The Dying of the Light

by Derek Landy

  “Your magic is, indeed, gone. When your true name was taken from you, all your magic went with it. But my tests did pick up something. And that something led to a thought, and the thought to an idea, to a theory, and lastly to a hypothesis. Our true names act as our link to the source of all magic, this we know, and every sentient being has such a name. In theory.”

  “Only in theory?”

  “Magic is too vast a subject to be mastered. We view magic one way, from one perspective. Who are we to say that ours is the only perspective? Warlocks and witches are virtually extinct thanks to Mevolent’s purges a hundred years ago, but they didn’t follow our rules and yet they had access to the source, and their access was arguably purer than our own. There could be a thousand different aspects to magic that we don’t know about, that are invisible to us, that we will never know about.”

  “And what does this have to do with me?”

  “You do not have a true name, and yet there is, as I have said, something. Or rather, the complete lack of something. Which is, in itself, rather something.”

  “I know you’re trying to dumb it down for me, but I think you’ve gone a smidge too far.”

  “My tests show nothing,” Nye said impatiently. “Absolutely no trace of magic within you. Zero. Even in the most mundane mortal, there’s a sliver of a trace. Not enough to ever activate or ever affect anything or be affected, but a sliver nonetheless. But within you, there is nothing.”

  “So Darquesse took everything with her.”

  “Yes. But that’s not important. The complete lack of magic may not necessarily indicate that there’s no magic within you. It may instead indicate that there’s something blocking you from magic.”

  “But since I don’t have a true name—”

  “Then you’re an empty vessel,” said Nye. Almost excitedly. “You are something unique. Something I’ve never seen before. And, like any empty vessel, you’re just waiting to be filled.”

  “So how do I get … filled?”

  “I do not know. As I said, all this is conjecture. I will know more after the autopsy.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Valkyrie. “The what?”

  “I’ve done all I can with your living body,” said Nye. “Once I’ve dissected you, I’ll know more.”

  “I won’t be much use to you dead.”

  “That’s what every living person says. They’re always wrong.”

  “But there have to be more tests you—”

  “This is why I do not like conversing with specimens on my table,” said Nye, interrupting her. “Arguments. Discussions. Appeals to my humanity. I am a Crengarrion. I am not human. I will now cut you up into little pieces that I will weigh and catalogue. You only interest me from this point on as a collection of body parts.”

  “What about the soul?” Valkyrie asked. “The Nye in my reality was always looking for the soul. Don’t you want to do that?”

  Nye leaned over her. “The soul? I found where the soul resides four years ago. Rest assured, I’ll be dissecting that also.”

  Civet came back in. He walked stiffly. He looked terrified. “Professor …”

  Nye turned to him. “Yes? What is it? What do you—?”

  Civet was shoved sideways into the wall, and a silenced pistol gripped by a red hand was aimed straight into Nye’s startled face.

  Nye raised its hands. “Wh-what is this?”

  “What does it look like, you ridiculous creature?” Nefarian Serpine asked. “It’s a damn rescue.”

  54

  THE DEAL

  n Valkyrie’s reality, Emmett Peregrine was a Teleporter who had been dead for years, killed by the Diablerie. In this reality, he was alive and well and waiting for them in the corridor outside Nye’s laboratory. With her stick in one hand, Valkyrie grabbed his arm and Serpine took hold of the other, and suddenly they were outside.

  Valkyrie stepped away from them both. They were in a small village. People hurried by. She could hear the sea. She could smell fish on the evening air.

  Peregrine disappeared, and Serpine turned to Valkyrie and smiled. “Hello, Valkyrie.”

  “What do you want?”

  “That’s all the thanks I get?” he said. “I just saved your life. A little gratitude would be nice.”

  “What do you want?”

  Serpine didn’t seem overly wary of the stick in her hand at all. “Valkyrie, this may come as a shock to you, considering the history you’ve shared with both me and my counterpart from your dimension, but I’m not altogether a bad guy. I have my good moments. I have my redeeming features. In the time since you were last here, I’ve taken over as leader of the Resistance. Are you shocked?”

