Valkyrie glared. “I don’t need protection.”
“A vampire’s waiting for you outside – of course you need protection. Keep it brief. We’ll be waiting for you.”
Fletcher grinned. Valkyrie shot him a look and jumped off the stage. He followed her up the aisle and out of the gloom.
Caelan was standing just outside the door. He turned to them as they approached, his dark eyes on Valkyrie. It was as if he didn’t even notice Fletcher beside her.
“Hi,” she said. “Anything wrong?”
“My home was burned down,” Caelan said. “My cage was destroyed. Moloch has lifted his protection – the other vampires see me as fair game now.”
“Oh, God,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
“That is terrible,” Fletcher muttered.
“I have no friends left,” Caelan continued, “and nowhere to go. I thought you or the skeleton would have a suggestion. I need somewhere secure.”
“What about the Midnight Hotel?”
He looked surprised. “That…That would be ideal. You know where it is?”
“I can do better than that – the owner is inside.”
A big car pulled in off the street and Thurid Guild got out. He waved his driver away, then strode towards them. By his narrowed eyes, Valkyrie could tell he knew instantly what Caelan was, but he passed them without saying anything and disappeared into the cinema.
“Shudder might not want a vampire as a guest,” Fletcher said when Guild was gone. “I mean, let’s face it, not many people like vampires. Take me, for instance.”
Valkyrie glared at him then softened her gaze for Caelan. “We can ask him,” she said. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Very well,” Caelan said. “Thank you.”
She walked back into the cinema, Caelan behind her, Fletcher stuck like a limpet at her side. Skulduggery, Ghastly and Shudder stopped talking and watched them approach. Guild didn’t look around.
“Anton,” she said, “this is Caelan. His home was destroyed and he needs somewhere to stay.”
Shudder looked deep into Caelan’s eyes. “Over the hotel’s history,” he said, “I have had two vampires stay as guests. I had to kill one of them.”
“Valkyrie and I are responsible for Caelan’s situation,” Skulduggery said. “I would consider it a personal favour.”
Shudder considered this, then inclined his head. “All are welcome, provided they obey the rules. I’ll lock you in before dark and unlock the door in the morning. We should have no problems.”
Caelan nodded, saying nothing.
“Miss Low could be right,” Guild said, resuming their conversation. “It might be over. Scarab and his lackeys may have scuttled back under whatever rocks they choose to call home. It is possible.”
“I don’t think so,” Skulduggery said. “Scarab’s an assassin. He never has just one plan, one route to the kill. He has back-ups. I think he has a back-up for this too.”
“Then the search continues,” said Shudder. “But now it could be anything, yes? One route has been blocked for him, but we have no idea what the second route could be.”
“We need to figure out what he was planning to do with the Desolation Engine,” Ghastly said. “We can work backwards from there.”
“The obvious target would have been the Sanctuary,” Guild said. “As it is, our work there has been disrupted immensely following the evacuation. We’re only just now returning people to their posts.”
Kenspeckle came through the door in the screen, walking quickly. Valkyrie hadn’t seen much of him since he woke up, on account of the fact that he had immediately thrown himself back into his work. She knew very well what he was doing. He didn’t know how to deal with what the Remnant had done when it was in control, so he had retreated to what he did know how to deal with – treating injured people and dismantling the Engine.
“There’s too many pieces,” he said, hurrying across the stage to them. “Do you understand me? The so-called junk that was found with the Desolation Engine in the castle, there’s too much of it.”
He saw Caelan and froze. “Vampire?” he whispered, appalled.
Immediately, Valkyrie grabbed Caelan’s arm and led him away. “He has a phobia about people like you,” she told him softly. “Would you mind waiting outside?”
“Not at all,” Caelan answered smoothly, and left.
“Sorry, Kenspeckle,” she said.
Kenspeckle’s eyes were wide and his hand was clutching something that hung from his neck. She knew it was the vial of saltwater he wore in case of vampire attack.
