by Derek Landy
“There is a sorcerer named Myosotis,” he said, “from Germany. You first met her a few months ago, and got along very well, I have to say. You both get quite annoying when you talk, but again, I’m used to that, too. Myosotis is, amongst other things, a spy. What makes her so very good at her job is the fact that once she moves out of sight, you forget all about her. The human mind can’t retain any information concerning Myosotis at all. We’ve actually had this conversation eleven times over the past few hours. You always have the same reaction.”
“Bull.”
“That’s the one.”
“You’re serious?”
“Quite serious.”
They emerged on the other side. Torches hung in rusted brackets on the walls, and they followed the flickering trail of light through the darkness.
“Her power doesn’t work on me because of my fabulous mind – and the fact that I have no physical brain,” Skulduggery continued. “And if she could turn her power off, I’m sure she would.”
“You’re sure who would?”
“Myosotis.”
Valkyrie frowned. “Who?”
“Ah,” Skulduggery said. “You’re forgetting about her already.”
“That’s amazing,” Valkyrie said. “Forgetting about who?”
“The spy, the girl who’s been taken captive.”
“Right,” Valkyrie said, “the rescue mission. Gotcha. Who has taken her?”
“The inhabitants of this place. It was once a prison of sorts, hundreds of years ago. Now it’s a refuge for sorcerers who can’t bear to live on the surface. The people down here are… damaged. Some are quite dangerous.”
“And what was…”
“Myosotis.”
“And what was Myosotis doing down here?”
“The Sanctuary in Berlin sent her over to investigate the disappearance of one of their own. He was last seen around these parts, so the natural assumption would be that he found his way down here. And disappeared.”
Valkyrie nodded. “And we’re here to rescue him.”
“No, we’re here to rescue Myosotis, the operative sent to rescue him. If we happen to rescue him along the way, it’s a bonus. But she is our main priority.”
“Who is?”
“Oh dear God,” Skulduggery muttered. “This is astonishingly aggravating.”
He froze and she stopped, splayed her hand, felt the air move against her skin, and then she heard something, a whisper from behind.
They spun, but there was a rush of dark figures and Skulduggery went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Someone hit Valkyrie and she stumbled, couldn’t do anything to stop the boot that smashed into her. She went back, rolling on the hard ground. Rough hands grabbed her, hauled her up. There was a crowd around Skulduggery, lashing in kicks, throwing down punches. Valkyrie’s arms twisted and she cried out, feeling them twist almost to the point of breaking.
The crowd stopped kicking Skulduggery. They stepped away, and through the gaps she saw him, on the ground and not moving. All eyes turned to her.
They were dirty. Filthy. Unshaven. They wore ragged clothes, worn thin. They were skinny, all of them. Sunken cheekbones, sunken eyes, eyes that glittered in reflected firelight.
“We’re not here to fight you,” Valkyrie said.
One of the men observed her for a moment before opening his mouth. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You come down, invade our home, and you expect us to just stand by and let you? You think we’re not ready to do battle? You think we’re weak?”
“No,” she said, “I don’t think that at all, but we’re not your enemy—”
“We’re not weak!” the man roared, and the others joined in. “We eat moss and mushrooms. We drink from stagnant pools. We survive.”
All around her, mutterings. “We survive,” over and over.
“We like new people,” the man said, and everyone laughed. “Yes, we do. Too bad for you.”
“Too bad,” said one of the men holding her.
“You’re tall,” said the leader. “We like tall. Your clothes might fit us. Some of us. Enchanted, are they? Protected? They’ll last. They’ll last forever. But you. Tall. Strong. Pretty. You won’t last as long.”
Skulduggery moaned, and someone kicked him.
“The skeleton detective,” said the leader, looking down at him. “We’ll take him apart. Use his bones as weapons. He won’t last, either. But we can’t eat him.” The leader looked back at her. “We can eat you.”
