“It sounds like a lot of people are panicking.”
“And they have a right to. Our systems of power, our systems of self-government, are delicate. If we topple, others will follow. We need a strong leader.”
“Why don’t you do it?”
He laughed. “Because I’m not well liked, and I’m not well trusted, and I already have a job. I’m a detective, remember?”
She gave a little shrug. “Vaguely.”
Another snippet of pub music drifted by the window, and she thought about the world she’d grown up in, and how different it was from the world she’d been introduced to, and yet how similar. There was joy and happiness in both, just as there was heartbreak and horror. There was good and evil and everything in between, and these qualities seemed to be shared equally in the worlds of the magical and the mundane. It was her life now. She couldn’t imagine living without either one.
“How are you?” Skulduggery asked, his voice gentle.
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Really? No nightmares?”
“Maybe one or two,” she admitted.
“They’ll always be there, reminding us of where we went wrong. If you pay attention to your bad dreams, they can help you.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind next time I’m asleep.”
“Good,” said Skulduggery. “In any event, get well soon. We have mysteries to solve, and adventures to undertake, and I need my partner and student with me.”
“Student?”
He shrugged. “Things are going to get a lot rougher from here on in, and I need someone to fight by my side. There’s something about you, Valkyrie. I’m not quite sure what it is. I look at you, and …”
“And you’re reminded of yourself when you were my age?”
“Hm? Oh, no; what I was going to say is there’s something about you that is really annoying, and you never do what you’re told, and sometimes I question your intelligence—but even so, I’m going to train you, because I like having someone follow me around like a little puppy. It makes me feel good about myself.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a moron.”
“Don’t be jealous of my genius.”
“Can you get over yourself for just a moment?”
“If only that were possible.”
“For a guy with no internal organs, you’ve got quite the ego.”
“And for a girl who can’t stand up without falling over, you’re quite the critic.”
“My leg will be fine.”
“And my ego will flourish. What a pair we are.”
She had to laugh. “Go on, get out. Mum’ll be up soon to check on me.”
“Before I go …”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you going to show me what you’ve been practicing? You’ve been dying to show off from the moment I knocked on this window.”
She looked at him and arched an eyebrow, but he was right and he knew it. The other good thing about this recuperation period was that she had all the time she wanted to develop her powers, and she hadn’t wasted the few days that had passed already.
She clicked her fingers, summoning a small flame into the palm of her hand. She watched it flicker and dance, then looked up at Skulduggery and grinned.
“Magic,” he said.
DEREK LANDY
One
HANGING AROUND
VAIALKYRIE CAIN hit the arapet and tumbled, unable to stop herself, and with a panicked gasp she disappeared off the edge. The church tower stood high and proud, looking out over Dublin City. The night breeze was brisk and carried snatches of laughter from the street below. It was a long way down. A man in a tattered coat walked up to the edge and peered over. He smirked.
“This is insulting,” he said. “Don’t they know how dangerous I am? I am very, very dangerous. I’m a killer. I’m a trained killing machine. And still, they send you. A child.”
Valkyrie felt her grip on the ledge loosen. She ignored the goading of the man standing above her and looked around for something else to grab on to. She looked everywhere but down. Down was where the street was, where the long drop and the sudden stop was. She didn’t want to look down. She didn’t want anything to do with down right now.
“What age are you?” the man continued. “Thirteen? What kind of responsible adult sends a thirteen-year-old child to stop me? What kind of thinking is that?”
Valkyrie swung herself gently toward the tower, planting her feet against a small buttress. The fear started to work through her, and she felt herself freeze up. She closed her eyes against the oncoming wave of paralysis.
The man was Vaurien Scapegrace, currently wanted in five countries for various counts of attempted murder. He hunkered down at the edge and smiled happily.
“I am turning murder into an art form. When I—when I kill, I’m actually painting a big, big picture, using blood and, and … messiness. You know?”
Below Valkyrie, the city twinkled.
“I’m an artist,” Scapegrace continued. “Some people don’t appreciate that. Some people don’t recognize true talent when they see it. And that’s fine. I’m not bitter. My time will come.”
“Serpine tried to bring the Faceless Ones back,” Valkyrie managed to say. Her fingers were burning, and the muscles in her legs were screaming at her. “We stopped him. We’ll stop you, too.”
He laughed. “What, you think I want the old gods to walk the Earth once again? Is that it? You think Nefarian Serpine was my leader? I’m not one of those nut-bag disciples, all right? I’m my own man.”
Valkyrie had one chance, but she needed to be calm to take advantage of it. Her powers, limited though they were, were Elemental—the manipulation of earth, air, fire, and water. But at this stage of her training they didn’t work when she was panicking.
“So if you don’t want the Faceless Ones to return,” she said, “what do you want? Why are you doing this?”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s grown-up stuff. I just want a little appreciation for who I am, that’s all. That’s not much to ask, is it? But of course, you wouldn’t know. You’re just a kid.” He shrugged. “Oh well. Time to die.”
He reached down to shove her.
“Have you killed anyone?” she asked quickly.
“What? Did you miss what I said, about turning murder into an art form?”
“But you haven’t actually killed anyone yet, have you? I read your file.”
He glowered. “Technically, yeah, all right, maybe I haven’t, but tonight’s the night. You’re going to be my first.”
She readied herself, controlled her breathing. “Find the space where everything connects,” she murmured.
Scapegrace frowned. “What?”
