The Dying of the Light

by Derek Landy

“Never fight on their terms.”

  “And this is exactly what I meant. In a few days, she’ll be back to full strength and ready for us. So we don’t give her those few days. We fight her when she’s not ready. Are you with me?”

  “I suppose.”

  “That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.”

  “I’m really not in the mood.”

  He jammed his foot on the brake.

  “Jesus!” Valkyrie said, bracing herself as the Bentley screeched to a halt. She stared at him. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  He tilted his head. “I lost my hat,” he said. “You haven’t once asked what happened to it. I’ll tell you what happened to it. I lost it. As we speak, it’s probably making its way down the digestive tract of a particularly fashion-conscious Phalanx Tiger. I await your condolences.”

  “Uh … I’m sorry about your hat.”

  He leaned closer. “Why? It’s only a hat. It’s a garment, made specifically for the head. True, my dear friend Ghastly Bespoke made it just for me, but it’s still only a hat, and I have many more that he made for me.”

  Valkyrie frowned. “Right. What’s your point?”

  “Why do I need a point? I mentioned it simply because it’s something that happened. But things happen all the time. Some of them are good things. Exciting things. Things like seeing a dragon. Things like Tanith covering your escape. Other things are bad things. Distressing things. Things like losing a hat your friend made for you. Or losing the last echoes of your uncle. Things happen, Valkyrie, but life carries on regardless of how we feel.”

  “Are you trying to cheer me up? Somehow?”

  “You don’t need to be cheered up. You just have a decision to make. Allow yourself to wallow in misfortune …”

  “Or?”

  He shrugged. “Or don’t.”

  They started driving again.

  “That was your pep talk?” she asked.

  “Sort of. I also wanted to talk about my hat. But mostly it was a pep talk. Did it work? Are you pepped? I could give you another one, if you like. About a torn jacket.”

  She sighed. “The first one was fine, thank you. What’s that song you’re always whistling? ‘Accentuate the Positive’?”

  “I have literally whistled that once since you’ve known me.”

  “Whatever. So let’s do that.” She clapped her hands, sat up straighter, forced herself out of her black mood. “OK then, so in this new spirit of positivity, let’s brainstorm. Let’s kick around some ideas. How will we defeat Darquesse?”

  “The God-Killer weapons.”

  “OK, yes, good. Anything else?”

  “I’ve been thinking about this,” Skulduggery said, “and I’ve come to the conclusion that we should bring Melancholia out of her coma.”

  “That’s it!” said Valkyrie, clapping her hands again. “See, that’s the kind of brainstorming we need! Now do you have any ideas that are actually useful? Because obviously waking up Melancholia is a truly dreadful one.”

  Skulduggery said nothing.

  “Oh, come on,” said Valkyrie. “We can’t wake her up. She’s the Death Bringer. Sure, when you get to know her, she’s not that bad, but she’s unhinged and she tried to kill us. Really? Waking her up is your best idea? Something tells me she’s not a morning person.”

  “We’re going to need her as reinforcements.”

  “So who’s going to convince her to help us?”

  “Well … you’re probably the closest thing she has to a friend.”

  “That’s the saddest thing I ever heard.”

  “I know,” said Skulduggery. “I know.”

  43

  SHUNTING RAVEL

  rskine Ravel screamed.

  The doctors were giving him foul-smelling liquids to drink with his meals, to make sure he didn’t rupture his vocal cords. He did a lot of screaming. He did a lot of screaming and sweating and crying and begging. Twenty-three hours of agony a day. This was what it looked like.

  Valkyrie felt no pity.

  She watched the Cleavers drag him into the room. Dressed in prison orange with his hands shackled before him, he writhed and kicked, but they had no trouble holding on. He needed a shave and a haircut.

  Creyfon Signate walked over. Unlike Ravel, he no longer wore his jumpsuit. He was now a free man, dressed in a free man’s clothes. More than that, he was a free man with a purpose. “I’ve already shunted over a few times,” he told them. “It should be fine. The Sanctuary in the other dimension is a ruin, but this room is intact with an easy climb to the surface. No one around – that I could see anyway.”

