“So we have our bait once again. How fares the trap?”
“That bit’s trickier.”
“I’m sure.”
“Darquesse doesn’t have an obvious weakness as far as we can see,” Skulduggery said. “Like anything, if we hit her enough times, she’ll eventually die, but the question then becomes what shall we hit her with?”
“Dear Liza,” Gracious mumbled.
“The weapon Mevolent used,” China said. “That had an effect on her, yes?”
“It drained her power for a few seconds at a time,” said Valkyrie. “But we have no idea how it worked.”
“Magical technology has been flourishing in that reality for the last two hundred years,” Skulduggery added. “They’re far more advanced than we are. We’ve no hope of replicating the magic-sucker.”
China’s lip curled. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
Valkyrie nodded. “That’s the technical term.”
“What about the Sensitives? Have they seen anything new?”
“I’ve just spoken with Cassandra,” said Saracen. “They’ve been having the same dreams and visions. Details change all the time, but the result is always the same. Death and destruction.”
China sat back down. “I want you all to understand something. I’ve been doing this job for a little over a month, and I like people doing what I tell them. It’s fun. And I don’t want the world ending just when I’m having fun.
“We use Erskine Ravel to lure Darquesse here. Once she’s here, we engage her in combat. We throw everything we have at her – sorcerers, Cleavers … Dusk and his Exiled will be a part of our strategy, as, of course, will the God-Killer weapons. If they take care of the problem, wonderful. We can all go home early. But our main objective is to keep Darquesse busy. Keep her distracted. Valkyrie … this means you will more than likely encounter her on a one-to-one basis.”
Valkyrie nodded.
China sighed. “Which means you’ll probably need something to fight her with.”
“I have magic again.”
“But it hasn’t manifested, has it? You feel it, but you don’t know what it is. You might discover you possess the magical ability to talk to goldfish. Your magic might manifest as an offensive ability, or it may not. But you need something.”
She nodded to someone out of sight and Tipstaff appeared from nowhere, holding out the Deathtouch Gauntlet for Valkyrie to take.
She glared. “I’m not wearing that.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” said China.
“What good is it going to do me?” Valkyrie said. “I’d need to get right up close to Darquesse to use it, and she’d kill me with a slap.”
“I may have something to offer in that department,” said Solomon Wreath.
China looked at him. “Go on.”
“Twelve hundred years ago, the highest Clerics of the Necromancy Order got together and constructed a sigil which bestows upon its user incredible strength and complete and utter invulnerability. Are you aware of this sigil, Grand Mage?”
“Of course,” said China. “The Meryyn Sigil – elegant and intricate, its beauty is marred only by the simple fact that it doesn’t work.”
“They were Necromancers,” Wreath smiled. “You really think they’d let one of their secrets out without keeping something back? Physical activation is necessary in order for the sigil to start working. But the High Clerics, in their wisdom, decided that strength and invulnerability were gifts to be used only by those who had proved themselves worthy Necromancers – sorcerers who have mastered death. They thought the future would be full of such people.”
“How many have there been?” Valkyrie asked.
“In the last twelve hundred years?” Wreath said. “None.”
“And how does this help us?” asked Saracen.
“It doesn’t help us,” said Wreath. “It helps Valkyrie.”
“Wait,” she said. “When you say sigil … you mean a tattoo, don’t you? No. I had one in the vision and I was wearing that gauntlet and there’s no way I’m using either of them. No way.”
“You might have to,” said China.
All Valkyrie’s old objections reared up, but one by one the arguments against them knocked them down before she had a chance to utter a word. Not wearing the gauntlet, not having the sigil … there was no guarantee that would be enough to save her family. In fact, without them, her family could even die that bit sooner.
“It doesn’t even matter,” Valkyrie said. “It’s activated by someone who’s mastered death, right? Well, that’s not me.”
“No,” said Wreath, “but there’s no rule that says the person who wears the sigil has to activate it. You can, for instance, send someone else to activate it. And if anyone here can be said to have mastered death, it’s Detective Pleasant.”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “What is involved in this activation?”
“I don’t actually know,” said Wreath. “There are three tests you’ll have to pass. I’m sure they’ll be no problem for you.”
“Where do I take these tests?”
“Meryyn ta Uul. Also known as the Necropolis, the City of the Dead, the City Beneath … I can take you there, if you’d like. Valkyrie stays where it’s safe, you pass the tests, activate the sigil, and suddenly she’s invulnerable.”
“For how long?” Valkyrie asked.
Wreath shrugged. “Long enough, I should think. If you truly intend to go up against Darquesse, though, you’ll need every advantage you can get.”
“Skulduggery,” China said, “if you’re OK undertaking the three tests in the Necropolis, I’ll get the specifications for the sigil and apply it to Valkyrie personally.”
Skulduggery nodded, looked to Wreath. “How long will you need?”
“A few hours,” Wreath answered. “I’ve never been to the Necropolis myself, so I’ll have to make enquiries. We may require advanced transport, though.”
“Fletcher will accompany you,” said China. “Valkyrie, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes. Please come to my chambers. Everyone else, get back to work.”
The group dispersed, and Skulduggery put his fingertips on the small of Valkyrie’s back, and guided her out of the room.
“I’m not happy,” she said.
“No? I thought you’d always wanted a tattoo.”
“Not. Happy.”
“Yes, well, I don’t blame you. But seeing as how you’re about to do everything possible to prepare yourself for the upcoming confronation, it is only good manners that I do likewise.”
She frowned. “Where are we …? Oh.”
They passed into the Old Sanctuary and walked in silence until they got to the Accelerator Room.
“Hello, Valkyrie,” the Engineer said. “Hello, Detective Pleasant. Are you here to deactivate the Accelerator?”
“Not yet,” said Skulduggery.
