Scepter of the Ancients

by Derek Landy

“All right then,” Stephanie said. “Just wanted to make sure we’d thought of everything. So let’s go.”

  Without a word, the Cleavers ran forward and jumped, legs tucked beneath them, cleared the top of the wall, and disappeared from view.

  “Show-offs,” Ghastly muttered, sweeping both hands down by his sides. A gust of wind lifted him and swung him up toward the wall, where he grabbed on and pulled himself to the top. Tanith turned to Stephanie.

  “Want a boost?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  Tanith crouched, interlocking her fingers, and Stephanie put one foot into her hands. On the count of three, Stephanie shot upward. Tanith was strong, stronger than she looked—Stephanie had no trouble catching the edge of the wall. Ghastly helped her up, dropped down the other side, and turned to wait for her. She let herself hang down, then released her grip, and her boots crunched onto dried leaves and brittle twigs. A moment later Tanith landed beside her.

  The woodland was thick, and as they moved deeper into it, it became darker. The sun had difficulty filtering through the tall trees, and it was cold enough to make Stephanie grateful for her coat. The Cleavers didn’t make a sound as they walked. The woodland was quiet—quieter than it had any right to be. No birds sang. Nothing rustled in the undergrowth. It gave her an eerie sensation.

  They reached the line of trees at the rear of the castle and ducked down. A small army of Hollow Men patrolled the grounds.

  “Oh joy,” Ghastly said grimly. “How are we going to get by them?”

  “We need a diversion,” Tanith said.

  “Any suggestions?”

  Tanith didn’t answer, but after a moment she looked at the Cleavers. Ghastly understood immediately.

  “But there are too many,” he protested.

  Tanith’s tone was flat but firm. “We don’t have a choice.”

  The Cleavers tilted their heads toward her, and after a moment they nodded. They stole back among the trees and were gone.

  Stephanie waited with Tanith and Ghastly.

  “They won’t be able to hold them off for long,” Ghastly said.

  “Long enough for us to sneak in,” Tanith said.

  “That’s not what I meant. You’ve just sent them to their deaths.”

  She didn’t look at him. “They’ll do their jobs. We’ll do ours. Do you want your friend back or not?”

  Ghastly didn’t answer.

  “Look,” Stephanie said.

  The Hollow Men were moving fast, moving out of their field of vision.

  “Let’s go,” Tanith said.

  They broke from the trees, sprinting across the wide-open space toward the castle. Stephanie glanced to her right as she ran, saw the Cleavers standing back-to-back in the distance as the Hollow Men closed in.

  They reached the castle. Tanith placed her hand flat on the lock and twisted her wrist. Stephanie heard the lock break within the door, and Tanith pushed it open slowly. They crept in, then closed the door behind them.

  They kept to the outer corridors, staying away from the cold heart of the castle. They found a stairway leading down, and Tanith went first, sword in her right hand, scabbard in her left. Stephanie followed a few paces behind, and Ghastly came last.

  They reached the basement, although Stephanie thought that calling it a dungeon would probably be more accurate. Tanith held up her hand, and they stopped and watched a Hollow Man clump ahead of them and pass out of sight.

  They made their way forward. Tanith approached the first heavy iron door and put her ear against it. After a moment, she pushed it open. The hinges groaned in protest, but the room was empty.

  Ghastly went to the next door, listened, and opened it. Again, it was empty.

  Tanith glanced at Ghastly and they shared a look, and Stephanie knew what it was about.

  “We should split up,” Stephanie whispered.

  “No,” said Tanith.

  “No way,” said Ghastly.

  “If we waste time, the Hollow Men will be back outside the door and we won’t be able to get away.”

  “Then you come with me,” Ghastly whispered.

  Stephanie shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll listen at the doors. If I hear anything, I’ll get you. If I meet a bad guy, you can be pretty sure you’ll know about it. We don’t have a choice.”

