by Derek Landy
“You’re the Death Bringer, one of the two most powerful Necromancers who have ever lived. And you were unstable, both magically and … mentally.”
Melancholia blinked at her. “Harsh.”
“But true.”
“But still harsh. So I’ve been in a coma for … how long?”
“A year and a half.”
Her eyes widened. “What? A year and a half? What the hell?”
“They had to do it.”
“A year and a half?”
“Please calm down. If you don’t calm down, they’ll come in here and sedate you.”
Melancholia stared at her, then did her best to relax. “Wow. Eighteen months. That’s … So I’m twenty-two. I am twenty-two years old. Right. That’s a bit of a shock.”
“I’d say so.”
“So what did I, you know, what did I miss? Anything good?”
“Over the last year and a half?” Valkyrie said. “Well, the Necromancers kind of retreated into their temples. There was this guy called Argeddion and he wanted to make all the mortals magic. We stopped him, don’t worry. You missed a war between our Sanctuary and virtually the whole world. Erskine Ravel betrayed us, killed Ghastly Bespoke and Anton Shudder. Now China Sorrows is in charge and everyone is doing pretty much what we tell them. Oh, also, there are aliens now.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“I hate you so much.”
“But everything else is true. And Darquesse – and this has just happened over the last few weeks – Darquesse kind of took me over and killed a load of people, but now she’s out and she’s inhabiting my reflection’s body and we think she’s going to destroy the world.”
“So now there’s another you out there—”
“Not me.”
“So now there’s someone out there who looks like you and sounds like you and is, in fact, you, except she’s evil, and you need to stop her, and that’s why I’ve been woken up. Right?”
“Basically.”
In spite of everything, Melancholia smiled. “So you have an evil twin.”
“She’s not my twin,” said Valkyrie, “she’s just … I mean, OK, evil, sure, you can call her evil, but she’s not, I wouldn’t call her … Why are you laughing?”
“I’m sorry, but that’s just really funny. So why do you need me? Can’t your skeleton friend just turn into Vile and go after her?”
“First of all,” said Valkyrie, “I told you to shut up about that. Second, Vile is hard to control. Third, even if Skulduggery could control Vile, Darquesse is just too powerful. We need all the heavy hitters we can find.”
“And what happens to me when it’s over? Providing I survive, of course? I’m put back in my cosy little coma?”
“No. You’ll be set free, but …”
“But what?”
Valkyrie hesitated. “But we’ll need to cut you off from magic.”
Melancholia was already pale enough, but now she went paler. “Permanently?”
Valkyrie nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish there were another way, but everyone I speak to says the same thing. Craven’s experiments on you resulted in a level of power that is just too unpredictable. Once Darquesse is taken care of, China’s people will try to contain as much of your magic as they can, and Sensitives will put up walls in your mind. Your memory will be altered and your personality will be slightly … rewritten. They’ve been doing that a lot lately and—”
“You’re talking about killing me.”
“No, we’re—”
“Yes, Valkyrie. Changing my memories and my personality until I’m no longer the same person. That’s killing me.”
Valkyrie sat forward, her hand on Melancholia’s. “The alternative is worse. The alternative is putting you back in that coma, or you walking around with your fluctuating power. You’d be a danger to everyone – yourself included. At least this way you’ll be able to live a normal life.”
“A mortal life,” Melancholia said. “What do I know about living as a mortal? They pass you in the street, these dull-eyed cattle, going about their grey little lives, rushing home to watch their favourite television shows, inane people doing mundane things … and you want me to be one of them? You want me to give up the magic that makes life worth living? Tell me this, Valkyrie – if this is such a wonderful opportunity, would you do it? Would you give up magic?”
“I didn’t have to.”
“But if you were in my situation and had my—”
“It was taken from me.”
Melancholia frowned. “What?”
“When they pulled Darquesse from my mind, she took all the magic with her.”
“You’re … mortal?”
“It’s not so bad.”
