The Dying of the Light

by Derek Landy

  57

  A WORLD OF PAIN

  alkyrie missed the long trek back to Roarhaven. That trek, as long as it was, was entirely replaced by never-ending pain.

  Skulduggery would later tell her that following the explosion, Lord Vile had shadow-walked away, injured. Serpine had picked up the two halves of the magic-sucker, examined them, cursed, and had Peregrine teleport him away. Skulduggery had then bound Valkyrie’s arms and legs so she would be easier to manage, and took her with him on his horse. Ravel went on ahead, his horse tethered to Skulduggery’s. It was slow-going, and they missed their rendezvous, but they made the one after that, and Signate shunted them into the circle that China had devised in the Sanctuary in their own dimension. They’d left Ravel in that circle, hidden from Darquesse.

  Valkyrie missed all that. All she saw were blurred faces and faraway voices. If she were lucky, unconsciousness would snatch her away from the pain for hours at a time.

  She wasn’t lucky very often.

  58

  VALKYRIE’S AFFLICTION

  isjointed. That’s how Tanith felt. Like nothing fitted right. Like she’d lost the rhythm of how her life was lived. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was stumbling. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her feet were suddenly leaden.

  She was dealing with a life interrupted, and she was lost and alone and she had no one to help guide her back. She hadn’t called her family. She wanted to leave that until she had a handle on where things were going. Which would be a nice change.

  Ghastly is dead.

  Those three words haunted her. They waited at the end of every thought. Sometimes they’d fade a little, allow her a distraction, a moment of engagement. But they never left her alone for long. They were persistent, those three little words.

  She took to exploring Roarhaven. She’d tried to help with preparing the city for Darquesse’s wrath, but she only got in the way. Saracen Rue was too busy to talk and while she’d read their books, she’d never been introduced to Donegan Bane or Gracious O’Callahan. Her Remnant-self knew them, apparently. It was funny. Her Remnant-self had had a better grip on her life than Tanith did.

  Mostly, she just hung around the Sanctuary and waited for Valkyrie to get back. She was there when they shunted in. Thank God. She’d even visited Ravel in his little circle. She used to fancy him. He was so smooth, so charming, so good-looking. And those eyes – those beautiful golden eyes. But now she hated him.

  Ghastly is dead.

  She needed to get out. She needed to get on her bike and ride.

  She left Roarhaven in a cloud of dust. She didn’t know where she was going. She got on to the motorway, joined the traffic, found herself taking a familiar exit.

  Oh. So that’s where she was going.

  She pulled up outside Valkyrie’s house. Knocked on the door.

  Melissa Edgley answered it. Desmond passed behind her, with little Alice scampering around after him.

  Tanith smiled. “Hi,” she said. “I’m—”

  “I know you,” Melissa said. She looked agitated. “You came to our house a few years ago after Christmas. You were Stephanie’s substitute teacher.”

  “Ah,” Tanith said. “Right. That actually wasn’t me – not really. And I don’t remember it, so I apologise for anything I may have said or done. I was possessed at the time by this horrible little thing that turned me evil for a few years. I just got rid of it, actually. Today is my first Saturday Remnant-free for over two years. My name is Tanith Low, and I suppose I was a teacher to your daughter, actually. I handled half of her fight training.”

  Melissa stared at her.

  “Valkyrie told me you found out about the whole magic thing. I, uh, I didn’t misunderstand or anything, did I?”

  “Where is she?” Melissa asked. “She hasn’t been answering our calls and we don’t know where she is. Is she all right?”

  “She’s in the Medical Wing in the Sanctuary. Basically, she’s in hospital. I thought you’d probably be worried about her, and it would never occur to Skulduggery to let you know these things.”

  Melissa went very pale. “Take us to her.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “She’s our daughter and you’d better—”

  “Melissa,” Tanith said, talking over her, “it isn’t a good idea to take you to see her because seeing her would distress you too much.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s in pain,” said Tanith. “A hideous amount of pain, if I’m honest. But it shouldn’t be too long now before it passes.”

