by Derek Landy
“We are the people you have left behind,” his wife said. “We are the people you have let die. We are the people who have died around you. We are the people you have killed.”
More figures, thickening the crowd. Fletcher saw Mr Bliss, and Kenspeckle Grouse, and the assassin Tesseract, and the Necromancer Craven. He searched the faces, eyes flickering from one blurred visage to the next, until he found her. She turned in that instant, as if looking back at him. Stephanie.
Fletcher grabbed Wreath’s arm. “Is it real? Is it really them?”
“I don’t know,” Wreath said, disentangling himself without taking his eyes off the scene below. “I don’t know how the Necropolis operates. I don’t know what they’re capable of.”
“But it’s a trick,” said Fletcher. “They’re drawing all these memories from Skulduggery’s mind or something, right?”
“Skulduggery Pleasant does not have a mind that can be read,” said Wreath. “But it may still be a trick. Some kind of subterfuge. Or …”
“Or what?”
“Or it could really be them, plucked from the Great Stream of life and death. Like fish.”
One of the figures, the ghosts, reached for Skulduggery, snagging his sleeve.
He yanked his arm back. “What do you want?”
“You belong here,” said Ghastly.
“Stay with us,” said Skulduggery’s wife.
A hole was opening in the ground, widening till it filled the narrow street. Some of the figures slipped down into it without alarm. Others saw it, and willingly let themselves fall.
Skulduggery looked back at the Validator. “How is this part of the test? What does this prove? People I’ve known have died? I’ve lived for over four hundred years. A lot of people die in four hundred years.”
“These are your dead,” said the Validator.
“Did you bring them here? What gives you the right to hold them in this place?”
“We’re not just here,” said Ghastly, “we’re everywhere. At all times. We’re with you when you are a boy. We’re with you on your wedding day. The day you die. The day you die again. We see you laughing, and screaming. We see you whole and we see you broken. We see you when the worlds collide and when the darkness falls. We see you surrounded by blood, and fire, and rotting flesh.”
“You see my future,” Skulduggery said, “so you know I have one. I don’t go with you today, Ghastly. But if you want to help me, if you really want to help me, you can tell me how to beat Darquesse.”
“She can’t be beaten,” said Shudder.
“I don’t believe that.”
“It does not matter what you believe,” his wife said.
Her hand closed round his arm, and Ghastly seized his hand. Skulduggery tried pulling back, but now Shudder was gripping him, and someone else, and then another, and they were pulling him towards the hole, and they were losing their faces, their forms merging into one blurred mass that was sinking beneath the surface. Skulduggery cursed and twisted, but could do little as more hands emerged to grab hold. One pulled at his ankle and he went down, and they dragged him, kept dragging him, and he lost his hat and now it was just him, clinging on while dozens of hands reached for him, gripped him, and all of a sudden he slid under and the hole closed up.
Skulduggery was gone.
Fletcher stared. “What … what does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” said Wreath. He sounded genuinely stunned.
“Is he OK?” Fletcher asked. “Where is he?”
Wreath shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure what just happened.”
Fletcher watched the Validator step forward, looking down at Skulduggery’s hat. He reached down to pick it up but froze.
The hole opened and Skulduggery lunged upwards, his jacket torn, his tie wrenched to one side. An unholy chorus of anguished cries followed him, and all at once there were a hundred hands reaching up from the darkness. Skulduggery rolled, got to his feet so he was standing beside the Validator.
“So this test is about facing your personal demons or something?” he asked. “Well, how about you face them instead?”
And he pushed the Validator, and the Validator toppled and the hands grabbed him and he vanished into the hole.
The hole closed up once again, and silence descended.
Skulduggery fixed his tie and buttoned his jacket, then he picked up his hat, dusted it off, put it on.
66
TABLE MANNERS
ventually, Valkyrie stopped hiding.
The Remnants knew they were there. Of course they knew. They couldn’t not know. So with her parents behind her, Valkyrie walked to the town square, where all the people were. Black lips. Black veins. They stood silently, watching her. Hundreds of them. Above their heads, more Remnants flitted. Thousands. But they didn’t swoop. They didn’t attack.