Melancholia looked at her. “You’re lying.”
“I’ll get used to it. So will you.”
“I … I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“I’ll be there to help when you need it.”
“But I hate you.”
Valkyrie smiled. “No you don’t.”
“No, I do. I want to kill you and stuff.”
“We actually became friends in those caves.”
“That’s not what happened,” said Melancholia.
“We’re pals. We’re buddies.”
“If my wrists weren’t in shackles, my hands would be round your throat.”
“You want to hug my throat because we’re friends.”
“I really hate you.”
Valkyrie squeezed her hand. “I’m going to leave you alone for a bit, let you think about it. It’s a huge decision to make. But at least you get to make the decision.”
Melancholia had tears in her eyes she was trying to fight against. “Your face is stupid.”
Valkyrie squeezed her hand again, and left.
48
A NEW ROARHAVEN
anith woke.
There was the taste of blood in her mouth, and she had the king of all sore throats. She felt sick, like someone had stomped on her insides. Apart from that, though, she seemed to be fine. Unhurt.
She took a look around. She was sitting on the floor in a small room, shackled to a radiator. She didn’t remember how she’d got here. The last thing she remembered was …
She shook her head. Unimportant. What was important was getting out. The shackles were tight, and the radiator solid. There were scrapes where her chain was looped. Someone had been in this exact same situation, and recently, too. She wondered if they’d managed to escape.
Footsteps. She pressed her back against the wall. Billy-Ray Sanguine walked in.
“Should have known you’d be involved,” Tanith said. Her voice was rough. It surprised her. “What the hell is going on? Where are the others?”
“Others?” Sanguine said, closing the door behind him. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His tie was loose. He looked comfortable, like this was home to him.
“Yes,” she said. “Others. As in the people who are going to tear your head off when they come to get me. Skulduggery. Valkyrie. Ghastly. The others.”
She didn’t get a smirk in response. She’d been expecting one. Instead, he nudged his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. He almost seemed shy. “What’s … what’s the last thing you remember?”
Tanith hadn’t been expecting that, either. She was going to dismiss the question, ignore it and bombard him with questions of her own, but the fact was …
“Fighting,” she said. “Fighting alongside Valkyrie and Skulduggery against … against everyone.”
“The Remnants,” Sanguine said.
It came back to her. Christmas. The Remnants taking over. She sat forward. “Is that what you are? Did they get you, too?”
“No, Tanith,” Sanguine said. “I ain’t a Remnant. But all that … all that happened a little over two years ago.”
“What?”
“The Remnants, most of them at least, were trapped in that Receptacle thing. Everyone woke up with sore hea
ds and no memory of what had happened. Everyone except …”
He trailed off.
Her frown deepened. “You’re lying.”
“No I’m not.”
“You’re lying,” she said. “You really expect me to believe that I’ve had a Remnant inside me for two years? Then answer me this – how the hell did I get rid of it?”
“Wasn’t your choice,” Sanguine said. “Darquesse re-formed it inside you and dragged it out.”
She sneered. “Oh, so now Darquesse is loose.”
“Yeah. And she’s Valkyrie.” Sanguine frowned. “Well, she was. Now she’s the reflection … Listen, it’s complicated as hell. I’d love to explain everything, I really would, but we don’t have time. You killed someone, a nasty piece of work called Mercy. One of Vincent Foe’s people? You cut her head off, and Vincent is none too happy about it. I have a feeling he might be waiting till Darquesse is looking the other way and then he’s gonna come in here, wanting your head in compensation. You’ve gotta get outta here.” He reached for her.
“Touch me and you’ll never use that hand again.”
Sanguine froze, and pulled his hand back. “Tanith, a lot of stuff has happened since you been gone. Darquesse is here. There was a war between the Sanctuaries. The Remnants are out – again. They’ve taken over this little town called Thurles, or something like that. Things have happened and you gotta be ready for—”
“Why are you talking to me like we’re friends?”
