Darquesse powered through the dark river, Vile right behind, reaching out. He snagged her foot and she veered up, broke the surface, trying to shake him. He twisted in mid-air, threw her like a baseball. It was almost fun, the speed at which she was thrown. Another window smashed to smithereens around her. She hit a railing, tumbled down some stairs, came to rest against a shelf, comics falling on top of her. She saw a sign that said Forbidden Planet. A comic shop. How fitting.
She looked up. Vile stood at the top of the stairs.
“We should really stop throwing each other through windows,” she told him. She reached up to the counter, pulled herself to her feet. “You know what the funny thing is? I actually don’t care any more if you kill Melancholia. Isn’t that funny? In fact, if you’d be agreeable, maybe we could pop back for a moment and I’ll kill her myself. What do you say?”
He stood there, a dark shape, unmoving.
A shard of glass had managed to sneak into her belly, between her trousers and jacket. She gripped it with two fingers and pulled it out slowly. It was much longer than she’d expected. When it was out, she dropped it and pulled another shard from her forehead. “So that’s a no, then, is it? Pity.”
He walked down the steps.
“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” she asked. “Don’t you want to kill the Death Bringer? What about me? Do you want to kill me? I’m going to kill the world, after all. This might be your only chance to stop me.”
He reached the bottom and just stood there, looking at her.
“I’m only going to get stronger,” she said, “and you know it. This is your only chance. No? You’re not going to take it?” She laughed. “I’m disappointed. I’ve heard so much about the great Lord Vile, and now look at him. He’s not even going to kill his enemy when she’s right in front of him. What do I have to do? How do I provoke such a scary, scary man like you into doing what needs to be done? Do I go out there and kill someone? What about those cops? Do you need me to kill those cops? I’d like another go at that helicopter, actually. I’d like to see it crash and burn. Or maybe something else. What else could I do, I wonder?”
“Valkyrie,” Lord Vile said. His voice was a whisper.
Darquesse smiled. “I’m Valkyrie. Whatever you’ve got to say to her, you can say to me. What was it Skulduggery said earlier? I’m her bad mood.”
That whisper again. “Let her out.”
“But I’m not repressing her. I know you understand this. I am Valkyrie. I’m just embracing my potential. If my conscience never reasserted itself, I’d stay like this for ever. Just like you’d stay like that, Skulduggery.”
Vile tilted his head. Then his hands went to his mask and she heard the clasps open, one by one. Shadows leaked, dissipating in the air. He pulled the mask away, revealing the gleaming skull beneath.
“I wouldn’t stay like this,” Skulduggery said. “I like being me.”
Darquesse smiled. “Do you really? Do you really like carrying around all that shame and guilt? I doubt it. I bet you anything that being Lord Vile was the most fun you’ve had in years.”
“You’d be wrong.”
“I think you’re fibbing.”
He let the chest plate fall. Beneath it, his shirt was rumpled, and his bow tie was askew. “The most fun I’ve had recently was St Patrick’s Day last year. You remember it?”
Darquesse frowned. “Did we do anything on St Patrick’s Day?”
He continued to strip the armour away. “We were on a stake-out. It was you, me and Fletcher. For the first hour, he wouldn’t shut up. Then you started insulting him.”
“Oh,” Darquesse said. “I remember.”
“It was five hours with the three of us stuck in a room, and then another four hours with just the two of us, after Fletcher couldn’t take it any more.”
Darquesse laughed. “I’ve never seen him sulk so hard.”
“That was a good day for me,” Skulduggery said. “I didn’t have to hit anyone. I didn’t have to shoot anyone. I just sat around and talked to my good friend and partner, Valkyrie Cain.”
“And insulted her boyfriend,” Darquesse grinned.
“Indeed.”
Valkyrie shrugged. “Ex-boyfriend now, of course.”
“Fletcher was always going to be your ex-boyfriend, from the moment you met him. He’s just finally caught up with where he’s supposed to be.”
“What a nice way of looking at it.”
The last bit of Skulduggery’s armour joined the pile. “Maybe you should share that with him the next time you see him.”
“Maybe.” She looked round at the shattered glass and the mess. “I’m tired.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“People saw us. That taxi driver. He saw me.”
“That’s what people like Scrutinous are for.”
“I’m me again, by the way.”
“I know.”
Valkyrie let out a deep breath. “Did you see what I did? I was practically dead and I healed myself. How did I do that? I don’t even know what kind of magic it was. It certainly wasn’t Elemental, and it was like no Adept discipline I’ve ever heard of. It didn’t follow any of the rules.”
“I don’t know, Valkyrie.”
“I wonder what else I can do?” she said, and heat rose in her face. “I mean… I don’t want to know. I don’t want anything like that to happen again, I just…”
“I know,” Skulduggery said. “You’re just wondering.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Exactly. It was… amazing. I was flying, for God’s sake. Me. On my own. I was doing all these incredible things…”
Skulduggery held his hand over the armour, and the various sections melted into each other. He picked up what was left. “Power is intoxicating.”