The crowd parted. Valkyrie and her parents walked right through. The path led to a restaurant. The door was held open by Dai Maybury. He didn’t say anything as they passed him.
Vex sat at a table in the corner, cutting into a bloody steak. The strap of the Sceptre bag crossed his chest. On the table beside him, within easy arm’s reach, was Alice, sleeping in her car seat.
Valkyrie’s parents started forward immediately, but Vex glanced up, black veins rising beneath his skin, and they froze. The veins faded, and Vex went back to his dinner. He speared a ragged bit of steak with his fork, popped it into his mouth, and chewed with his eyes closed.
“I was a vegetarian once,” he said, “for about two years, back in the late sixties. I’d met this girl, Sally, who you’d probably—”
“Give us Alice back,” Valkyrie said.
Vex opened his eyes. “Let me finish,” he said. He took a sip of wine, put the glass down, and continued.
“So, Sally – she was a nice girl, what you’d probably call a hippy. This was in San Francisco during the Vietnam War – and I went on peace marches with her and I grew my hair and I thought, this might be it. She got me into eating rice and lentils and green beans and for a while, hey, life was good. But we went to the airport this one time, to pick up some friends of hers flying in from New York, and there was this GI walking past, this soldier back from the war in his army greens with his bag over his shoulder, searching the crowd for his wife or his girlfriend or his folks … and Sally doesn’t even think, she doesn’t even hesitate, she just spits on him. Spits on him and calls him a baby-killer.
“Now let’s be clear, I did not agree with what the Americans did in Vietnam, but even if you object to the war, you respect the warrior. That’s always been my feeling on the subject. So I cut my hair, and two days later I was in the Congo, tracking down the head of a death cult. You don’t stay vegetarian for very long when you’re hiking through the jungle.”
He chewed another piece of steak, savoured it, and swallowed.
Valkyrie looked him dead in the eye. “What do you want?”
“Well, that’s the thing, you see. I am a mess of conflicting desires. The man in me wants to help you. The Remnant in me wants to tear you apart. But the two together simply want a compromise.”
“Give Alice back and we’ll compromise,” Valkyrie’s dad said.
Vex held up a finger to silence him. “Hush now, Desmond, the adults are talking. When we first heard about the glimpse into the future, where Darquesse would decimate the world, we were positively giddy with delight. That’s the world for us, we said. What we’d like, what we’d really love, is a future with, maybe, a tenth of the world’s current population left alive. Enough for us to play with, but not enough to cause us any problems.”
“Darquesse is not going to leave anyone alive,” said Valkyrie.
“Exactly,” said Vex. “When we started to realise the full extent of her plans, our giddiness faded. Only Foe and his crazy bunch of nihilists would find Darquesse’s ultimate aim attractive, because not only do they want to die, but they want the world to die with them. And, to be honest, we
also saw how she treats Remnants when they’ve served their purpose. Let’s just say that they hold no special place in her heart.”
“So now you’re scared of her.”
Vex smiled. “The same as everybody else.”
“So I’ll ask again. What do you want?”
“We wish to offer you our support. Sorcerers and Remnants, working together in perfect harmony. Can you think of anything more beautiful?”
“Problem is, Remnants can’t be trusted.”
“Normally I’d agree with you,” said Vex. “In fact, even now I agree with you. But we promise to be good.”
“How exactly do you see this working? Are you going to join our army? So you’ll either possess hundreds of sorcerers or thousands of mortals? Do you really think anyone would agree to that?”
“Do you really think you can pass up this opportunity?” Vex asked. “As you say, there are thousands of us, each with a vast personal collection of knowledge and talents just waiting to be shared.”
Valkyrie pulled up a chair, and sat. “If your accumulated wisdom is so great, then how come you haven’t figured out a way to stop Darquesse without our help?”
Vex smiled at her. “Darquesse is tricky.”
“There’s no way China will agree to this. But if you let us leave with Alice, I’ll do my best to convince her.”
“Why are you so worried about the baby?” Vex asked. “Look at her. She’s fine. She cried a bit earlier, but I changed her nappy, fed her, and she went right back to sleep.”