  “What happened?”

  “It’s a long story, and full of aspects that you’d find confusing, so I’m going to stick to the simplest explanation, if that’s OK with you. Valkyrie and Skulduggery went away to do a job. While they were gone, she was caught in an explosion of sorts.”

  “An explosion?”

  “Of sorts. Physically, she’s fine, she’s uninjured, but she is in an incredible amount of pain. Our doctors didn’t know what to make of it at first, until they realised that it wasn’t nearly as complicated as they’d feared. In fact, Valkyrie is going through something that everyone there is very familiar with.”

  “What?” Melissa asked. “For God’s sake, what’s wrong with her?”

  “It’s a magic thing.”

  “But she’s not magic. She told us herself, she lost her magic.”

  “So she did,” said Tanith. “But the facts are the facts, and the fact is the explosion kick-started her Surge. What she’ll be when she emerges is anyone’s guess.”

  59

  THE CORPSE TRAIL

  he Cadillac slows, the high whine of asphalt replaced by the crunch of roadside gravel, and then there’s nothing. Apart from some residual ticking, even the engine is silent. Danny stops his teeth from chattering long enough to hear a few muffled words of conversation from up front. He doesn’t get all of it – he’s too cold and he has a pounding headache and he’s nauseous and he desperately needs to pee again – but he catches the gist of what they’re saying. They’re afraid they’ve lost Stephanie – or rather, they’re afraid that Stephanie has lost them.

  Jeremiah suggests they loop round, to see if they can pick her up again, but Gant is against the idea. He doesn’t want to make it obvious that they’re luring her in. They talk about this for a few minutes, with Jeremiah coming up with suggestions like an eager employee trying to impress his boss. Gant, for his part, grows increasingly irate, and Jeremiah eventually gets the message and stops suggesting stupid things.

  There’s movement, and then a door opens – only one – and someone gets out. Gant. His footsteps move along the side of the car, and stop somewhere close to Danny’s head.

  “I need to pee,” Danny calls.

  There’s the sharp bang of a fist on the trunk. “Shut up,” says Gant, and a moment later Danny hears an approaching car. He catches a brief sweep of headlights through the cracks of the trunk, and then the car slows. It isn’t Stephanie. Stephanie wouldn’t pull up to where Gant was standing. He hears a voice, a man’s voice, saying something, possibly offering to help in some way, and then he jumps as three gunshots ring out.

  Gant’s movements are unhurried as he gets back in the Cadillac. The engine fires up and they pull out on to the road and continue on.

  Danny doesn’t need to hear the conversation to know that that was a sign for Stephanie to follow.

  A half-hour later, he can’t hold it any longer. He unzips and pees into the carpet under the latch, the sense of relief momentarily overwhelming the bizarre sense of shame that threatens to engulf him. When he’s finished, he zips up and shuffles back as far as he can, his jacket held up over his nose and mouth. He tests the air every few minutes until he can’t smell anything rank, and begins to breathe normally again.

  They haven’t bothered tying him up after the gas station. They know he’s beaten. He knows he’s beaten. The acceptance is sudden and unexpected, but no les
s valid than the thought that follows after. He’s beaten now, at this particular moment in time. But once they let him out of this trunk? Once he’s got his strength back? Then he has a chance again.

  The Cadillac slows again and he wakes. It’s morning now. A thin line of warm sunlight falls across his face. He hears Gant say, “Excuse me,” very clearly, like he’s leaning out of an open window. Running footsteps approach. A woman’s voice. An early morning jogger.

  A thought surfaces in the murk of Danny’s mind. The man in the car. The gunshots. A trail of carnage for Stephanie to follow.

  “Run!” Danny screams. “Run! He’s going to kill you!”

  He hears the woman’s voice. Not the words, but the tone – confused, suddenly wary – and Gant, trying to be soothing, trying to coax her closer. Then there’s a scrape of rubber soles on the road, and the woman is running and Gant is cursing. Car doors open. A gun fires twice. More cursing.