“Because we’re …” He faltered. “Because I thought we were friends,” he said at last. “We’ve been through a lot together recently. We were partners, more or less.”
Tanith laughed. “Now I know you’re lying. I’d never partner up with someone like you.”
Colour rose in his cheeks. “Yeah, well, I guess your standards slipped. Listen, you can either let me get you outta those shackles, give you back your sword and let you hightail it outta here, or you can give me attitude and bad manners and wait for your head to be chopped off. Up to you, princess.”
“Why would you help me?”
He stared at her. “Like I said, we were friends.”
She didn’t trust Sanguine, but he’d been true to his word. She was free, with her sword on her back and her head on her shoulders. She didn’t understand it, though. Didn’t understand any of it. She leaped across rooftops until she came to the neighbourhood she was looking for. Across the street, a man took his dog for a midnight walk. Nothing suspicious about him. Nothing suspicious about his dog, either. It all looked very normal. Very civilian. Very mortal.
But this street was full of sorcerers – or it had been, the last time Tanith was here. Every one of these houses was more than it appeared and, as such, she had to be careful. If she had, in fact, spent the last two years as a Remnant, then who knew what kind of enemies she’d made?
When the man was gone and there was no one else around, Tanith dropped to street level. One hand on the hilt of the sword hidden beneath her coat, she hurried to the door of Bespoke Tailors, and slammed her fist against it.
The shop was dark. She knocked again, harder this time. No lights flicked on inside. No one home.
Back when telephones had been stationary things with rotary dials, Tanith could recite the numbers of dozens of people without even thinking about it. But things were different now. She doubted she’d ever tapped out Ghastly’s actual number in order to call him, or Valkyrie’s or Skulduggery’s, for that matter. So here she was, alone in Dublin City, with no idea how to contact her friends.
She didn’t even know where the Sanctuary was. The last thing she’d heard, there were plans to use Roarhaven as their new base of operations. She didn’t like that idea. It was a small grey town full of narrow-minded, spiteful people. The Torment had lived in Roarhaven, and probably a few other Children of the Spider. Anyone who didn’t like mortals could find a sympathetic ear in that horrible little place. Unfortunately, it was her best chance at getting in touch with her friends.
She didn’t have any cash to pay for a taxi, so she jumped from rooftop to rooftop until she found a motorbike she could steal. She didn’t even have a pen and paper to leave an apologetic note.
She hot-wired the engine, pulled out on to the road, and gunned it.
She got lost twice. She’d only been to Roarhaven once, years ago, and the turn was hard to spot, but as she followed the winding road she started to think that maybe some of this was familiar. When the road straightened, Tanith knew she’d come the right way.
She saw tail lights ahead of her. A car parked at the side of the road. An elderly man waved to her as she slowed.
“Afraid the road’s closed, miss,” he said.
“The Sanctuary’s up here, is it?” Tanith asked.
The smile remained on his face. “The what? I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with the—”
“My name is Tanith Low. If the Sanctuary is in Roarhaven, I’d like to come in. I’ve been possessed by a Remnant for the past two years. I’ll wait, while you call it in.”
The elderly man lost the smile. He nodded to her and backed away. Tanith stayed on the bike, but turned off the engine. She heard him speak into a radio, but couldn’t make out the words. Thirty seconds later, he came back – but kept his distance.
“Miss Low,” he said, “some Cleavers are on their way now to escort you in. I have been asked to try to shackle you. Would you be agreeable to that?”
“That depends,” said Tanith. “Who’s Grand Mage?”
“China Sorrows.”
Tanith frowned. “How the hell did she manage that?”
“I couldn’t possibly comment,” said the old man. “So … the shackles?”
Tanith sighed and held out her hands. By this stage, the headlights of a truck were approaching.
This was a different Roarhaven to the one she had visited. It wasn’t a town any more – it was a city. As she was driven through it, Tanith glimpsed the old drabness still present in places, but this only made the newer buildings appear all the more glorious.