“That’s a good word for it.”
“And like any intoxicant, it’s also addictive.”
She fell silent.
They climbed the stairs and stepped out through the window. Dawn was on its way. Valkyrie took out her phone to check the time. It fell to pieces the moment it left her pocket.
“Huh,” she said. “I think I need a more impact-resistant phone.”
Skulduggery took out his. “Three missed calls, all from Ghastly.”
“At least he’s alive.”
Skulduggery wrapped one arm around her waist, and they rose up off the pavement. “Thanks to you,” he said.
They flew over the city, the wind gently boosting them. The flashing lights and the sirens faded and Valkyrie looked to the approaching horizon, fighting the voice in her head. She used to love it when Skulduggery would take her into the air. The pure sensation of flying used to make her smile so, so wide. But now she wanted to pull away, to flatten out and go like a rocket. She wanted to do it herself. She wanted to feel that level of power again.
Soon, the voice in her head told her. Soon.
Chapter 60
Tattletale
armth and sunshine never really seemed to reach Roarhaven. It was as if it had its own extra layer of atmosphere that kept out anything that could possibly lighten the mood of its citizens. The same dour faces peered at the Bentley as they passed, unimpressed with the activity that was making the Sanctuary hum.
The Bentley stopped right at the end of the main street, and Skulduggery and Valkyrie looked at all the sorcerers streaming in through the Sanctuary doors. Today, they were to be honoured by the guests and the Council of Elders for their work to prevent the Passage, and for their efforts to save the lives of the people who were gathering. Ravel had assured them it would be a quiet ceremony.
“It doesn’t look quiet,” Valkyrie said.
“Indeed it does not,” Skulduggery murmured.
“Are they going to give us medals, or something? Maybe vouchers? I could use some vouchers.”
“There’s going to be speeches. Everyone of importance will want to stand up and give a speech. I hate speeches. They’re only good when I give them.”
> Valkyrie sighed. “How long before it starts?”
“Ten minutes.”
She opened the car door. “I’m going for a walk.”
“You better not be late.”
She grinned. “Would I do that to you?”
She got out, and the Bentley moved on. She crossed the street. There would be enough hand-shaking and polite smiles as it was – she didn’t need to turn up early and subject herself to more.
“Here she is,” said a voice from behind her, “the hero of the hour.”
She turned, watching warily as Solomon Wreath approached, his cane tapping the pavement. “Are we going to start fighting?”
“Why ever would we do that?” he asked, smiling.
“I’d say I’m not the Necromancers’ favourite person right now.”
“Oh,” he said, “that. That’ll pass, Valkyrie. You’ve got nothing to worry about – the Order poses no threat to you. Especially here in Ireland. The Temple is empty. The Elders say they’re going to tear it down, or convert it into something that could be used by the Sanctuary. I’d say such a move would be sacrilegious, but no one would care.”
“I certainly wouldn’t.”
“There you go.” He sighed, and looked at her. “How is our little Death Bringer, anyway?”
“Unconscious,” Valkyrie said, “and she’ll remain that way for a long time. Doctor Nye induced a coma. It was the safest thing to do, apparently. Her power was surging and looping and going nuts. She could have gone off at any time.”
“Gone off ?”
“Like a bomb, Nye said. Like a small nuke, in fact. All that uncontrolled magic just… exploding. Scary stuff. And all because of you and your friends.”
“Craven was not a friend.”
“I meant Necromancers in general.”
“Oh. Then yes, it was all our fault. But look on the bright side. Nobody died.”
Valkyrie frowned. “Lots of people died.”
“But nobody you like. Everyone at the Ball got up and walked away, didn’t they?”
“I suppose. Scapegrace got his head chopped off, though.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“You don’t have to. I don’t really like him, anyway.”
“See? Happy endings all round. Any word on Vile?”
Valkyrie shook her head. “He disappeared. Hasn’t been seen since.”
“Melancholia must have really thrown him about the place. O’Connell Street is in ruins.”
“Yeah,” Valkyrie said, “she must have.”
“Your friend Scrutinous has undoubtedly been working overtime to keep the truth of what happened out of the news reports.”
“Ruptured gas mains are terrible things.”
“Makes you wonder, though, with all that damage, why Vile didn’t just kill her.”
“He didn’t have to. He’d sabotaged her power. He didn’t need to do anything else.”
“But this is Lord Vile we’re talking about. He’s not the kind to leave jobs half done.”
Valkyrie shrugged. “Well, the next time I see him, I’ll ask him, OK? And what are you going to do now? Join a Temple in England? America?”
Wreath hesitated. “The Order isn’t too keen on taking me back, actually. Even though I’ve been exonerated of all wrongdoing, they feel my presence might tarnish their good standing in the rest of the world, or what there is of it. They’d rather everyone just forgot about the Passage for a few years. I don’t really see that happening, but Necromancers have a proud history of sticking their heads in the sand. No, Valkyrie, I’m basically going to walk the earth. Walk from place to place, meet people, get in adventures.”
“Like Jules, in Pulp Fiction.”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Cool.”