  “I don’t care enough to be shocked.”

  “Not caring is a sign of shock. After China Sorrows was so tragically killed during Mevolent’s attack on Resistance territory, I put myself forward for—”

  “You killed her.”

  “Eh?”

  “You killed China. You broke her neck.”

  Serpine frowned. “You saw that?”

  “Darquesse did,” said Valkyrie. “Which means I did.”

  “Ah,” said Serpine, “well, it was a chaotic day. Lots of people did lots of things. It was very confusing. Who knows who did what?”

  “I know you killed China.”

  “Let’s not get bogged down in specifics,” he said, speaking quietly. “Yes, I killed China, but in a more general sense, China was killed and I was nearby. That’s just a lot softer to say, isn’t it? It isn’t nearly as spiky as I killed her. So let’s stick with China was killed, and I was nearby, and let’s not tell anyone the rest. It’d just complicate matters – for you, as well as me. And now here I am, striking a blow against tyranny by releasing you, Valkyrie Cain. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am in need of you. Come. Walk with me.”

  “No,” said Valkyrie.

  He sighed. “You’re stubborn. Some people might find that admirable. I find it annoying.”

  Valkyrie looked around. “Are all these people sorcerers?”

  “Hmm? Oh, no.” He chuckled. “Not at all. Look at them. What a sorry state we’d be in if they were.”

  “So this is a mortal village?”

  “Yes. It’s the perfect hiding spot. There’s enough depressing mundanity here to frighten off even the most ardent of Sense-Wardens before they get too close.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous?”

  “We can handle it.”

  “Not for you,” she said, glaring. “For them. The mortals. If Mevolent finds out your base is here, all these innocent people will be caught in the crossfire.”

  Serpine nodded. “So?”

  “So these are the people you’re supposed to be protecting.”

  “Who told you that? It’s not our job to protect them. Our job is to fight Mevolent.”

  “And if you beat him?”

  “When we beat him.”

  “What then? Are you going to rule over these people just like he did?”

  “Of course,” said Serpine. “What did you expect? You really think we’d let mortals run the world? Look at them. Watch them stumble and fumble. Gaze into their dull eyes. Can you see even the faintest glimmer of intelligence? Mortals are not fit to run their own lives, Valkyrie, let alone the world.”

  “If you give them a chance—”

  “They don’t want a chance. They need guidance. They need wisdom. The oldest mortal is still only a child compared to a sorcerer. Would you trust children to run your life?”

  “They’re not children.”

  “You haven’t had your Surge yet, have you? So you’re as young as you look, and as such you’ve probably still got sentimental attachments to a mortal family or friends … But you’ll learn. You just need a few more years. Please, would you come with me?”

  Valkyrie glowered, but she couldn’t just stand in one place until she thought of something better to do. They walked
up the road a little, to a tavern.

  “You are not buying me a drink,” she said.

  Serpine smiled. “I can be quite charming when I put my mind to it, you know. You might even find yourself liking me.”

  She didn’t even bother responding to that, and he laughed.

  They walked into the tavern. Immediately, the atmosphere was different. The people in here held themselves straighter than those outside. They were stronger. More alert.

  Sorcerers.

  A girl drifted over to them, pale, with a scar curling from the corner of her mouth.

  “Valkyrie,” said Serpine, “you remember Harmony, don’t you? Harmony is my … assistant.”

  “Valkyrie,” Harmony said. “A pleasure to see you again.”

  “Harmony used to tell me what to do,” Serpine continued. “She used to mock me. I think it’s fair to say she didn’t like me at all. Maybe she despised me as much as you do. Would that be fair, Harmony?”

  Harmony glared at him.

  Serpine smiled. “But that didn’t stop her falling for my charms. Oh, it was an illicit affair. Torrid, even. She hated me, yet was drawn to me. Very passionate.”