“Then I’ll stay,” said Valkyrie. “Let my parents take her and you can keep me.”
“That won’t do, I’m afraid. I’ll need Alice if I want to activate the Sceptre.”
“What do you mean?” Valkyrie’s mum asked, and Valkyrie went pale.
But Vex looked at her mum, and instead of opting for the cruel option, instead of explaining that Alice would have to die, he simply said, “For reasons too complicated to go into, your baby is the only one who can charge a very powerful weapon. I need her close to me if I have to use it.” Then he looked back at Valkyrie. “Do we have an understanding?”
The truth would damage her parents. It wouldn’t just shock them, wouldn’t just horrify them, it would actually damage their ability to move forward. To be useful. If they were insisting on accompanying her, Valkyrie needed them to at least be able to function. Which meant the full truth would have to be kept from them.
“Just you,” she said at last. “Your friends can stay here. I’ll take you into Roarhaven and ask China to hear you out. That’s the best I can do.”
“I reluctantly agree to your conditions,” Vex said, smiling, and Valkyrie knew this was what he had wanted all along. He dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, and stood. “Shall we leave? I assume your parents will be coming with us?”
“We’re not letting Alice out of our sight,” Valkyrie’s mum said.
“That’s the spirit.” He picked up Alice’s seat and went to carry it past Valkyrie, but she blocked his way, and looked over her shoulder at her parents.
“Can you give us a second?” she asked. “Please?”
Her mum frowned at her, concerned, but allowed Valkyrie’s dad to move her back a few steps.
Valkyrie turned back to Vex and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Doctor Nye had a warehouse,” she said. “You go in there, you’re dead. Living bodies die, but they’re still … aware. They can still move and think. Let me take Alice in. She’ll be dead, technically she’ll be dead, and you can take ownership of the Sceptre and then I take Alice back outside and she’ll be alive again. I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to expose Alice to that horrible, cold feeling, I don’t want her to experience that, but if it’ll make you let her go …”
“Nye’s warehouse was raided,” Vex answered softly. “All enchantments, such as they were, have been dismantled. It’s just an ordinary building now.”
“Then the coach,” said Valkyrie. “The coach the banshee calls, with the headless driver—”
“The Dullahan doesn’t do favours, Valkyrie. If he takes your sister, you’ll never get her back.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Besides, as long as I have her, you’ll do exactly as I say. Because if you try anything, I’ll kill her without a second thought.”
He moved by her, exposing his back, leaving himself open and vulnerable, daring her to test his resolve.
But Valkyrie sagged, and simply followed Vex and her parents outside, where the crowd of black-veined people parted to reveal a sky-blue minivan.
“Behold our battle wagon,” Vex said as the side door slid open. There were two rows of seats, plus the two seats up front. Vex climbed into the very back, clicking Alice’s seat into place beside him. “Melissa,” he said, “you can sit in the middle there, and Desmond, you drive. Valkyrie can sit up front with you. She knows where we’re going. If anyone needs to pee before we leave, you better go now. We’ve got an hour’s drive ahead of us and we won’t be stopping.”
67
LIGHTNING
hey drove to Roarhaven.
Valkyrie was all out of leaves and the pain from her broken hand was making her sweat. She wiped her forehead and looked back. In the rear of the minivan, Vex sat with his head down. It was too dark to see his eyes, but his breathing was regular. She was sure he was sleeping. Even so, she didn’t make a move. She’d been around the Dead Men enough by now to know that they never sank into deep sleep. If she tried anything, he’d be wide awake, fully alert and back in control in an instant.
She glanced at her mum, making sure she wasn’t about to do anything desperate, but for once her mum’s attention wasn’t on Alice. She was frowning, looking out of the window.
“Mum?” Valkyrie said softly.
Her mum’s frown deepened. “Do you hear something?”
Valkyrie peered out into the darkness, where the black shapes of trees and hedgerows blurred and melted together. She listened to the minivan’s engine, to the rock and roll of the tyres over the poorly maintained road, to the sound of the heater blasting out warm air … and behind all that, what? What was that? Another engine?