  Skulduggery nodded. “The Cleavers will protect you if anyone turns up with bad intentions. Return here every four hours and we’ll brief you on the situation. We’re sending a doctor with you to monitor his condition, but the moment you shunt, Ravel’s pain should disappear. This means you cannot let your guard down. Understand?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Ravel was a Dead Man,” Skulduggery said. “He’s one of the most dangerous individuals I’ve ever known. Do not take your eyes off him.”

  Signate nodded, suitably chastised. “Yes, sir.”

  “Avoid contact with the natives. The world you’re shunting into is run by Mevolent. The mortals are his slaves. The Resistance is crumbling. It is not a place you want to find yourself for any length of time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “China is working on something that will hide Ravel from Darquesse’s view once he’s back. When you return, you’ll shunt him directly to this room. If she senses his presence before we’re ready, Darquesse will come straight for him.”

  “You can count on me.”

  “Good luck, Mr Signate.”

  Signate gave them a small bow, and rejoined his group – eight Cleavers, two sorcerers, one doctor, Signate himself and Erskine Ravel.

  “I quite like the fact that he’s in pain,” Valkyrie said.

  “Me too,” said Skulduggery.

  “You’re sure the pain will end once they shunt?”

  “It should.”

  “Damn.”

  “Damn indeed.”

  Signate closed his eyes. The group began to flicker.

  A moment later, they were gone.

  Valkyrie sighed, and followed Skulduggery out. “Any word on when Melancholia will be awake?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon,” he answered. “So you get to spend the night at home, and I get to change into another suit. One with a hat.”

  “All your suits have hats.”

  “Not this one,” he said quietly. “Not any more.”

  She glanced at him. “What do you think Darquesse will do to Tanith? I mean … will it be bad?”

  “I don’t know. Sincerely. Darquesse has proven herself to be most unpredictable. As has Tanith, for that matter. We can only hope.”

  “I don’t like hoping,” Valkyrie said. “I prefer knowing.”

  They crossed into warmer, busier corridors, and walked up to Saracen Rue talking with Gracious O’Callahan and Donegan Bane.

  Saracen saw them coming. His usual smile was absent. “China told us,” he said. “Just when we think we’re in the lead …”

  “How is the search for the Remnants going?” Skulduggery asked.

  “Badly,” said Gracious. “Dexter and Dai know our strategies. We still have a few tricks up our sleeves – you don’t get to be Monster Hunters without being incredibly sneaky – but they’ve vanished into the woodwork again.”

  “And we’re not as mobile as we’d like,” Saracen added. “Any sign of Fletcher?”

  Valkyrie shook her head. “We don’t know where he is. He’s not answering.”

  “We messed up.” Saracen rubbed a knuckle against his forehead like he was fighting off a headache. “We went in unprepared and we paid for it. We went looking for the usual signs of violence and unrest. We expected the Remnants to have taken hosts. But they haven’t. There have only been a few. A handful. I�
��ve never seen them exhibit this kind of behaviour before.”

  Donegan nodded. “It’s almost … disciplined.”

  “Darquesse may have something special in mind for them,” Skulduggery said. “But as for right now, if they’re not causing havoc, let’s take the opportunity to regroup and restrategise. We have other things that need our attention.”

  Valkyrie watched Saracen. His jaw was tight.

  “Has Ravel gone?” he asked.

  Skulduggery looked at him. “Yes. If we’re right about that psychic link, Darquesse should be aware that he’s fallen off the grid. She’ll come looking for him, but not yet. She has to build up her strength first. Our task is to build up our strength faster. We need the city’s shield ready to activate. We need the fortifications secure. We need people in place. Once that’s done, we’ll bring Ravel back. Darquesse should sense him again, and hopefully she’ll be compelled to re-establish that pain link. But she’ll have to do that in person.”

  “You’re expecting her to just walk into Roarhaven before she’s at full strength?” said Saracen.