There was a woman holding Valkyrie’s left arm. Valkyrie pulled her in, smashed her forehead into the woman’s face. She yanked her right arm free, reached for the shadows, but the air rippled and she flew back. More hands grabbed her. Someone started to hit her and she turned her head, eyes closed, mouth tightly shut. They dropped her and she latched on to a leg as others kicked. She held that leg and didn’t let go, letting her clothes soak up most of the impacts. A bare foot came in, caught her on the side of the jaw and the strength left her arms. She collapsed, sounds growing dim, her vision darkening.
“She’ll do,” she heard the leader say. “We’ll divide her up. We get half. The Beast gets half.”
She heard someone laughing and she slipped downwards, away from it all, plummeting into unconsciousness.
They had managed to get a set of shackles to close tightly enough to secure Skulduggery’s hands to the frame of old wood and hardened root. He hung there, arms above his head, feet tied below, in the centre of what could be considered the village. Small huts of stone and rock emanated outwards from a large campfire. The frame on which Skulduggery hung was on one side of the fire. The frame on which Valkyrie hung was on the other.
The villagers milled around, talking amongst themselves. She watched them through one half-open eye, feigning unconsciousness. Her jaw ached and her head throbbed. Some of the villagers were talking about who should get which item of clothing. Others were talking about how best to cook her.
Even if her own power hadn’t been dimmed by the chain that bound her to the frame, she doubted she’d be able to do much. Everyone down here was a sorcerer of some description, be they Necromancer or some other Adept discipline. They couldn’t have snuck up on someone like Skulduggery if they weren’t using the air to hide their approach, so there had to be more than a few Elementals around, too.
A scuffle broke out amongst the villagers. There were curses and raised voices, and then a man broke through.
“Mine!” he roared. The crowd came after him and he spun, snarling, “She’s mine!”
The crowd parted and the leader came forward. “We share our food, Josef.”
Josef shook his head. “You’re not in charge any more, Owain. I am. I’m leader. I say she’s mine!”
“And what about the Beast?” Owain asked. “Do you cheat the Beast out of it’s meal, too?”
Josef hesitated. “Beast can eat,” he said at last. “After I have fed!”
Owain narrowed his eyes. “You would anger the Beast?”
Josef faltered. “I… I need to feed… and I will! I am leader!”
Owain signalled, and a man walked up and handed him a heavy wooden club. “Then we battle. Battle for leadership. Like the old ways.”
“Yes,” Josef said, “like the old ways. Where is my weapon?”
“Bring Josef his weapon,” Owain commanded. Another man moved through the crowd, and handed Josef a twig.
“Um…” Josef said.
Owain whacked the club into Josef’s head, and Josef sprawled on to the ground.
“Cook him first,” Owain said. “Save her for later.”
There were protests from the crowd.
“But Josef’s scrawny!” cried a woman. “Not enough to go around!”
Owain sighed. “Fine. Cook Josef,” he said, then nodded to Valkyrie, “and we give the Beast one of her legs. Tonight, the Beast eats well.”
The crowd cheered.
Over the next few hours, they chopped up Josef and slow-roast
ed him over the fire. Valkyrie did her best not to look.
A shadow moved between the stone huts, steadily sneaking towards her. She closed both eyes, slowed down her breathing…
“Hello.” Someone nudged her leg. “I know you’re awake. You can stop pretending.”
She thought about it for a moment, then opened her eyes and looked down at him. He was thin and filthy, with long matted hair and a wispy beard. He looked to be in his early twenties.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
He looked wild, dishevelled, but otherwise harmless. “Valkyrie,” she said. “Who are you?”
“I’m Baffle. How are you?”
“Not doing too well, to be honest.”
He nodded, grabbed the frame and clambered up until they were at eye level. He stank of bad breath and body odour.
“I don’t like eating people,” he said.
“Maybe you shouldn’t do it.”
“Can’t say no. It’d be a waste, wouldn’t it? We kill you and cook and serve you – you’d want us to eat you, wouldn’t you? Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“Baffle, I really don’t want to die. It’s not fair. I never did anything to hurt any of you.”