Valkyrie kicked upward, taking her right hand from the outcrop and feeling the air against her palm. She pushed at it the way she’d been taught, and it shimmered and hit Scapegrace, throwing him off his feet. Valkyrie clutched at the edge of the parapet, her legs swinging in open air. She grunted and pulled herself up, then flung her left arm across the edge and hauled herself the rest of the way.
Valkyrie got to her feet, her arms and legs trembling after the strain, and moved away from the edge. The wind whipped her dark hair across her face.
Scapegrace was already getting up, and she saw anger seep into his features. She clicked her fingers, generating a spark that she caught in her hand. She tried to focus, tried to build it into a flame, but Scapegrace was coming at her like a freight train.
She jumped and thrust out both feet. Her boots slammed into his chest, and he hit the ground again and went sprawling.
He turned to her just as she lashed a kick into his jaw. His body twisted and he tumbled back, came up to his feet, then lost his balance, fell again. He spat blood and glared.
“You little brat,” he snarled. “You uppity, sneaky little brat. You don’t know who you’re messing with, do you? I am going to be the greatest killer the world has ever
known.” He stood up slowly, wiping his sleeve across his burst lip. “When I’m finished with you, I’m going to deliver your mutilated, bloody corpse to your masters, as a warning. They sent you up against me, alone. Next time they’re going to have to send a battalion.”
Valkyrie smiled, and Scapegrace’s anger flared. “What the hell is so funny?”
“First of all,” she said, her confidence growing, “they’re not my masters. I don’t have a master. Second, they don’t need a battalion to take you down. And third—and this really is the most important point—whoever said I came alone?”
Scapegrace frowned, turned, saw someone walking up behind him—a skeleton in a black suit—and he tried to attack, but a gloved fist hit his face, a foot hit his shin, and an elbow slammed into his chest. He fell in an awkward heap.
Skulduggery Pleasant turned to Valkyrie. “You all right?”
“I’ll kill you both!” Scapegrace howled.
“Hush,” Skulduggery said.
Scapegrace launched himself forward and Skulduggery moved in to him, grabbed his outstretched arm, and spun him around, then abruptly cut him off by slamming a forearm into his throat. Scapegrace flipped in midair, landed painfully.
Skulduggery turned to Valkyrie again.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Really.”
Scapegrace had his hands to his face. “I think you broke my nose!”
They ignored him.
“He talks a lot,” Valkyrie said, “but I don’t think he knows what all the words mean.”
Scapegrace leaped up. “I am the Killer Supreme! I make murder into an art form!”
Skulduggery hit him again, and Scapegrace did a little twirl before falling.
“Vaurien Scapegrace,” he said, “by the power endowed unto me under the Sanctuary Rule of Justice, I am placing you under arrest for the attempted murder of Alexander Remit and Sofia Toil in Oregon, Cothurnus Ode and Armiger Fop in Sydney, Gregory Castallan and Bartholomew—”
Scapegrace tried one last desperate attack, which Skulduggery cut short by punching him very hard on the nose. The Killer Supreme wobbled, and he collapsed and started crying.
About the Author
DEREK LANDY lives near Dublin. Before writing his children’s story about a sharply dressed skeleton detective, he wrote the screenplays for a zombie movie and a little thriller in which everybody dies.
As a blackbelt in Kenpo Karate, he has taught countless children how to defend themselves, in the hopes of one day building his own private munchkin army. He firmly believes that they await his call to strike against his enemies (he doesn’t actually have any enemies but he’s assuming they’ll show up sooner or later).
The reason Derek writes his own biographical blurb is so that he can finally refer to himself in the third person without looking pompous or insane.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
Praise for the Skulduggery Pleasant series
“Readers looking for a mix of magic and action will find it here.”
—School Library Journal
“Stephanie Edgley has always yearned for something more than the ordinary life she leads. Derek Landy has written a delightful book about a young girl who realizes she’s been a heroine waiting to happen all along.”
—Children’s Literature
“Quite simply, this book is designed to appeal on every level. Stephanie displays wisdom and courage beyond her years. A big hit.”
—VOYA (starred review)
“Deadly hand-to-hand combat nasty villains, magical derring-do, and traitorous allies will keep readers turning the pages, but it is the dynamic duo of Stephanie and Skulduggery who provide the real magic. Give this one to fans of Eoin Colfer’s Artemis Fowl books or to anyone who likes a dash of violence and danger served up with the magic.”
—School Library Journal
“Landy gives the term ‘deadpan humor’ a whole new meaning; readers who prefer their heroes laconic and their action nonstop are in for a wild ride.”
—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
“A much-needed twist to the mystery/fantasy genre … the author just may have invented a new genre: the screwball fantasy.”
—The New York Times Book Review
“Fantasy buffs pining for the now-vanquished Voldemort will enjoy this tale of good versus evil.”
—ALA Booklist
Also by Derek Landy
Skulduggery Pleasant: Playing with Fire
Look for:
Skulduggery Pleasant: The Faceless Ones
Copyright
Harper Trophy® is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers.
Scepter of the Ancients
Text copyright © 2007 by Derek Landy
Illustrations copyright © 2007 by Tom Percival
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © AUGUST 2010 ISBN: 978-0-062-04387-0
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2008942535
ISBN 978–0–06–173155–6 (pbk.)
09 10 11 12 13 LP/CW 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Harper Trophy edition, 2008
First American Edition, 2007
Previously published as Skulduggery Pleasant in 2007.
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Derek Landy, Scepter of the Ancients
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