  “Go!” Gant shouts, and Danny hears Jeremiah take off in pursuit.

  Gant gets back in the car and they leap forward, tyres spinning. The Cadillac swerves violently and Danny hits his head and jars his shoulder. The world rattles and bumps around him. They’re off the road now, on some kind of dirt track. Branches scrape against metal. Water splashes. Another turn, and another, and for a moment they’re going sideways and Danny is sure they’re going to crash, but somehow Gant gets the big car back under control and they straighten out, picking up even more speed.

  They take a long, wide turn, then brake, coming to a skidding, sliding stop, and the engine cuts out and the door opens and Danny hears the woman grunt. Something thuds heavily on to a crackling surface. Twigs. The ground is covered in twigs and old leaves and Gant and the woman are rolling around on it. The woman struggles fiercely. Gant curses. There’s a burst of snapping branches and trampled undergrowth and another thud, and Jeremiah’s heavy panting is added to the mix.

  “Let go of me!” the woman shouts. “Let go! Let—”

  There’s a gunshot.

  Danny lies in the darkness, listening to Jeremiah getting his breath back while Gant mutters to himself. After a minute, Jeremiah gets to his feet with great effort. He sighs a few more times, grunts, and Danny hears something being dragged, getting closer. It moves round the car to the trunk. A rattle of keys.

  The trunk opens and Danny shields his eyes. He hears Jeremiah’s cry of disgust as the smell hits him, and then Gant is saying something and Danny finally looks up.

  “No!” says Danny, but Jeremiah drops the woman’s body on top of him and slams the trunk shut.

  Danny screams, shrinking back from the tangle of limbs and long hair, trying to push the body away, but his hands are suddenly wet with something warm and sticky. There’s a new smell in the trunk now, the coppery smell of blood.

  “That’s what you get,” says Gant from outside. “That’s what you get.”

  Danny wants to scream and scream, but he locks it down, he keeps the screams clamped inside his chest, and he breathes fast and shallow. He can smell the woman’s coconut shampoo.

  Car doors close, and the engine starts, and the Cadillac reverses into a three-point turn and heads back the way it’s come at a gentle pace.

  When they get to the road, they stop, and Jeremiah comes round and opens the trunk again. His face is red from exertion. Dribbles of sweat run from his forehead. Glaring at Danny, he takes hold of the woman’s torso and hauls her out. He lets the body fall at his feet, and looks in at Danny, his nose wrinkled in disgust.

  Then he closes the trunk.

  60

  FREAKS

  inally, the pain went away.

  They ran a few more tests, then OK’d her release. She eased herself out of bed, her joints aching, and dressed slowly. She was zipping up her jacket when Skulduggery stopped by.

  “Clarabelle tells me I’ve had the Surge,” said Valkyrie.

  “We’ve all gone through it,” he responded. “It’s not nice, but it’s necessary. And at least you have magic again. How do you feel?”

  “Tired. Sore. But most of all … different. I can feel the magic inside me, but it’s not like it was. And I don’t feel the air like I used to. I don’t think I’m an Elemental any more.” Valkyrie clicked her fingers. No sparks flew.

  “They have a Nye over there,” she said, carrying on clicking. “It’s a professor. Still skulking around in the shadows. While you were being held by Mevolent, I was delivered into its delightful hands. After a few tests, it came up with a theory. When Darquesse was pulled out of me, I was left as an empty vessel. The Surge filled me back up but … with what?”

  “Magic.”

  She stopped clicking. “But what kind? Nye said there could be all these different kinds of magic that even sorcerers don’t know about.”

  “That’s true,” Skulduggery said. She joined him as he walked from the Medical Wing. “I’ve come across a few such examples. So have you, for that matter. The Jitter Girls. We have no explanation for them at all. We don’t know how or why they exist. They just do. I don’t know how you’re going to turn out. You don’t have a true name any more, Valkyrie. You’re not bound by our rules. The magic that’s within you right now has come directly from the so-called source, with no filtration.”

  “I could turn into a Jitter Girl?”