  They looked at her but didn’t argue. Tanith went to the next door, Ghastly hurried down the length of the corridor, and Stephanie turned back and rounded the corner. She came to another row of iron doors and listened intently at each one. She followed the maze of corridors wherever they took her. She found herself breathing through her mouth and tasted the foulness of the air on the back of her throat. There were puddles here, stagnant pools of water on the uneven stone floor. The doors were no longer made of iron but of rotting wood. The flickering of the torches in the brackets made shadows dance on the walls.

  She saw someone moving ahead and was about to duck back when she recognized Ghastly. He waved to her and she waved back, then started checking the doors closest to her. They were working their way toward each other when Stephanie came to a door and heard a low whistling. She frowned. Could Skulduggery whistle? He could talk without lips or breath, so she couldn’t see a reason why he wouldn’t be able to whistle. She didn’t recognize the tune, however. She motioned to Ghastly and he crept forward. After listening for a moment, he nodded.

  “That’s ‘The Girl from Ipanema,’” he whispered. “That’s him.”

  He held up three fingers, then two, then one, and they burst into the room. Skulduggery looked up and stopped whistling. “Oh, hello,” he said. “I know where the key to the caves is.”

  Stephanie closed the door as Ghastly hurried around behind him, stooping to examine the shackles.

  “Quality workmanship,” Ghastly said.

  “I thought you’d appreciate it. There’s a binding spell woven into the metal.”

  “Nice. It’ll take me a moment.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Are you okay?” Stephanie asked.

  “I’ve been treated well,” he answered with a nod. “Apart from all the torture. It’s given me time to think, actually. I know where the key is.”

  “So you said.”

  Ghastly stood and the shackles fell. Skulduggery got to his feet.

  “Is Meritorious here?” he asked.

  “He’s telling the other Elders what’s going on,” Ghastly said.

  “Ah,” Skulduggery said. “So you’re doing this on your own?”

  “Tanith Low is here, but basically, yes.”

  Skulduggery shrugged. “I must admit, it’s going rather fabulously so far.”

  “The key,” Stephanie said. “You didn’t tell Serpine where it is, did you?”

  “I couldn’t have, even if I’d wanted to. Just worked it out a few minutes ago. Simple, really. It was right in front of us.”

  “We can talk about this later,” Ghastly said. “We have to go.”

  “Will there be fighting?”

  “I hope not.”

  “I’m in the mood for some fighting.”

  “If there is,” Stephanie said, handing him his gun, “here’s something you can use.”

  “Ah, bless. I’ve missed her. Do you have bullets?”

  “Uh, no.”

  Skulduggery paused. “Excellent,” he said, and tucked the gun away.

  “Let’s go,” said Ghastly, and stepped out the door.

  Stephanie and Skulduggery followed, and they hurried down the corridor and turned a corner. A group of Hollow Men froze in mid step and regarded them vacantly. Time stood still.

  “Yes,” Skulduggery said. “This is a fabulous rescue indeed.”

  The Hollow Men came at them, and Skulduggery and Ghastly went into action. Skulduggery worked with elbows and knees, wristlocks and armlocks. Ghastly deftly wove in and around attacks, firing punches at whoever got close.

  Beyond the silent Hollow Men, Stephanie saw
Tanith sprinting forward. She ran up the wall and across the ceiling and continued running, upside down.

  Stephanie stared. She hadn’t known Tanith could do that.

  From the ceiling, Tanith joined the attack, swinging the sword and slicing through the tops of heads. Within a matter of moments, the Hollow Men were reduced to tatters and a foul smell.

  Tanith jumped down, flipping to land on her feet. “There are more coming,” she said, then added helpfully, “We should probably leave.”

  They reached the stairs without encountering any more opposition, but as they were running for the exit, two massive doors were kicked open ahead, and the Hollow Men reinforcements arrived.

  Skulduggery and Ghastly stepped up, clicking their fingers and hurling fireballs at the ground. Stephanie watched their hands move, manipulating the flames until there was a wall of fire keeping the Hollow Men back.

  Tanith turned to Stephanie. “Coat.”