  “Yes.”

  “You expect her to do this because of her hatred for Ravel.”

  “Among other things, yes.”

  “OK then. But can you do me a favour? Can we spring the trap after she re-establishes that pain link?”

  “We’ll take what we can get,” Skulduggery said, his voice grim.

  Saracen nodded, walked away.

  Valkyrie looked at Gracious and Donegan. “We saw a dragon,” she said excitedly.

  They took a moment to stare at her.

  “What?” said Donegan.

  “A dragon,” she said. “A real one. It lives in the caves. We saw it, didn’t we, Skulduggery?”

  “We saw it,” Skulduggery said, almost reluctantly.

  Gracious’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Seriously? You seriously saw a dragon? A proper dragon?”

  “It was huge,” Valkyrie said, grinning. “Bigger than anything. It had wings, and I think it breathed fire.”

  “A fire-breathing dragon!” Gracious said, clinging to Donegan’s arm. “We must see it! Where is it?”

  “Down this bottomless pit.”

  “Damn it! I hate bottomless pits! I was trapped down a bottomless pit for days once.”

  “That wasn’t bottomless,” Donegan said.

  “It felt bottomless.”

  “You were at the bottom.”

  “Well, it was a long way down.”

  “This pit really was bottomless,” Valkyrie said. “I think it was anyway.”

  “A fire-breathing dragon living in a bottomless pit,” Gracious said happily. “We should give it a name. All great dragons have names. Smaug. Drogon. Fin Fang Foom. Puff. They all have names.”

  “Gordon,” said Valkyrie.

  “Gordon the dragon?”

  “He would have loved that.”

  Gracious nodded. “Yeah. That’s nice. But how about Destructorface?”

  “Gordon it is,” said Donegan, leading Gracious away.

  “Spreading joy is a special gift in dark times,” Skulduggery said, his hand on Valkyrie’s shoulder. “And you have made those two the happiest Monster Hunters in the world.”

  “I do what I can.”

  “Come on,” he said. “Let everyone else worry and work for the next few hours. You deserve a night off.”

  44

  A BETTER PERSON

  mell, someone had once told Valkyrie, was the single most powerful trigger of memories. Somewhat ironically, she didn’t remember who’d told her that, or why, or where she was when she was told, though she had no reason to doubt the truth of it. But when she woke from her bad dream and walked down the stairs of the house she’d grown up in and the smell of roast chicken was waiting for her, she wasn’t transported back to one particular time or one particular occasion. Instead, memory piled upon memory to form an indistinct sense of warmth and belonging and love and home, and a smile grew up from within her so that when she reached the kitchen she was beaming.

  Her mother was at the table, eyes fixed on the laptop while her dad hovered over her shoulder, pointing at the screen.

  “Click that,” he said. “That looks important. We should click it and see what it does.”

  Her mum batted his hand away. “Go on, shoo. You’re not allowed near this.”

  “But it’s mine.”

  “Hiya,” Valkyrie said, crossing straight to the oven.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” her mum said. “Lunch will be another half an hour or so.”

  Valkyrie opened the oven, inhaled the steam that billowed out, and closed it again, her mouth watering. “Oh, I’m starving,” she said. “What are you doing?”

  “Your father has a mission,” her mum said, sighing.

  Her dad stood straighter. “That USB thing. It’s a video. We’re downloading something that’ll let us play it. Well, we think we are. We might not be. To be honest, we haven’t a clue what we’re doing.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” her mum said, a little annoyed.

  “Ah, a USB,” Valkyrie said. “How quaint. Half an hour, you say? I’ll be right back.”

  “Leaving us so soon?” her mum asked.

  “Just going to pop over to Fergus and Beryl’s and say hi.”

  Her parents stared at her.

  “Why?” they both said at the same time.

  Valkyrie laughed. “You’re funny.”

  As she left the house, she heard her dad say, “No, seriously, why?”