When she was here last, the Sanctuary had been a low, charmless, circular building. Now it was a palace. It had towers and steeples, a brightly-lit beacon to keep the darkness back. The inside was just as glorious, even though she was escorted through it with a ring of Cleavers around her.
Once the doctors had determined that there was no Remnant present, her shackles were removed and Tanith was taken to a quiet room for debriefing. She was brought a coffee. She drank it while her stomach rumbled. She waited for whomever they would send.
The door handle rattled and Valkyrie burst in.
“Oh, thank God,” Tanith said, actually laughing. “I was getting worried for a—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish. She didn’t even get a chance to stand up. Valkyrie wrapped her in a hug so tight it was hard to move.
“You’re alive,” Valkyrie whispered.
“You sound surprised.”
Valkyrie hugged her tighter. “I saw you yesterday. You were covering my escape.”
“I helped you?” Tanith said. “Even when I had a Remnant inside me?”
Valkyrie released her and stepped back, smiling. “Even then,” she said.
Valkyrie had changed. She was taller, for a start. Stronger. Tanith had felt it in the hug, and now she saw it in the shoulders.
“You look great,” she said.
“It is so good to have you back.” Valkyrie ignored the chair and sat on the corner of the table.
“I’m going to take your word for that,” said Tanith. “To me, I only saw you a few hours ago. Val, Sanguine said some strange things. I know a lot has happened since I’ve been gone, but some of what he said was pure nuts. He said you were Darquesse.”
Valkyrie took a breath. “He wasn’t lying.”
“But … but then what—?”
Valkyrie half smiled. “Funny. I’ve just had this conversation with Melancholia.”
“Melancholia … The
blonde Necromancer? Annoying?”
“Who later became the Death Bringer,” Valkyrie said. “Darquesse was my true name, but I couldn’t handle the power. It took on a life of its own, a personality of its own. Now it has a body of its own – my reflection.”
“You’re … You’re the one all the Sensitives had the nightmares about?”
“I was. Now she is.”
“And Sanguine said I worked for her? For Darquesse?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Valkyrie. “The Remnant in you glimpsed the apocalypse that Darquesse would bring about. You’ve been helping her.”
“And Sanguine was my partner?”
“Is that what he said?”
“He said we even had our own gang at one stage.”
“Yes you did – though partners may be stretching it a bit. He did what you told him.”
“Well, that’s something,” Tanith said. “At least I didn’t let my standards slip too much.”
Valkyrie adjusted her position. “And he didn’t say anything else?”
“Sanguine? No. Were you hoping for something in particular?”
“No,” said Valkyrie. “Never mind. It’s really good to have you back. I’ve missed you.”
“And I’ve missed a lot. Care to fill me in over some food? I’m starving.”
“Yeah,” said Valkyrie. “Yeah, of course. Come on.”
They walked. Valkyrie was hiding something, but Tanith didn’t press it. It was bad news. Whatever it was, it was bad news.
Before they got to the food, Valkyrie’s phone rang. She listened for a moment, her eyes widening. Then she hung up. “Come on,” she said, and took off at a run. Tanith ran alongside her.
They got to a large room filled with thin, mirrored pillars. The perfect place to find someone like China Sorrows. Tanith hung back by the door while Valkyrie ran in, joining China and Skulduggery and a thin, dishevelled man.
“What happened?” Valkyrie asked. “Where’s Ravel? Where’s everyone else?”
“Mr Signate was about to tell us,” China said, turning her gaze on the dishevelled man. “Please continue. You were saying that our plan worked …?”
Signate nodded. “It did. It worked. I mean, first things first. Shunting Ravel to another dimension did break the link to Darquesse, like you thought it would. The pain went away instantly. The look of relief on his face was just … anyway. So, we arrived. It was quiet. The room we’d shunted into was unsuitable for spending any length of time in, so we set up camp on the surface. Ravel was in shackles. We established a perimeter and I’d turned in for the night.”
