are conducting a thorough investigation into how this happened. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I came here to help with organising a search, not to be berated by a mass murderer.”
Stephanie’s eyebrows shot up and Skulduggery slammed Tanner against the wall. The other two sorcerers tried to pull him back, and Valkyrie just stood there, stunned.
“Let go of me!” Tanner commanded, his face flushed bright red. “Release me this instant!”
Ignoring the attempts to separate them, Skulduggery leaned in close, and whispered something into Tanner’s ear. Whatever he said, it was enough to turn that flushed face deathly pale.
Skulduggery stepped away. The sorcerers grabbed Tanner, hurried him onwards. They passed Stephanie and Tanner looked terrified.
“Where were we?” Skulduggery asked when Tanner was gone.
“Is that how people see me?” Valkyrie asked in a quiet voice.
Skulduggery didn’t have an immediate response to that.
“Some of them,” said Stephanie. “Especially here. They look at you – they look at me – and all they see is the face of the person who killed all their loved ones. They hate Darquesse. They hate us. You’re just going to have to get used to it.”
Valkyrie looked
at her. “You’ve had to endure this since that day?”
“You’ll learn to ignore it. Or almost ignore it.”
Valkyrie chewed her lip for a few seconds, then said, “So much for the moral high ground.”
Stephanie laughed. “Yeah, you can’t stay up there any longer.”
“I loved that place,” Valkyrie muttered.
“The moral high ground is overrated,” Skulduggery said, “and the view’s much better from down here. Come along, troublemakers.”
“Actually,” Stephanie said, “I just want to say goodbye to the Engineer, if that’s OK?”
“By all means,” said Skulduggery.
“I’ll come get you when we’re ready to go,” Valkyrie said. Stephanie nodded, and headed off by herself.
Within minutes, she’d left the new Sanctuary behind, and was back in the cold and dark remains of the old. She got to the Accelerator Room, and the Engineer looked up.
“Hello, Stephanie,” it said.
She grinned. “And how do you know I’m not the recently-returned Valkyrie Cain? Is it because I’m not wearing black?”
“Not at all,” said the Engineer. “You walk differently. You are lighter on the balls of your feet, whereas she walks like she has a weight upon her shoulders.”
Stephanie’s grin faded. “That’s … kind of sad, actually. I would’ve thought she’d be the cheerier one.”
“I suppose it cannot be easy, being the architect of the world’s demise.”
“You’re depressing me.”
“Oh!” said the Engineer. “Well, I certainly did not intend to do that. I should point out that visions of the apocalypse and prophecies of doom rarely turn out to be accurate. So far anyway.”
“I’m going to miss these chats of ours.”
“You are leaving?”
“Retiring,” Stephanie said. “I’m going to leave the fighting to Valkyrie. She can save the world. I just want to live in it.”
“In that case, I wish you a happy retirement,” said the Engineer. “Would you like to know how long before the Accelerator overloads, for old time’s sake?”
Stephanie opened her mouth – then paused. “No,” she smiled. “That’s not my problem any more.”
“Very well. Have a nice life, Stephanie.”
“You too, Engineer,” she said, and walked out. And that was it. That was all she’d needed. A simple choice like that, and it all changed. Her future opened up before her. Blossomed like a flower. Every opportunity, every avenue, came into sudden, vivid clarity. She would be a good daughter, a great sister, a wonderful girlfriend, a decent person. She would finish that Stephen King book. She would go to college. She would live and love. She would be vibrant and happy and thoughtful and strong. She had long outgrown her limitations as a reflection, and now she would outgrow her limitations once more.
Stephanie laughed.
The fist caught her in the side of the head and the corridor tilted and threw her to the unsteady ground. She rolled, not sure which way was up. She got her feet under her and straightened her legs, staggered against the wall. The whole world spun and the wall wasn’t there any more and she was falling through an open door.
A man appeared in the doorway, a giant of a man, muscled arms bursting from his sleeveless denim jacket, long black hair in tangles. She knew him. She knew his face, ugly as it was. Obloquy. He was one of Vincent Foe’s little band of nihilists. She backed up unsteadily, expecting Foe to make his presence known. But it seemed that Obloquy was here alone. Obloquy the giant, the thug. The Sensitive.
But of course it wasn’t Obloquy. Not really. He was sweating, and his movements were clumsy. He was a vehicle that someone was taking for a test drive, and not planning to return.
“Darquesse,” Stephanie said.
Darquesse twisted her male face into a leering grin, and swung a punch. Stephanie saw it coming. She ducked under it and lunged, going for Darquesse’s eyes, but Darquesse was already raising a knee.
It was an awkward move, but it caught Stephanie right in the belly. Her jacket was open, unzipped, and the knee took the breath out of her. She stumbled away, her muscles in spasm.
“Did I hear right?” Darquesse asked, following. “You’re retiring? You’re saying your goodbyes? Did you honestly think that was going to happen? Really? You think you’re the one, out of everyone, who gets a happy ending?”
Stephanie straightened, sucking in air. She tried to zip up her jacket but the zipper was stuck.