  “What?”

  Without giving an explanation, Tanith gripped Stephanie’s collar and pulled the coat off. She then ran for the window, covering her head with the coat, and jumped. She crashed through in an explosion of glass.

  “Oh,” Stephanie murmured.

  She ran over, climbing through the window as Tanith got to her feet.

  “Thanks,” Tanith said, handing her back the coat.

  “Watch out!” Ghastly shouted.

  Stephanie dodged to one side as Ghastly and Skulduggery dived through the window—Ghastly lower down, Skulduggery above him—like two lunatic acrobats. They hit the grass and rolled, came up at the same time.

  “Flee,” Skulduggery said.

  As they ran for the trees, Stephanie saw one of the Cleavers who had accompanied them. Judging by the tattered paper strewn around him, the Cleavers had obviously put up an amazing fight, but the sheer numbers of Hollow Men had proven too much. He lay dead on the grass. She saw no sign of the other one.

  And then they were in the trees and not slowing down, and Hollow Men were crashing through the undergrowth after them.

  Ghastly reached the wall first, swept his hands beneath him, and let the air lift him over the wall.

  Tanith just kept running. Right before she was about to smack straight into it she gave a little jump, and then she was running up the wall.

  Before Stephanie could ask Skulduggery for a boost, his arm wrapped around her waist and she found herself rushing upward, the wind in her ears, and the top of the wall passing beneath her feet. They landed on the other side with such ease and gentleness that Stephanie almost laughed despite herself.

  They got into the van and Ghastly turned the key and pulled out onto the road, and they left the castle behind them.

  Eighteen

  ON THE ROOF, AT NIGHT

  LAUGHTER DRIFTED IN the distance, and Skulduggery looked toward it. They were standing on the roof of Ghastly’s shop. Dublin City twinkled as it got ready for sleep. Stephanie could see over rooftops, over streets, down lanes. She could see the cars passing, and here and there people walking. When he turned back, he said, “So, Valkyrie Cain, eh?”

  “You don’t think it sounds silly, do you?”

  “On the contrary, I think it sounds perfect. Valkyrie. Warrior women who guide the souls of the dead off the battlefield. A tad morbid, but then, who am I to judge? I’m technically dead.”

  She looked at him and took a moment before speaking again. “So was it bad? The torture?”

  “It wasn’t fun,” he said. “I think that after the first few hours, he knew I had no idea where the key was. After that, he was torturing me purely for the sake of torturing me. Did I thank you for coming to my rescue, by the way?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Nonsense. Thank you.”

  She smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  “Your friend Tanith seemed a bit quiet on the trip home.”

  “I think she regrets using the Cleavers as a diversion.”

  “I would have made the same decision,” Skulduggery said. “The Cleavers have a job to do. Let them do it.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Ah, but it’s one thing to understand that, it’s quite another to accept it. Until that happens, she’s going to have one or two nightmares about it. But she’s a warrior. She’ll make it.”

  “She’s a good fighter.”

  “Indeed she is.”

  “If I started training now, would I be able to fight like her when I’m her age?”

  “I don’t see why not. Sixty years of good solid training is enough to turn anyone into a tidy little scrapper.”

  “What?”

  “What what?”

  “Sixty years? How old is she?”

  “I’d say seventy if she’s a day.”

  Stephanie stared. “Right,” she said firmly. “It’s time for you to tell me how you people live so long.”

  “Diet and exercise.”

  “Skulduggery …”

  “Clean healthy living.”

  “I swear …”

  “Magic, then.”

  She looked at him. “Do all sorcerers live forever?”

  “Not forever, no. Not even close to forever. We do age; it’s just we do it slower than the rest of humanity. The regular use of a certain amount of magic rejuvenates the body, keeps it young.”

  “So if I started learning magic now, I’d stay twelve?”