“Life isn’t fair.”
“You could help me.”
“I could?”
“Sure. You just said you don’t want to eat me, right? So you could help me, couldn’t you?”
“I… I suppose.”
“You’d have to be really sneaky about it.”
He nodded. “That’s true. If the others found out, they’d be very cross.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“If I do, will you be my friend?”
“Of course.”
“Then, yes,” he said, and smiled, “I’ll help you.” Then he threw his head back and started singing.
“Stop!” she hissed. “Shush!”
His eyes were closed, and he sang louder. It was ‘Be My Baby’, by The Ronettes. Her mum used to sing that to her all the time when she was a kid. She strained against the ropes.
“Hey! Shut up!”
Baffle stopped singing.
She glared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m… I’m helping.”
“How is that helping?”
“It’ll make you feel better. It might make you forget we’re going to eat you.”
“But you don’t want to eat me! You want to let me go!”
He looked horrified. “No, I don’t! Why would I do that?”
“Because we’re friends, Baffle.”
He shook his head. “I know friends. Friends don’t shout at each other. Friends sing to each other to take their minds off bad things that are going to happen.”
“Baffle!” someone shouted from inside a hut. “Are you singing to our dinner again?”
“No!” he called back.
“You better not be!”
“I’m not!”
He waited, but got no further response. Stifling a giggle, he turned back to Valkyrie. “Did I help?”
“Sure,” she said, totally deflated. “You did great. You know another way you could help me? We’re looking for someone. A girl. A woman. Her name is…” Valkyrie frowned. “OK, I’m not sure what her name is, but she’s got… she’s got… she’s got hair, I think, I imagine, though I don’t know what colour, but… I imagine she has hair. Or she might be bald. Or she might be a he. Do you remember anyone like that arriving down here in the last few days?”
Baffle shook his head. “No one’s been down for ages. Not since the man.”
“What man? Did he have an accent? Did he have a German accent?”
“Don’t know what that is. He talked funny, though.”
“What happened to him?”
“The Beast ate him.”
“Oh. Where is the Beast now?”
“Out there,” Baffle said, waving at the darkness. “Waiting. Watching. We feed it what we can. Sometimes, Owain says we must feed it our friends and families.” His voice turned sad. “The Beast ate my sister.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I was given a bit of her leg to cheer me up.”
“Right…”
There was a sound, like a growl, low and threatening, that echoed up to them.
Valkyrie raised an eyebrow at Baffle. “That’s the Beast?” she asked.
“Yes,” he breathed. “It doesn’t come this close to the village, not usually. Not unless it’s very hungry.” He looked worried. “We might not get to share you after all.”
There was another shout from one of the huts. “Baffle!”
“What?” he yelled back.
“Stop talking to the food!”
“I wasn’t!”
“Baffle!”
“Sorry,” Baffle whispered to her. Sighing grumpily, he jumped down from the frame and trudged away.
“About time,” said someone from the darkness. “I thought he’d never leave.”
A girl stepped into the light. She looked to be around twenty and her blonde hair hung long and wavy. She was pretty, with green eyes behind her glasses. Smaller than Valkyrie, in good shape, wearing grey jeans and a silver-grey coat.
“Myosotis,” Valkyrie said, the memory of the girl flooding back into her mind, bringing with it their friendship. “Love the coat.”
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Myosotis responded. “I got it a few weeks ago from a little shop in Langenfeld. It’s a bit dirty now, of course, but I suppose that’s what happens when you’re running around somewhere like this, searching for an idiot of a man.”
“Ah,” Valkyrie said. “That man. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”
Myosotis frowned. “So I’ve been searching mile after mile of dark caverns for him, and he doesn’t even have the common courtesy to stay alive until I find him? That is irritating.”
“So what are you guys doing here?”
Valkyrie hesitated. “We’re here to rescue you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Myosotis nodded. “And how’s that going for you?”