  “I really don’t need to hear this,” Valkyrie said.

  “And then the dearly departed China Sorrows ordered me to help you and your skeleton friend to sneak into the city, and Harmony feared she’d lost me. You feared that, didn’t you, Harmony? You thought I’d be killed. But I returned. And it was China who died so, so tragically. The Resistance was in tatters. It took someone special to draw them all together. There was only one man for the job. But then he died too, also tragically, and I was the only soul brave enough to replace him. After that, Harmony began looking at me with a newfound respect – nay, admiration.”

  Harmony set her jaw.

  “These people needed me, Valkyrie. They looked upon me as a saviour. It has been a lot of responsibility and I … I admit it, I’ve made mistakes. How many mistakes did I make, Harmony? Let’s count them, shall we? There was Flaring, and Shakra, Ashione and Kallista, Luciana and Rosella and Rapture, and—”

  “A lot of mistakes,” growled Harmony.

  “But finally I came to my senses,” said Serpine, “and we found our way back to each other. Now Harmony is in charge of holding my coat.” He shrugged out of it and held it out.

  Harmony’s lips tightened, but she took his coat and didn’t drop it as she walked away.

  Valkyrie had had enough. “Why did you get me out of there? What do you want with me?”

  Serpine motioned to a table, and they sat down. “That magic-sucking gun Mevolent used on your evil doppelgänger,” said Serpine. “He’s been working on it since the last time you were here. That’s what I want. You owe me that.”

  Valkyrie frowned. “I don’t owe you anything.”

  Serpine leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “I had the Sceptre in my grasp – my only means of defeating Mevolent and his psychotic, shadowy lapdog. But Darquesse took it back with her into your reality. So now you owe me one unstoppable weapon.”

  “How am I meant to get it?”

  “I have a plan.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have any magic any more.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I’m not going into details, but my magic was taken from me. It’s gone. I can’t help you.”

  “Someone took your magic? With a weapon like Mevolent’s, or—?”

  “No. It was something else.”

  “That’s … awful,” Serpine said. “No wonder you were defending mortals. You are one. Oh, that must be soul-destroying. You poor, pathetic thing …”

  “Whatever,” snapped Valkyrie. “So I can’t help you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You don’t need any magic. You just have to do what I say and try to be convincing.”

  “Convincing as what?”

  Serpine’s smile reappeared. “As Darquesse, of course.”

  “What?”

  “I want that gun. The only way Mevolent will bring it out in public is if Darquesse shows up again. From what I’ve heard, though, it looks like she’s run off back to your dimension with her tail between her legs. But has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like her?”

  “How do you expect that to work?” asked Valkyrie. “He’ll know it’s me when he attacks and I die horribly and don’t get up again.”

  Serpine shrugged. “We’ll just have to make sure you don’t die, then.”

  “I’m very eager to hear how ‘we’ll’ manage that.”

  “We have recently come into possession of an extremely rare artefact.” He took a cloaking sphere from his pocket. “Do you know what this does? It envelops the wielder in a bubble of invisibility. Quite an ingenious—”

  “I know what it is. You want me to take the sphere into battle against Mevolent?”

  “You won’t be using it,” Serpine said. “My Teleporter will. This is far too rare an item to entrust to someone who who might take it back to her own dimension. Peregrine will be right beside you every step of the way – invisible. Mevolent will use the gun, we’ll let it hit you, and then Peregrine will teleport you a few steps forward or back. To Mevolent, it will look like Darquesse has found a way to overcome the effects of the weapon. When he abandons his broken toy to take you on with his bare hands, and he will, Peregrine will scoop it up and teleport it, and you, back to us. Questions?”

  “What about Skulduggery?”

  “If you agree to do this, Pleasant and Ravel will be waiting for you when you return.”

  “You’re going to break them out?” asked Valkyrie.