  “Unlikely. From what we do know of the Jitter Girls, some very specific circumstances led to their present condition. You’re probably closer to Warlocks and witches than you are to sorcerers right now. Put a smile on that face, Valkyrie. You’re unique. Easily as unique as I am.”

  “Two freaks in a pod, eh?”

  His head tilted, amused. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” They walked on through the glorious corridors. This one had flowers and plants growing from the walls in bursts of vibrant colour. “Fletcher’s back,” he said.

  “Is he OK?”

  Skulduggery hesitated. “Yes. I think. He apologised, said he just had to get away. I don’t think anyone holds it against him. How do you think he’ll cope with Darquesse?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His judgement. Will it be clouded?”

  “By anger, you mean? I don’t think so. Fletcher’s not really a revenge type of guy. He’ll do all he can to help, but he’s not going to do anything stupid. No more stupid than usual anyway.”

  “Good. We’ll be depending on him.”

  “He won’t let us down,” she said, and then smiled. “I’m really going to miss this, you know.”

  “Miss what?”

  “This.” Valkyrie waved at their surroundings. “Plans and missions and briefings. You and me. If we all die, I’m really going to miss this.”

  “If we all die,” Skulduggery said, “you’re not really going to miss much of anything. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And is there anything in particular that you’re going to miss?”

  “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

  “Well, I don’t know,” said Valkyrie, standing in his way to make him stop. “Maybe someone in particular? Maybe someone in particular who’s standing very close to you at this very moment in time?”

  “The plant?”

  “No, not the plant. I said someone.”

  “And it’s not the plant?”

  “I know who you’re going to miss most. It’s OK to admit it.”

  He stepped round her, and continued on. “That’s nice.”

  She caught up. “Seriously? After all this time, you’re not going to give me this little piece of honesty? After all we’ve meant to each other?”

  “You mean after all I’ve meant to you.”

  “I’ve meant just as much to you as you have to me.”

  “Debatable.”

  “Please just admit it,” said Valkyrie. “You’re going to miss me, aren’t you?”

  “Obviously,” said Skulduggery.

  “Thank you.”


  “Like a drowning man misses the land.”

  “Awww …”

  “Like a hesitant man misses the chance.”

  “Yeah …”

  “Like an oblivious man misses the point.”

  “I have a feeling you’re mocking me somehow, but I can’t put my finger on how.”

  They entered the Room of Prisms. China sat on her throne, sorting through a sheaf of papers. Saracen, Donegan and Gracious were talking with Fletcher and Tanith. To one side stood Solomon Wreath and Melancholia St Clair. To the other, Dusk.

  “Woah,” said Valkyrie.

  Dusk looked at her, the scar she had given him reflected in a thousand tiny mirrors. “I bear you no ill will,” he said.

  She blinked. “Right. OK.”

  Skulduggery looked up at China. “Reading anything interesting?”

  “Preliminary reports following our raid on the Church of the Faceless,” China said, putting down the papers. “Finding a lot of names mentioned – possible worshippers we never knew about. Gettamein, Verdant, even your new friend Keir Tanner, the prison warden.”

  “He liked me,” Skulduggery said. “I could tell.”

  China stood. “All right, then. Before we begin, I think we’re all glad to see Valkyrie back on her feet, and we appreciate Fletcher being here after what happened. Tanith has also rejoined us.”

  Tanith smiled. “It’s nice to be loved.”

  China ignored her. “First of all, what is our current situation as regards the Remnants?”

  “We’ve lost them,” Saracen said grimly. “Any chance we had of tracking them down vanished when they took Dexter.”

  “The moment they make trouble, though, we’ll know about it,” Donegan said. “So far, and this is both fortunate and worrying, there hasn’t been a peep.”

  China nodded. “Focus your efforts here. Darquesse is our only concern from this moment on. How are we on that front?”

  “Erskine Ravel is staying in the circle,” said Skulduggery. “Darquesse hasn’t smashed down the door, so I think we can assume it’s doing an adequate job of hiding him from her senses.”