“Professor,” Skulduggery prompted. “The leftover pieces from the Desolation Engine. Why is that troubling?”
“I-I don’t know,” Kenspeckle said. “I just…It doesn’t make any sense.”
“A lot of things don’t make any sense,” Guild said. “Such as how you were able to restore that Engine to working order so quickly. We thought it would take you days, if you could do it at all.”
“Of course I could do it!” Kenspeckle snapped, suddenly back to his old self. “There was never any question of whether I could do it! They didn’t know that of course. They just got lucky by picking me.”
“I don’t care how smart you are,” Guild said. “Sanctuary experts have examined that bomb for decades and they still have no idea how it worked, let alone how to fix it in a single afternoon.”
“Of course they don’t, you damn fool. They didn’t build the thing in the first place, now did they?”
They all stared at Kenspeckle. He was flustered. He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“You built it?” Valkyrie asked.
He looked at her. “What?”
“You…you said you built it. The Desolation Engine.”
“I did? I…I suppose I did, yes.” For a moment he looked so very old and so very frail, and then the irritation returned to his voice. “Yes, well, I wasn’t always who I am now. No one ever is. I’ve spent my entire lifetime becoming who I am. Finally, I’m here and I’m old. It’s depressing, it really is.
“When I was a younger man, I was no less intelligent, but I fear I lacked some basic and fundamental sense. My outlook on things was different. My philosophy was different. Different things interested me. The Desolation Engine for instance. I wanted to see if I could build it. It existed in theory, but then it had always existed in theory. It was my goal to turn magic-science theory into magic-science fact. Which was what I did.
“I don’t think I cared about who would use it, or where, or on whom. These things were immaterial. When I was told about the detonation in Naples, I can’t recall being affected by it one way or the other. It worked. I built it, I knew it would work and it did. Project over – start another.
“It was only years later that I understood what I had done and took responsibility for my actions. I didn’t take the human equation into account, you see. I was all about the magic and the science. Everything else…slipped by unnoticed.”
“And you’ve been making up for it ever since,” Ghastly said.
Kenspeckle looked even more annoyed. “No, no, no, that’s not it at all. I merely learned from my mistake and made a decision never to hurt anyone ever again. This isn’t about redemption. I’m not seeking forgiveness. I did what I did and I will suffer for it for the rest of my life, which is no less than I deserve.
“And I’m not telling you all this because I’m after absolution or your understanding. I’m telling you this because I need you to appreciate just how clever I really am. I took an abstract concept of magic-science theory and I made it real. I am very, very clever and I am telling you that something is wrong. There are too many pieces left over.”
“So what does it mean?” Skulduggery asked.
“I think there is only one thing it could mean,” Kenspeckle said, “and it is something that has only occurred to me as I’ve been speaking. It’s not just about the excess parts, it’s about the parts that should be there,
but aren’t. I don’t think I – or the Remnant within me – only repaired the Desolation Engine that Detective Marr has in her possession. I think Scarab got me to build him an entirely new one.”
Skulduggery was the first to speak. “Are you sure?”
“No,” Kenspeckle said at once. “But there is a very big possibility that Scarab has a second Engine.”
“I’ll alert the Sanctuary,” Guild said, taking out his phone.
“Do you have any idea of a kill zone?” Skulduggery asked Kenspeckle while Guild made the call.
“I estimate a lethal radius of 150, maybe 200 square metres,” said Kenspeckle.
“I can’t get through to Marr,” Guild said, putting away his phone, “but the Sanctuary is being evacuated. Again.”
Skulduggery cocked his head. “What if the target isn’t the Sanctuary? If Scarab’s plan was for two bombs all along, he’d have two targets. What’s the second target?”
Ghastly said, “Set it off in a crowded street and we’re looking at a couple of thousand dead.”
Valkyrie frowned. “What would be the point of that? Scarab wants revenge on the Sanctuary, not ordinary people.”
“But attacking ordinary people would be an attack on the Sanctuary,” Ghastly argued. “That’s what it’s there for, isn’t it? To shield the non-magical population from us?”
