The Dying of the Light

by Derek Landy

  “Are you sure you’re OK?” he asked when they entered the peace and quiet of the Old Sanctuary.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You’re bleeding internally.”

  “A little internal bleeding never hurt anyone.”

  “That’s not strictly true, though. Do you want me to carry you, or …?”

  She gave him a look. “Am I slowing you down? Is that what it is? Would you rather be walking faster?”

  “To be honest … yes.”

  “Well, tough.”

  They walked along in silence for a bit.

  “Congratulations on saving the world,” Skulduggery said. “Or helping to save it anyway. Being in the general vicinity. Cassandra and Finbar and the others actually saved it. But it was my plan, and you enabled it to happen, so … I think we’re all winners here, really.”

  “Yay us.”

  “You don’t sound overly delighted.”

  “Would you be? I didn’t help save the world, Skulduggery – I helped cancel out the threat I posed to it. Those people, the ones who attacked me, they had it right. I’m to blame for all this.”

  “You know it’s not as simple as that.”

  “Darquesse was part of me. That little fact is inescapable.” Valkyrie paused. “I notice you haven’t asked me yet how I could suddenly use the Sceptre.”

  “No I haven’t. And I won’t. We’re called on to do things, again and again, that a person should never be asked to do. But we find a way, Valkyrie. And your family is safe and Darquesse is gone. It looks like we’re going to have a happy ending on this one.”

  She grunted. “Since when do we ever get a happy ending?”

  “It’s rare,” he said, “but it’s possible.”

  They started down the steps.

  “You think she stands a chance against the Faceless Ones?” Valkyrie asked.

  “I don’t know. Part of the reality the Sensitives constructed was to convince her that she’d accumulated more power than she had. But she opened that portal. It probably took everything she had to do it, but that part was no illusion. And if she could do that … she might stand a chance against a Faceless One. Maybe even two.”

  “But not an entire race of them?”

  Skulduggery shook his head.

  “Then she’s gone,” said Valkyrie. “My bad mood is gone. Odd, I don’t feel any cheerier. I thought …”

  “Yes?”

  They got to the bottom of the steps, walked the cold corridor to the next set.

  “I thought Darquesse was my bad side,” she said. “But I did something so … so terrible …”

  Skulduggery looked at her. “Long life can be a curse. The longer you live, the greater the chance that you’re going to do things you regret. But long life is also a blessing – because you have a lot of time in which to set things right.”

  “And what if there is no setting it right?”

  His voice was soft. “Punishment is not the answer. Punishment is easy. It’s lazy. Redemption is hard. Redemption makes you work.”

  “You’ve been working for redemption for a while now. Are you any closer to it? Are you ready to pick up your family crest again?”

  He tilted her head to her. “You remember.”

  “That you wouldn’t carry the crest until you reckoned you were worthy of it? Yes, I remember. So are you ready to carry it now? How do you know when your redemption is complete?”

  “I’m hoping you just … know.”

  “The scientific method.”

  His jaws opened, he was about to say something, probably something like “Precisely”, but he didn’t. He stopped. China lay very still in the corridor ahead of them.

  Skulduggery sprinted to her. Valkyrie hobbled as fast she was able, reaching them just as China’s eyes fluttered open. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice a whisper. “Darquesse?”

  “It’s over,” Skulduggery said, her head in his hands.

  A slight smile. “Not yet.” Her blue eyes flickered behind them. “Ravel. Trouble.”

  She dipped into unconciousness, and Skulduggery left her there and stood. Valkyrie followed him into the Accelerator Room.

  The Accelerator itself was churning. The humming sound was coming from deep within its core. And it was getting louder.

  The Engineer stood looking at them. Ravel was slumped on the ground, his hands shackled behind his back. He was conscious but clearly dazed.

  “What happened?” Skulduggery said.

  “Erskine Ravel demanded that his power be boosted by the Accelerator,” the Engineer responded. “While I knew that the title of Grand Mage now rested with China Sorrows, I had never been given the specific instruction to disregard any orders from Mr Ravel.”

  Valkyrie glared. “So you said yes?”