  She took the short cut across the beach. The tide was out and the sky was grey. A few joggers on the sand. Some people walking their dogs. She didn’t know why she wanted to see her aunt and uncle. Some part of her just wanted to talk to them, to connect with them in some way. It was probably because of Gordon. She’d lost her favourite uncle for the second time and she was, what? She was grieving?

  Valkyrie stopped walking. She was grieving.

  Tears came to her eyes, but she wiped them away angrily. No. No crying. She’d cried enough. She’d deal with her loss later, when she had the luxury of time. She’d deal with it the same way she was going to deal with the guilt she felt over the things she’d done as Darquesse. She’d deal with it alone, without anyone around to see it. She walked on.

  When she got to Fergus and Beryl’s house, the car was gone. She thought about just turning round and going home, but knocked on the door anyway, and Carol’s reflection answered.

  “Hello, Stephanie.”

  Valkyrie looked at it. “Hi. Are Fergus or Beryl home?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Crystal?”

  “She’s out. With her boyfriend. She has a boyfriend now. He doesn’t treat her very well.”

  “I know what you are.”

  Carol’s reflection looked at her without expression. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not her. You’re not Carol. You’re her reflection. The real Carol is dead.”

  “And you’re Darquesse.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  “Stephanie came over and told me what happened. Valkyrie allowed you to take over and now you’re free. Valkyrie’s gone and Stephanie has assumed her rightful place as daughter and sister.”

  Despite herself, Valkyrie smiled. “Is that what she said? Her rightful place? Yeah, that sounds like her. What was the last thing Stephanie told you?”

  “She came over about two weeks ago,” Carol’s reflection said. “She told me she’s been helping Skulduggery Pleasant track you down. She couldn’t wait for it to be over. Are you going to kill us now?”

  “No. God, no. I’m not going to kill anyone. I’m not Darquesse. I’m me again, I’m Valkyrie. But Stephanie … she died.”

  The reflection’s expression didn’t change. “Oh. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Yeah, you look it.”

  “Since you know I’m not really Carol, I’m not bothering to appear convincing.
If you’d rather I respond with appropriate emotions—”

  “No,” Valkyrie said quickly. “No acting. This is fine.”

  “OK. Then if you’re not here to kill me, why are you here?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Valkyrie said. “I wanted to see Fergus. Don’t really know what I’d have said to him, but … and I suppose I wanted to check up on you, now that Stephanie isn’t able to any more. I wanted to see what you’re like. How do you feel?”

  “I don’t feel. All my emotions are simulated.”

  “And what do you think of your family?”

  “Are you asking what Carol thinks of her family or what this representation of Carol thinks of her family? Because I hold no opinion.”

  It sounded so familiar. It sounded just like Valkyrie’s own reflection had, way back at the start. “So you don’t see yourself as an improvement on the real Carol?”

  “The only advantage I have over Carol is that she is dead and I am not.”

  “So what are your plans?”

  “Stephanie told me what my role is,” the reflection said. “I’m to take over as Carol until my family is dead. I will age with them, I will follow the course of Carol’s life as it unfolds before me. I will get a job, probably get married and start a family of my own, and hopefully make my parents proud.”

  “Can you start a family?”

  “I am flesh and blood. There’s no reason why not.”

  “And what about Crystal?”

  “Stephanie told me to avoid Crystal for the time being. As Carol’s twin, she’s more likely to spot the flaws in my performance. When enough time has passed, I will work to establish a sisterly bond. She’ll notice some changes, but I’m confident these will be overlooked.”

  “And what about this boyfriend of hers?”

  “Stephanie advised me on that also. She told me I’m my sister’s protector. If Crystal’s boyfriend damages her, emotionally or physically, I am to damage him physically in an appropriate, measured response.”

  “Huh,” Valkyrie said. “Seems like you’ve got everything sorted.”

  “I know my role.”

  “How is Crystal doing?”

  “At home, she’s withdrawn. Sullen. The gap between us is affecting her, which is unfortunate but necessary. Apart from her boyfriend, she’s making good friends, and spending more time out of the house. She’s becoming quite sociable.”