“Or I could stay here, and you could continue your lessons in Necromancy…?”
“I’ll keep practising on my own, thank you very much.”
“You might need this,” he said, and tossed her a black ring, identical to the one Melancholia had destroyed. “It’s empty, and waiting for you to pour your magic into.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Giving up power like that?”
She looked away. “You have no idea.”
The Bentley pulled up beside them. Skulduggery got out.
“Detective Pleasant,” Wreath said. “All’s well that ends well, eh?”
“I don’t want to see you around for a while,” Skulduggery said. “Nothing personal, you understand.”
“I do, of course,” Wreath said, and bowed slightly. He looked at Valkyrie. “I’m expecting great things from you, my dear.”
She nodded, didn’t answer. The shadows swirled, and he was gone. She walked over to the Bentley. “Is it time?”
“Yes it is,” Skulduggery said. They got in the car, and slowly pulled away from the kerb.
Valkyrie frowned. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“Are we?”
“The Sanctuary’s behind us.”
“Oh dear.”
They kept going. Valkyrie smiled. “Are they going to be upset?”
“Probably,” he admitted. “But I just couldn’t subject you to an entire afternoon of people telling us how great we are. We don’t need people to tell us that. We know. If I were you, though, I’d turn off your phone.”
“Good idea,” she said. As she dug her new phone out of her pocket, she asked, “Where are we off to?”
“China’s library. She left me a message to come and see her as soon as we can. I think that takes priority over a needless ego boost, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
They left Roarhaven by the dusty road that linked it to the outside world.
They were lying, of course, and they both knew it. It wasn’t the speeches that kept them from the ceremony, or the hand-shaking or the polite smiles. It was the fact that they were being celebrated for actions they couldn’t be proud of. The only way to beat Melancholia had been for Skulduggery to become Lord Vile, and the only way to beat Lord Vile had been for Valkyrie to become Darquesse.
“There’s something wrong with us,” Valkyrie murmured as they drove.
“Yes, there is.”
“What are you going to do with the armour?”
“Seal it away. It’s the only thing I can do.”
“You might need it again.”
“Hopefully not.”
She turned her head to him. “If Darquesse comes out again and I can’t regain control, you’re going to need some way to stop me. You can’t let me kill my family, Skulduggery.”
He looked at her. “That’s not going to happen.”
“We saw it happen.”
“We saw a vision of one possible future.”
“You have to stop me,” she said, switching her gaze to the road ahead.
He was silent for a moment. “I will,” he promised, his voice soft. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
China and Eliza Scorn were fighting in the street when they reached the tenement building. The Bentley screeched to a halt and Skulduggery and Valkyrie leaped out.
“Hey!” Valkyrie roared. “Get away from her!”
Scorn rammed China into the side of the car. China staggered, caught a punch right on the hinge of the jaw that dropped her to her knees. Scorn kicked her full force in the belly and China folded.
Skulduggery’s gun was in his hand. Scorn crouched low, using China as a shield.
“Don’t shoot,” Scorn called.
“Stand up and move away,” Skulduggery ordered.
“So you have a clear shot? I don’t think so.”
China moaned as she sucked in air. “Kill her,” she managed. “She’s… got a… bomb.”
“I have a bombshell,” Scorn corrected, “of information.”
“What’s that in your hand?” Skulduggery asked.
Scorn smiled. She was holding a small black cylinder with a red
button on top. “OK, fine, I do have an actual bomb too. A few bombs, in fact. Small ones, but you work with what you’ve got. They’re spread around the library, and there are a few in China’s apartment, too. Don’t worry, there’s nobody up there. No one’s going to get hurt.”
Skulduggery thumbed back the hammer of his gun. “Drop the switch.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“If you press that button, you’ll end up in a cell.”
“I don’t think I will. I think, when I do press this button, you’re going to let me walk away.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I have information you’re going to find very interesting. I’ve been researching this over the last few months, actually. Do you remember the day your family died?”
“It’s always amusing,” Skulduggery said, “when someone tries to use that to goad me into doing something.”
“Oh, I’m not goading you. I’m genuinely asking.” Ever so slowly, Scorn stood up straight. “I wasn’t even in the country at the time. I think I was in Spain, doing a thing. Anyway, Nefarian Serpine – great guy, by the way – needed to throw you off balance, needed you distracted, needed you to get angry and stop thinking straight. So obviously, killing your wife and kid in front of you was the only reasonable way to do that. He wasn’t well, that man. He had issues, you know what I mean? He needed to distract you and the only thing he could come up with was to murder your family? Not have someone wave to you, or something? But that was him all over, wasn’t it? He went to extremes, and this was one of them.”
China suddenly moved, grabbing Scorn’s leg, but Scorn just leaned down and punched her. Skulduggery took a step forward, but Scorn held up the switch. “The thing is,” she continued, “Serpine was so busy organising a whole range of assassinations and murders that week that he just didn’t have the time to go out and round up your family himself. So he sent a group of people he knew he could count on. He sent the Diablerie.”