  “I am a robot,” said the Engineer. “I obey my instructions to the letter. There is no room for personal interpretation.”

  “And did it work?” Skulduggery asked.

  “Yes. But when Mr Ravel stepped out he was somewhat disorientated. Upon her arrival, Grand Mage Sorrows engaged him in what was a quite spectacular physical confrontation, during which she was able to secure these shackles upon his person.”

  Valkyrie frowned at the Accelerator. “It’s overloading.”

  “I am afraid so,” said the Engineer. “I warned Mr Ravel that his usage would hasten the countdown towards its end. He chose to ignore me.”

  “So how long do we have?”

  “Twelve minutes, eleven seconds.”

  Valkyrie paled.

  The circular platform within the Accelerator, the dais, lit up.

  “One soul,” the Engineer said, “willingly given. The individual steps on to the dais. Death is instant. Their energy, what my creator called their soul, is then used to deactivate the Accelerator.”

  “Well, OK,” said Valkyrie. “OK, so there are loads of injured people upstairs. Loads of dying people. I’m sure we can get one of them to volunteer.”

  The Engineer held up one metal finger. “A clarification,” it said. “When the soul is used to deactivate the Accelerator, it is used in its entirety. If there is a heaven or an afterlife, it will not journey onwards. Its energy will not rejoin the Great Stream, if such a thing exists. The soul will be used up, here and now. Never to return.”

  “But …” Valkyrie said. “But … wait … Erskine, you did this, so this is your chance to—”

  Ravel looked up at them, and shook his head. “I’ve sacrificed enough,” he said. “You’re on your own.”

  She looked at Skulduggery. He tilted his head towards her.

  Valkyrie bolted for the dais, but he caught her, yanked her back, and she cried out and pushed against him and he hit her, hard, in the side, and she folded, gasping.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Tears in her eyes, and not just tears of pain.

  “Don’t you dare,” she gasped.

  “I have, unfortunately, little choice in the matter.” Skulduggery looked at the Engineer. “A soul, willingly given,” he said. “That’s it? That’s your entire brief?”

  “Correct,” said the Engineer.

  “No loopholes? No other way around it?”

  “None.”

  “A soul, willingly given. That’s what your creator programmed into you? Those words and no others? No stipulations? No qualifications? No exceptions?”

  “None.”

  Skulduggery looked down at Valkyrie. “You heard the robot.”

  She ignored the pain, forced herself to stand. “Please don’t do this. Let me go instead.”

  “Nonsense.”

  He went to turn away, but she grabbed his arm. “No! Listen to me! We can think of something else! We can figure it out!”

  “We don’t have time.”

  Valkyrie put herself in front of him, pressed both hands against his chest, felt his ribs. “For God’s sake,” she said, “please don’t do this. Skulduggery, please. I can’t lose you.”


  He tilted his head and, with a gloved finger, he brushed a tear from her cheek. “You’ll never lose me, Valkyrie.”

  “But I need you with me,” she said. “I’ve done awful things. I … Skulduggery, I killed Alice.”

  “Alice is alive.”

  “But I still killed her. It doesn’t matter what I did after that moment. I killed my own baby sister. What kind of person would do that?”

  “A person with no other choice.”

  “I need you here. Please. I’ve done terrible things. I hate … I hate myself. I have to go away. But I need someone to come back to. You can’t leave me alone.”

  “Valkyrie—”

  “Please don’t go. Skulduggery, I’m begging you.”

  “You’re really making quite a fuss over nothing.”

  She hit him, punched him right across the jaw, pain flashing through her fist, through her entire body. “You are not nothing, you bloody idiot! You changed my life! You made my life better! You made me better! What do you think I’m going to do when you’re gone? You think I’m going to be happy? I swear to Christ, if you go, I go.”

  “Well,” he said, “now you’re just being silly.”

  “You have nine minutes, fourteen seconds,” said the Engineer.

  “Nine minutes,” said Valkyrie. “Nine. We can think of something in nine minutes. We can find a volunteer in nine minutes. Please!”

  Skulduggery put his hands on her shoulders. “Valkyrie, trust me on this one thing, and step out of my way. I have to do this.”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

  “And I never will.”