“I have to admit, it could be going better.”
“I would agree with you. It’s the thought that counts, though, isn’t that what they say?”
“It is.”
“In which case, thank you for coming to rescue me.”
“You’re welcome,” said Valkyrie. “Can you get me out of these shackles now?”
“What are friends for?” Myosotis asked, then clambered up the frame, took a lock pick from her sleeve and set to work on the shackles. After a moment, she paused.
Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing,” Myosotis said. “It’s just… I’m not used to having a friend. It’s a little odd, you know?”
“Yeah. You could probably work a little faster on the shackles.”
“Shut up, I’m being sincere and vulnerable.”
“Can’t you be those things and work a little faster?”
“The problem with people forgetting you when you’re gone is that nobody actually cares if you don’t come back.”
Valkyrie regarded her as the lock picks scratched and scraped. “Sounds lonely.”
“It can be,” Myosotis said. “But this is the life I chose. Mystery and intrigue and anonymity. There are things one must sacrifice in order to be a good spy.”
“You could give it up, you know. Become a regular operative.”
Myosotis smiled, her thin lips rising. “My Sanctuary values my expertise too much to allow that. But do not feel sorry for me. I never do.” The shackles clicked open. “There. My rescuer is freed.”
Valkyrie’s magic washed over her as they jumped down from the frame. Myosotis handed her a bracelet. “Wear this, it’s one of mine. So long as you keep it close to your skin, you won’t forget me.”
“I’m honoured.”
“You should be.”
“Though it’s a pretty
cheap bracelet.”
“I buy in bulk.”
“I’m still honoured.”
“You still should be.”
Valkyrie’s grin caught on her lips as a low growl reached them. It was close. It was far too close. “The Beast,” she whispered. “It’s behind me.”
Myosotis nodded.
Valkyrie turned slowly, ready to click her fingers and summon a fireball, ready to grab the darkness and hurl spears of shadow. Instead, she frowned.
The Beast was two feet tall, with small arms and tiny hands. It was covered in fur, everywhere except its face, where two large eyes blinked above a small snout. It had little ears that twitched, and big feet.
“Uh,” Valkyrie said. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” said Myosotis.
“Does it grow? Is it suddenly going to expand into a giant and devour us in one bite?”
“Nope,” Myosotis said. “That’s the size it stays.”
“Does it have razor claws that are going to pop out, or huge teeth, or…?”
“Nope.”
“Is it… I mean, is it really bad-tempered?”
“It’s quite good-natured, actually.”
“Then I don’t understand. Why is it so terrible?”
“Who said it was terrible?”
“What do you mean? Everyone’s terrified of it. From the moment we got here they’ve been talking about feeding the Beast, how the Beast must be fed, all that kind of stuff.”
“And the Beast must be fed,” Myosotis nodded. “Otherwise it’d go hungry. But they’re not scared of it. They love it. Look at it – it’s adorable.”
Valkyrie had to admit, it was pretty cute. It kind of wobbled when it walked.
“I think they named it the Beast because they thought it was kind of funny,” Myosotis continued. “It’s their pet.”
“And how exactly would that little thing eat us?”
“From what I can gather, it’s going to just stand there, and then the people who are sneaking up behind us are going to cut our throats, chop us into bits, and feed us to it over the next week or so in very small chunks.”
Valkyrie turned, and a dozen villagers froze mid-step. Baffle was the closest. He looked embarrassed to have been caught out. “Ah,” she said. “So this is where we fight.”
She snapped both hands against the air and Baffle flew backwards, yelling as he crashed into his fellow villagers. She grabbed the shadows, brought them in low, knocking a big man off his feet before he could get to her. Fire flared in her hands and she lobbed it into the middle of the crowd, scattering them. She slammed her elbow into a woman’s face and stomped on the knee of another man. They were everywhere, all around her, but unable to use their magic in case they hit one of their own. Valkyrie didn’t have that problem.