“So you think Scarab is just going to slaughter thousands of innocent people?” Kenspeckle asked.
Ghastly turned to him. “Why not? The Sanctuary frames Scarab for a crime he didn’t commit, and in response, he commits a crime the Sanctuary will never recover from. You think the other Sanctuaries around the world will ignore something like this? They’ll descend on us and devour everything. They’ll tear this country apart and fight over the remains.”
“It won’t be a street,” Skulduggery murmured. “But it will be somewhere public. Somewhere densely packed. Like a…sports stadium.”
Valkyrie looked at him. “The All-Ireland Championship. My dad was trying to get tickets. But that’s today. It must have already started by now.”
“Good God,” Ghastly said in a quiet voice. “He’s going to kill 80,000 people live on air.”
Skulduggery turned to Fletcher. “Please,” he said, “tell me you’ve been to Croke Park before.”
“Of course,” Fletcher said. “The VIP area, mostly.”
“Perfect. That’s where we’re going.”
“And I’m coming with you,” snarled Guild.
44
REVENGE
Valkyrie was eleven years old the last time she’d been to Croke Park. Her father had taken her to the Dublin Kildare game. She had worn her blue jersey and shouted and screamed and cheered along with the thousands of other people in the stands. The sun had been beating down and she remembered it as a day when everyone around her was smiling and laughing. She’d been buzzing with positivity and had talked non-stop all the way home, a rare feat even back then. Her dad had promised to take her again, but they’d never got around to it.
They teleported on to a wide concrete ramp and immediately Valkyrie was hit by the roar of the crowd inside the stadium. Out here though they were alone, high up off the streets and looking out over Dublin. Fletcher led the way down to a set of doors just as they opened and a security guard came out.
“This is the Executive Area,” he informed them politely but firmly, in the tone of a man who had already dealt with dozens of people who had strayed from where they were meant to be. “VIPs only.”
“We are VIPs,” Ghastly smiled. His façade was up, covering his scars. He walked up to the security guard, reaching his hand into his pocket. “I have our tickets here somewhere. Say, you wouldn’t have seen some friends of ours, would you? An odd-looking bunch, with an old American man?”
“Haven’t seen anyone like that,” said the guard, waiting for the tickets to be produced.
“Pity,” Ghastly said and hit him, catching the guard as he fell. He laid the unconscious man on the ground then rejoined the others as they walked through the doors.
Cream walls and wooden floors, framed photographs and tasteful art. Everything in the VIP area was clean and new and nice and safe. The door to one of the Executive Boxes was open and Valkyrie could see past the people gathered inside to the huge windows that overlooked the stadium. It was packed to capacity – over 82,000 people cheering and singing and waiting to die.
“We’re going to need a Sensitive with us,” Ghastly said as they walked on. “We need someone with psychic abilities to sort through this crowd.”
“Scarab’s gang don’t exactly blend in,” Skulduggery responded. “If they’re anywhere, they’ll be somewhere like this, away from the masses. We have Caelan coming in on foot. The rest of us will have to split up and search different areas.”
“We shouldn’t be trusting a vampire,” said Fletcher.
“But you can trust vampire nature,” Shudder told him. “For whatever reason, Caelan has a grudge against Dusk. You can trust him to see that through.”
“Fletcher,” Skulduggery said, “it’s important you understand this. If you see the enemy, do not engage. You might be the difference between success and mass murder.”
“Fine,” Fletcher responded grudgingly.
“Guild, you might want to call in some of your operatives – try to get in touch with Davina Marr again. We could cover a lot more ground with her and a few Cleavers.”
“Let’s try to get this done without her,” Guild said.
“You’d be willing to risk 80,000 lives just to protect your secret?” Shudder asked.
“I told Anton the truth about the Vanguard assassination,” Skulduggery said.
Anger contorted Guild’s features. “You had no right to discuss that matter with anyone!”
“Anton’s one of us,” said Ghastly. “He’s not going to use your past indiscretions against you. None of us are. Which is why you trust us to go after Scarab’s gang and not Davina Marr.”