  “You said we’d be together until the end.”

  He nodded. “Yes I did.”

  A face flowed up over his skull, an unremarkable face with unremarkable features. He leaned in, and softly kissed her cheek. The face flowed away. He hugged her, then peeled her arms from around his neck, took off his hat and put it on her head. He spent a moment angling it just right.

  “There,” he said. “Looks good on you.”

  She couldn’t speak as he stepped round her. He walked up to the Accelerator. The Engineer watched him impassively. Ravel looked away.

  “I love you,” Valkyrie blurted out.

  Skulduggery didn’t look back.

  107

  “Danny. Danny.”

  Danny opens his eyes. Someone is behind him, holding him, their arms round his legs, taking his weight.

  “Stephanie?” he mumbles.

  “May as well call me Valkyrie,” she says. “Can you lift your hands off the hook?”

  Danny makes the mistake of looking up. A river of stinging sweat flows into his eyes, blinding him. He grits his teeth, tries freeing himself.

  “Can’t move my arms,” he says.

  She releases him, and his full body weight hangs from his wrists again. He swings a little, enough to see her hurrying to the wheel on the wall when he cracks one eye open. Stephanie, or Valkyrie, dressed in black, sweating in the heat, but not looking overly concerned about it.

  “They’re waiting for you,” he says. Christ, he’s thirsty. His words feel thick and slow. “This is a trap.”

  “Yep,” she says, “bears all the hallmarks of one.” She abandons the wheel, comes back over. “What a place, eh? Bigger on the inside. Like the TARDIS. Look away.” She raises her hand. “This is going to be bright.”

  He closes his eyes but not all the way, and sees white lightning crackle from her fingertips. The lightning hits the chain and suddenly he’s swinging wildly. He looks up. The chain is scorched. He can see a clear fracture in one of the links.

  “Sorry,” Valkyrie says, reaching out to steady him. “Haven’t done this in a while. Another blast should—”

  A large shape bursts from the door and Danny shouts a warning, but he’s too late. Jeremiah swings a sledgehammer into Valkyrie’s ribs. The impact lifts her sideways.

  “Mr Gant!” Jeremiah screeches. “She’s here! She’s here!”

  Valkyrie tries to get up. She’s wheezing. Jeremiah doesn’t give her the chance. The hammer comes down, right between her shoulder blades. Valkyrie flattens out.

  “Mr Gant! I have her! I have her, Mr Gant!”

  He goes quiet all of a sudden, and assumes the look of a man to whom an idea has just occurred. He leans the sledgehammer against the wall, takes hold of the collar of Valkyrie’s jacket, and drags her from the room. Amazingly, Valkyrie is still half conscious, but she’s in no fit state to fight back. The last Danny sees of her are her boots.

  He starts swinging wildly, kicking out and twisting. The broken link bends a little. He torques, grunting with the effort.

  He stops when he hears footsteps. Moments later, Gant walks in with a smile on his face, a smile that dims when he realises Danny is the only person here.

  “Where are they?” he asks.

  Danny swings from side to side, but doesn’t answer. Gant fixes him with a stare. “She’s here. Your usefulness is at an end. Allow yourself a few minutes more of life and tell me where they went.”

  “Jeremiah took her,” says Danny. “Through there.”

  A troubling frown crosses Gant’s face, and he strides from the hut.

  Danny kicks his legs up in front, then swoops them behind. He starts swinging forward and back. With every swing, he kicks higher. The chain creaks. Kick in front, swoop behind. Kick and swoop. Higher and higher. He looks up as he swings. The broken link widens its jaws.

  Kick and swoop. His shoulder is on fire. Kick and swoop. Kick and—

  The world tilts, suddenly and without warning. The broken link gives way and he’s crashing to the floor. He rolls over, gets to his knees, but he can’t wait for his burning muscles to soothe. Up he gets, feeling returning to his arms. His hands are still cuffed, but his fingers are tingling. He flexes them until he’s sure he can grip, and then he picks up the sledgehammer.

  He leaves the hut, limping only slightly, and steps on to a bridge suspended by chains. It sways under his weight, almost tips him into the sea of fire. He crosses, doing his best not to look down. He can still hear the screaming.