  “Naturally.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m hurt. Unsurprised, but hurt. The fact is, I would have gladly lied to you about rescuing them, but I knew how you’d be, so I actually have a solid rescue plan ready to swing into action. Tomorrow morning, everyone will be distracted by your heroic confrontation with Mevolent, which will allow a team of my best people to break into the dungeons. I can show you the plan, you can meet the team, you can satisfy yourself that they, at least, are honourable people. So long as you say yes right now.”

  “If you try to cheat me—”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Serpine said, extending his hand. “Well? Do we have a deal?”

  Valkyrie hesitated, but not for long. Every moment wasted was another moment of pain for Skulduggery.

  She grasped Serpine’s hand, and shook.

  55

  THE EXILED

  hina came from a meeting with Melancholia St Clair and Solomon Wreath, and instructed her pretty little assistant to run a bath. Melancholia had been polite in the presence of authority, but Wreath had been his usual aggravating self. If she hadn’t needed him to make Melancholia feel more at home in the Sanctuary, she would have arranged to have him escorted from the city gates days ago.

  She undressed while she waited for her bath to be ready, and looked at herself in the bedroom mirror. Her head ached. Meetings, conflicts, anxieties, disruptions, expectations and responsibilities. These were the things that made up her life now. She had a troubled frown on her face. There was a small, invisible sigil by her left eye. Her fingertip grazed it lightly, and it glowed, and a feeling of slow warmth spread through her, cancelling out the ache and returning her forehead to its usual frown-free perfection.

  Her pretty little assistant stood at the entrance to the bathroom. China removed a delicate bracelet and her necklace, placing them carefully on the dresser. There was a knock on the door, and the frown reappeared.

  Her assistant rushed to fetch a bathrobe, but China strode across the room before she could find it and pulled the door open.

  Tipstaff faltered midway into the first word of whatever he’d intended to say. Behind him, seven people stood calmly.

  “Thank you, Tipstaff,” China said, curtly. “That will be all.”

  Tipstaff bowed, his face flushed, and removed himself from her presence, leavin
g the seven visitors standing there. China addressed the black-haired man with the single scar marring his beauty.

  “I don’t like vampires, Mr Dusk.”

  He inclined his head ever so slightly. “I am aware of that.”

  “And yet you have still brought six of them to my private chambers. It’s been a long day and it will be a long night. If Tipstaff brought you here, you have something of value to say, so out with it.”

  “We represent the Exiled,” Dusk said, “vampires who have broken the most sacred of our codes.”

  “You’ve all killed other vampires.”

  Again, an almost imperceptible nod. “Because of this we’ve been cast out. It’s not … easy, for a vampire to be alone. It’s not safe – for us, or anyone else.”

  China graced them with a smile. “If you’ve all come here to be put down, I’m sure I can accommodate you.”

  “Put down like animals, you mean? I’m going to credit you with the intelligence I know you possess, Grand Mage, and choose to believe that you don’t really think of us in those terms. You may not like our kind—”

  “I despise your kind,” China said. “So please, get to the point. I’m getting cold.”

  “We come to Roarhaven to request asylum.”

  “Request denied.”

  “You haven’t heard us out.”

  “Mr Dusk, a burgeoning city like Roarhaven cannot have vampires within its walls.”

  “You have sorcerers here who’ve done far worse than any vampire has ever managed,” Dusk said.

  “And yet I would still prefer all of them to call round for afternoon tea instead of even one of you.”

  “Provided we have serum,” said Dusk, “vampires can operate in a civilised society.”

  “The problem is nobody likes vampires, Mr Dusk. You unnerve people.”

  “Some people could do with a little unnerving.”

  Despite herself, China smiled again. “Indeed. But the answer remains no.”

  “But you still haven’t heard us out.”

  She sighed. “Very well. Make your case. But be quick – my bath is calling for me.”

  “We want housing,” said Dusk. “We want access to serum and we want the same rights as everyone else.”