  “It would take you a few years to reach the level when aging slows, but yes, after that, you would stay young for a lot longer than is strictly fair. I know it’s impolite to discuss a lady’s age, but China is the same age as I am, and even I have to admit that she wears it better!” He laughed, then stopped and peered at her. “Because I’m a skeleton,” he explained.

  “Yes, I got it.”

  “You weren’t laughing.”

  “I didn’t think it was funny.”

  “Oh.”

  “So what are you going to do about her?”

  “China? There is nothing to do. She behaved exactly as I would have expected her to behave. The scorpion stings the fox because that is its nature. You can’t deny your nature.”

  “And what’s your nature?”

  His head tilted. “Odd question.”

  “China said some things about you. And Serpine. She said all you want is revenge.”

  “And you’re wondering how far I’ll go to get that revenge, is that it? You’re wondering how much I’m willing to sacrifice in order to make him pay for killing me all those years ago.”

  “Yes.”

  He paused a moment, then slipped his hands into his pockets and spoke. “What China didn’t tell you, what I didn’t tell you, is that I was not the only one caught in Serpine’s trap.”

  Stephanie didn’t say anything. She waited for him to continue.

  “The trap was exquisite. A thing of beauty, it really was. You see, Valkyrie, a successful trap needs one important quality, the same quality any trick or illusion needs: misdirection. When your attention is focused on one thing, something else is happening behind your back.

  “I didn’t even realize it was a trap until it was sprung. Serpine knew me, you see, and he knew how I’d react to certain stimuli. He knew, for instance, that if he murdered my wife and child right in front of me, I’d never even suspect that the handle of the dagger I reached for was barbed with poison.”

  Stephanie stared at him, but Skulduggery just looked out over the city.

  “I didn’t use magic, you see, and he knew I wouldn’t. He knew I’d be too angry, he knew my rage would fuel a physical attack, that I’d need to kill him up close and personal. And the moment my hand closed around that dagger, I realized my mistake. Of course, by then it was too late. I was helpless.

  “It took him a few days to finally kill me. I died hating him, and when I came back, the hatred came back with me.” He turned his head to her. “You asked me what is my nature? It is a dark and twisted thing.”

  “I do
n’t know what to say,” Stephanie said softly.

  “Not much you can say to a story like that, is there?”

  “Not really.”

  “Yep, I win on the ol’ dramatic-story front every time.”

  They stood in silence for a while. Despite the warmth of the night, it was chilly up here, but Stephanie didn’t mind.

  “What happens now?” she asked.

  “The Elders go to war. They’ll find the castle empty—Serpine wouldn’t stay there after this—so they’ll be looking for him. They’ll also be tracking down his old allies to make sure they don’t get the opportunity to organize.”

  “And what do we do?”

  “We get to the Scepter before Serpine.”

  “The key,” she said. “Where is it?”

  He turned to her. “Gordon hid it. Clever man, your uncle. He didn’t think anyone should have access to that weapon, but he hid the key in a place where if we truly needed to find it, if the situation got so dire that we truly needed the Scepter, all it would take was a little detective work.”

  “So where is it?”

  “The piece of advice he gave me, in the lawyer’s office, do you remember what it was?”

  “He said a storm is coming.”

  “And he also said that sometimes the key to safe harbor is hidden from us, and sometimes it is right before our eyes.”

  “He was talking about the key, literally? It’s right before our eyes?”

  “It was, when those words were first spoken in the lawyer’s office.”

  “Fedgewick has the key?”

  “Not Fedgewick. He gave it away.”

  She frowned, remembering the reading of the will, then remembering the lock in the cellar, no bigger than Skulduggery’s palm. She looked up at him. “Not the brooch?”

  “The brooch.”

  “Gordon gave the key—the key to the most powerful weapon in existence—to Fergus and Beryl?” she asked incredulously. “Why would he do that?”

  “Would you ever have thought to look for it with them?”

  She let the notion sink in, then started to smile. “They were left the most valuable possession Gordon had, and they didn’t even realize it.”

  “It’s actually quite amusing.”

  “It actually is.”

  “So now all we have to do is get it.”