  Danny gets to the platform ahead and takes the metal steps down. He pauses to wipe the sweat from his eyes, then continues on to where the steps flatten and meet a grille floor. More stairways and bridges lead off it. He leans over the railing, glimpses Gant on the level below him. It takes a moment to figure out the best way down, but when he has it, he hurries after him.

  Hefting the hammer, he approaches a hut suspended entirely by chains. He can hear voices inside.

  “The audacity,” Gant is saying. “The sheer audacity of you. I’d almost be impressed if I wasn’t so disappointed.”

  Danny peers in. It’s a small room, with a heavy, bloodstained work table against the far wall. Valkyrie is on the ground, not moving. Gant is standing over her, his hands on his hips. Jeremiah stands with his back to the door, his shoulders slumped.

  “No,” Jeremiah is saying, “I was just getting her ready for you, I was just—”

  “I’ll tell you what you were just doing,” Gant snaps. “You were going to kill her. You were going to kill her and claim the credit all for yourself.”

  “Mr Gant, no, I would never do—”

  “And yet here you are, Jeremiah. Here you are in your fetid little cubbyhole with your grubby hands round her throat. Do you think this is how she would want to die? Do you think this is how anyone would want to die?”

  “No,” says Jeremiah meekly.

  “I thought you were better than this. I thought you respected me more.”

  “I’m – I’m sorry, Mr Gant. I was weak. I saw her, I put her down, I was going to give her over to you, I was. But … but Mr Gant, I haven’t killed anyone like this in a long time.”

  “I let you kill ordinary people. Isn’t that enough for you?”

  There’s a pause as Jeremiah hesitates. Danny wipes his hands on his trousers, and takes a grip on the
sledgehammer. It isn’t as wide as he’d like, because of the cuffs, but it’s a firm grip nonetheless.

  “What?” Gant says, irritated. “Out with it, for heaven’s sake.”

  “You said you’d let me kill the next one,” Jeremiah says quietly.

  “You’re not ready, Jeremiah.”

  “You always say that.” He’s almost whining now. “When will I be ready?”

  Gant adopts the tone of a disappointed parent. “I don’t know. Up until a few minutes ago, I would have said soon. Very, very soon. Maybe even today. I was so close to letting you do this one. But after this … after this, Jeremiah, I just don’t know any more.”

  “Mr Gant,” says Jeremiah, and he’s crying, “Mr Gant, I’m sorry.”

  Danny takes another peek.

  Gant is looking down at Valkyrie. “I need to know I can trust you, Jeremiah.”

  “You can,” says Jeremiah. “I promise you can.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  Gant turns away a little more and Danny sees his chance. He runs in, swinging. Jeremiah hears him and ducks under the sledgehammer, but all that does is clear a path right to Gant’s face.

  And it’s like he’s swung the hammer into a metal pillar.

  The shock of the impact wrenches the sledgehammer from Danny’s hands and he cries out and staggers back. The hammer clatters to the floor and Gant shoots Danny a smile.

  Jeremiah roars, charges, takes Danny off his feet. They go down, the big man’s weight on him. Danny barely has any fight left. Jeremiah brings out a knife from somewhere. Danny grabs Jeremiah’s wrist with both hands, but not fast enough to stop his arm from being nicked. They struggle with the blade. Gant doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even move.

  They roll across the floor, Danny finding reserves of strength he never knew he had. Gant doesn’t follow the fight. He’s just standing there, smiling and not moving.

  No, wait, he is moving. But very, very slowly.

  As he struggles with Jeremiah, Danny remembers the people in the gas station – the dead bodies stacked up in the backroom. How had Jeremiah found the time to do all that, unless …

  Gant said this house was magic. Danny doesn’t know about magic, but this place definitely defies reason. Valkyrie shot that weird light from her hands and Gant himself hadn’t even blinked just now when the sledgehammer hit him. OK, so if the house really is magic, and Gant and Valkyrie are magic, then maybe Jeremiah is, too. And by the looks of things his magic is the ability to draw out his kills while the world slows down around him. The perfect power for a serial killer.