“I knew Vanguard,” Shudder said. “He was a good man. And yet I can understand Meritorious’s decision. I don’t agree with it, and I don’t like it, but I understand it. Your secret is safe with me, Grand Mage.”
Guild nodded curtly. Valkyrie could see that he didn’t like the fact that they now had something to hold over him. From what she knew of the man, he didn’t strike her as someone who would be comfortable with trusting other people. By not revealing a secret that could bring him down, each one of them was doing him a favour and he knew it.
They reached the door to the escalators. To their left was a window over the Conference Centre, another Executive Box, an elevator and two wooden doors that stood open wide. Standing in that doorway, a smile on his face, was Dreylan Scarab.
They all stopped – Guild out in front, Valkyrie beside Skulduggery, Fletcher and Shudder to her right, Ghastly to her left. Scarab didn’t look at all alarmed.
“Aren’t you a motley crew?” he said. “Detectives and desperadoes. Outlaws and agents. And so many of you. However can I hope to prevail against your combined might?”
“Give us the bomb,” said Guild.
“You have the bomb.”
“The other bomb.”
“Ah,” Scarab smiled. “You figured it out, eh? Of course, you realise this isn’t going to end without a battle. You have your motley crew. I have my Revengers’ Club.”
“They seem to have deserted you,” said Ghastly.
Scarab shook his head. “We’ve lost a couple along the way, but the big players are around. This is all part of our lovely little plan, you see. Everything we’ve done, it’s all about revenge. And when it comes to revenge, timing is everything.”
Skulduggery stepped past Guild. “Scarab, you’re under arrest. Hand over the Desolation Engine, give yourself up and I swear you will get a fair trial.”
“You slap those cuffs on me and I’ll be dead before I get to a cell and you know it. The Grand Mage will have me killed. He might very
well have you killed too. And your friends. We know too much, don’t we, Grand Mage?”
“The Detective is offering you a peaceful way out,” Guild said. “I suggest you take him up on it.”
“You prepared to give me a fair trial too, Guild?”
“Of course.”
Scarab laughed. “For a born liar you’re not very good at lying. You’d organised a little welcoming party for my release, hadn’t you?”
Guild narrowed his eyes. “This is getting us nowhere.”
“A nice band of specially chosen Cleavers, waiting for me when I got out of prison. Lucky for me the warden is no fan of yours, so he let me out a few days early.”
“Take him down,” Guild said to Skulduggery.
“Want to know a secret?” Scarab said with a grin. “I think the American Council is kind of hoping my little revenge plot succeeds. And the Russian Council didn’t tell you that Billy-Ray had freed Dusk, did they? Seems to me a lot of folk are hoping I succeed. Everybody who’s anybody wants you dead.”
Guild stalked forward, clicking his fingers and summoning flame. “If you want something done,” he muttered.
“Oh, good,” Scarab said. “The fight.” He turned and ran, and Guild ran after him.
The elevator door opened behind them and Valkyrie whirled round to see Dusk and Springheeled Jack stepping out. They brought up their silenced sub-machine guns and opened fire.
She dived, glimpsed Ghastly pulling Fletcher to the ground, and an instant later they had disappeared. Shudder dodged behind a pillar. Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery, but he was just standing there, hands out, and she saw the bullets appearing in front of him, coming into view as they slowed.
The gunfire cut off and she peeked out. Fletcher and Ghastly had materialised behind the enemy, and Ghastly had his arm wrapped around Jack’s throat. Fletcher grabbed Dusk and they both vanished. Jack squirmed free and kicked out, catching Ghastly across the jaw. Ghastly pushed at the air and the gun flew from Jack’s hands. Ghastly smashed a fist into him and kept on pummelling. Three punches sang in a short, sweet rhythm, the fourth knocking Jack’s hat off his head. Jack stumbled away, straight into Shudder, whose elbow cracked against Jack’s chin. Jack wobbled and went down.