Darquesse brushed her matted hair out of her eyes. “I mean, I understand it. That desire. A happy ending sounds nice, doesn’t it? I had a happy ending in mind, too. I was going to do what you were trying to do. I was going to fit in. I was going to belong. But they weren’t content with that. They wanted Valkyrie back. Wouldn’t settle for anything less.”
“You don’t look well, Darquesse,” Stephanie said. Her voice was weak. Her lungs couldn’t draw in enough breath to shout for help.
“I don’t look well, do I?” Darquesse agreed. “I can feel my organs boiling inside me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“Must suck.”
“I might not be able to use my powers, but this body will do the job. It’s enough to kill you.”
“I’m not going to die,” said Stephanie. “I’ve got too much to live for.”
Darquesse closed in. “Life and death are just two ways in which energy moves. Two possible paths out of a billion. Look. I’ll show you.”
She moved in and Stephanie dodged under her swipe, slammed a boot heel to the side of her knee and watched her shift her weight drastically. Her instinct was to go for the head – always go for the head – but Darquesse had picked this guy for his size. Stephanie would need to work her way up.
Darquesse lunged, grabbed Stephanie’s right arm and threw a punch that would have taken her head off if she hadn’t stepped in to smack her forehead into Darquesse’s mouth. Darquesse howled, blood spraying from burst lips. Maybe the blow had broken a tooth or two. Stephanie hoped it had, because the headbutt had hurt her, too, sent bright flashes of light exploding behind her vision. Darquesse stepped back, both hands at her face, and Stephanie crouched, threw an uppercut right into Darquesse’s groin. Darquesse made a sound like a stone door being opened, all grinding and hollow, and she doubled over, eyes bulging for a moment before screwing shut in slow-delivered pain. Stephanie danced back a step and kicked, her toe catching Darquesse just under the chin. That should have put her down. Instead, her big man’s legs shook a little, and after a moment she straightened up again.
Stephanie feinted one way, went the other, foot swinging for that knee. What was it Patrick Swayze said in that movie Tanith had made her watch? Take the biggest guy in the world, shatter his knee and he’ll drop like a stone. Damn right. Look at Darquesse now, lurching, hobbling, her bloody face contorted in pain, her breath coming in ragged wheezes. All Stephanie had to do was keep dictating the distance between them until she could break off and run.
Darquesse dropped back, glaring at her.
“You’re not much without magic, are you?” Stephanie said. Her breathing was back under control. Her voice was strong again. She kept circling, getting closer to the door.
“New body,” Darquesse responded, blood dribbling from her mouth. “Takes a while to get the hang of things. Also, male. There’s some vulnerable spots I’m not used to.”
“You’ve got more muscles to make up for it.”
“Suppose I do,” Darquesse said. “But I can’t be relying on stuff like that, can I? I have to remember who I am. Have to remember my training. Which, now that I think of it, is exactly the same training as yours. This is going to be interesting, isn’t it?”
Darquesse smiled, and took a limping step forward. Stephanie took one back. Darquesse wiped the blood from her mouth, looked at it, then flicked her hand out. Drops of blood splattered across Stephanie’s face and she flinched, and in that split second Darquesse forgot about her l
imp and dived across the space between them. A huge hand grabbed Stephanie’s shoulder and the other ripped the jacket off her. A punch cracked her ribs, then an elbow came in with the force of a wrecking ball, shattering her jaw.
Pain screamed through her body and she fell into the corridor. They went down, Darquesse a crushing weight on top. Stephanie tasted blood, swallowed broken teeth. She squirmed frantically, shifting her hips. She went for the eyes, but Darquesse kept her head out of range, so Stephanie grabbed the hand that gripped her shoulder, swung her legs up, tried to force Darquesse into an arm bar, but Darquesse got her feet beneath her and she stood, taking Stephanie up, lifting her off the ground, and then she let herself fall and Stephanie hit the floor and Darquesse landed on her and Stephanie’s arms and legs splayed wide open with the impact.
She felt thick fingers at her throat, but her body was too stunned to react.
Then she heard voices. Valkyrie. Fletcher.
She tried to shout, but her jaw sent fresh waves of pain crashing through her. Darquesse abandoned the choke, went searching through her jacket for something. Stephanie’s body was starting to respond again. Darquesse took a wooden sphere from her pocket, twisted the hemispheres in opposite directions, and a bubble rippled out, enveloping them both just as Valkyrie and Fletcher came round the corner.
“You don’t think it’s weird, do you?” Fletcher asked in a low voice, oblivious to Stephanie and Darquesse only a few paces away. Stephanie wanted to call out, for all the good it would do with the cloaking sphere preventing sound from escaping the bubble, but Darquesse’s fingers were squeezing her throat and she could barely breathe, let alone shout.
“Actually, yeah,” Valkyrie said, “I think it’s very weird, to be honest. You’re doing things with her and she’s me, essentially, so even though we’ve broken up, you’re still getting to do stuff with … OK, listen, it’s just unsettling.”
“Amazingly, this isn’t all about you,” said Fletcher.
“Oh, really?” Valkyrie said, not bothering to hide her scepticism.
Stephanie tried a closed-mouth roar as they passed right beside her, but they didn’t even glance down.