“I see something,” her dad said, his eyes on the rear-view mirror. “I think there’s someone—”
Headlights flicked on, singular beams that cut through the gloom on either side of the minivan. There was a loud bang, like a gunshot or a small explosion, and the minivan wobbled violently. Her dad cursed, but Vex’s eyes were open and calm.
“Everyone hold on,” Valkyrie’s dad said, and Valkyrie braced herself right before he braked. The minivan skidded to a shuddering, juddering halt, and two motorbikes sped into the yellow glare of his headlights and rode onwards, vanishing into the dark.
“Alice,” Melissa Edgley said, starting to scramble into the rear seats as her husband flicked on the interior light.
“She’s fine,” said Vex, holding up his hand to block her way. It glowed briefly, but it was enough to make Valkyrie’s mum freeze.
“Put your hand down,” Valkyrie’s dad said. “Melissa, stay where you are. Mr Vex, do not threaten my wife. Put your hand down.”
Vex gave a little smile, and lowered his hand.
“Who was that?” Valkyrie’s dad asked. “Steph, did you know those people? They blew out a tyre or something.”
It was Vex who answered. “A man named Vincent Foe and his gang ride motorcycles, Desmond, and they happen to be working with Darquesse.”
“You think she’s here?” Valkyrie asked.
“No,” said Vex. “She sends Foe out to do the little jobs she can’t be bothered with. The only people out there are Foe and Samuel.”
“We can take them,” Valkyrie said, without much conviction.
“I’m sure you can.”
She frowned. “You’re not coming? I don’t have my magic back yet.”
“You’ll be fine,” said Vex.
“You have to go with her,” Valkyrie’s mum said. “She can’t go out
there alone.”
“She’s got her stick, hasn’t she? She won’t need me. Besides, I’m babysitting. Hurry now, Valkyrie. We don’t want Alice waking up.”
She could have argued, but she knew it’d be a waste of time. She unbuckled her seatbelt.
“I’m coming with you,” her dad said.
“You can’t,” Valkyrie responded. “I may not be able to do magic, but my clothes are armoured. Yours aren’t. Everyone stay here. I’ll see if I can talk our way out.”
She got out, closing the door behind her. The road was narrow, with trees on either side. Quiet. She stood in front of the minivan. Her shadow stretched before her, joining the darkness ahead.
The motorbikes were coming back. They stopped just out of reach of the minivan’s headlights, and the engines cut off. A moment later, Foe and Samuel stepped into view, and her heartbeat quickened once more. Samuel was sweating. His hands were clenched. He was coming down off his serum. He was a hair’s breadth away from turning.
“If things had gone differently,” said Foe, “we’d just take the Sceptre. That’s all we want, after all. Anyone else who wants the Sceptre also wants your sister so they can kill her and take control of it. But we have no intention of taking control of it. Darquesse doesn’t want to use it. She just doesn’t want anyone else to use it. So, as I said, if things had gone differently, we would have asked for the Sceptre, and ridden off into the night. But things didn’t go differently. Things went exactly as they went.”
Samuel walked to the edge of the light, and vanished into the darkness.
“Obloquy is dead,” Foe continued. “That’s not your fault. Darquesse did that, and Obloquy was fine with it. But Mercy … Mercy was killed to protect you. And I have to say, I have to say it, I kind of had a soft spot for Mercy. Call me an old romantic if you want, but I had dreams of dying with her. There’d be blood and screaming and fire and pain, and we’d be there … together.”
Foe passed into Valkyrie’s shadow, and was lost to sight.
“But I can’t have that now,” he said. “Because of you. And so, even though we’re just here for the Sceptre, and we have strict orders not to kill you, we’re going to anyway. We’re going to kill everyone with you, too. We’re going to kill your family. Your mammy and your daddy and your little baby sister. We’re going to beat you to a pulp, we’re going to make you scream and cry and beg, and we’re going to kill them in front of you. Then we’ll take the Sceptre and throw it in a ditch somewhere.” He emerged into the light. “That sound good to you?”