Valkyrie stayed by the door, making sure no one was going to walk in on them. She tried to keep her eyes from the spot where Stephanie had been killed, but her gaze kept dropping, kept picturing her there. Images surfaced of what her final few moments must have been like. To be that scared and that alone …
“You have three days, nineteen hours and one minute left,” the Engineer said. “Plenty of time to decide who will give their soul.”
“We’re not here to shut off the Accelerator,” Skulduggery said, “we’re here to use it. Is that possible?”
“Of course.”
“Would that affect the time we have left? From what I know of its processes, using it at this late stage could speed up the overload.”
“You are quite correct,” said the Engineer. “A full boost to your power would have a cumulative effect on the Accelerator’s systems. If you wish to avoid that, I can reduce the level to which your abilities are enhanced. Instead of you reaching one hundred per cent of enhancement, you would reach sixty-three per cent. Still a significant boost, if I do say so.”
Skuldugg
ery looked back at Valkyrie. “Thoughts?”
“Many and magnificent,” she said. “But you’re the one who reckons we need all the help we can get.”
“To start down this road, though,” Skulduggery said. “It’s dangerous.”
“The roads we take usually are.”
“You heard the lady,” Skulduggery said to the Engineer. “But before we do this, can I count on your discretion?”
“I am a robot,” said the Engineer. “I do not gossip. Please step into the Accelerator.”
“Actually, I’m going to stay out here,” Skulduggery said, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Tendrils of shadows seeped out from between his ribs. They collected in his outstretched hand, forming a spinning sphere of darkness that grew in mass the more the shadows flowed. Finally, the tendrils trailed off, and Lord Vile’s power drifted from Skulduggery’s hand to the Accelerator. It hovered over the dais, which began to tremble. A glow spread beneath the skin of the machine, and the sphere spun faster, expanding and contracting at an astonishing rate.
The glow in the Accelerator became a light that hurt Valkyrie’s eyes. She looked up and down the corridor. No one coming. She examined her own shadow, stark against the wall. Then the shadow began to fade as the light behind her grew dim.
She looked back. The Accelerator had powered down, but the sphere was still spinning so fast it looked to be in constant danger of unravelling. She knew it was taking all of Skulduggery’s self-control to keep it in one piece.
It darted to Skulduggery’s hand. Now was the moment when it could all go horribly wrong. If the shadows morphed into armour and enveloped him, a supercharged Lord Vile would destroy this world just as readily as Darquesse.
Skulduggery’s head twitched.
The sphere broke apart into a thousand tendrils and Valkyrie’s heart lurched in dreadful and sudden fear – but the tendrils flowed up under Skulduggery’s sleeve, up his arm, making his jacket bulge. They twisted at his shirt collar, curled out of his eye sockets, and then he arched his back and it was like he inhaled, and the shadows were sucked back inside his ribcage.
“See?” Valkyrie said. “Told you it’d be fine.”
Skulduggery buttoned his shirt back up. “You told me no such thing.”
“Yeah, but I thought it. How does it feel?”
He fixed his tie, and brushed lint from his lapel. “It feels …” he said, “angry.”
“Yikes.”
“It was necessary. Even if I don’t have to draw on my Necromancer power for the three tests in Meryyn ta Uul, I dare say it’ll be handy for when we go up against Darquesse. Engineer, thank you very much for your help. And your discretion.”
The Engineer bowed, and they left.
Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery. “What are the chances of us just giving Ravel to Darquesse if she asks?”
“Slim. Ravel is the one thing we know she wants. Apart from that, we’re blind. We have no idea where she’s going to go or what she’s going to do because we don’t know what else is driving her.”
“I should know what she wants,” Valkyrie said. “I mean, shouldn’t I? I’m her. OK, I’m not her now, but surely I was in her mind long enough to pick up a few things. Right?”
“In theory.”
“So question me,” Valkyrie said, turning to him. “Go on. Interrogate me. I have the answer. I must have the answer. I just can’t recognise it. I don’t know what’s useful to you. Get it out of me.”
“Interesting,” Skulduggery said. “That might actually work. Very well, let’s give it a go. What does Darquesse want?”
“I have no idea,” said Valkyrie, then frowned. “That’s a terrible start.”
“It’s less than auspicious, I’m forced to admit,” Skulduggery said. “Valkyrie, Darquesse is you. She’s your dark side. Your bad mood. She’s still you, but she’s growing. Evolving.”
“Are you saying I’m not evolved?”
“She’s evolving beyond you. Into what? What is she becoming?”
“What we’ve always feared,” Valkyrie said, her voice so quiet it actually surprised her. “A god.”
“And what do gods do, given the chance?”
“They punish people.”
“Not all gods.”
“All the ones I’ve heard about,” she said. “The Faceless Ones were insane and ruthless and so mean and nasty that even though they can’t exist here in physical form, they still want to get back in just to punish us for kicking them out in the first place.”
“But Darquesse isn’t like that.”
“She wasn’t like that,” Valkyrie corrected. “She started off fine. She couldn’t understand why people were having visions of her destroying the world. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. But the more godlike she got, the less she cared about little things like people. She sees everything as forms of energy now. Life and death are the same thing.”
“So she doesn’t want to hurt us, exactly.”
“Well, maybe not, but she doesn’t view killing us as hurting us.”
“Is that why she wants to expand her mind?”
“She wants to learn more about matter and atoms and energy. She knows a lot, but it’s all … it’s instinctive. She doesn’t have the words to think it all the way through, and that’s what she’s after. When she has the words, when she has the framework to deal with all this, she’ll be able to do what she wants to do.”
“And what is that?”
“I don’t know. She’s growing, like you said. She’s evolving. She goes up against something, she figures out how to beat it or control it, and then she moves on to the next thing.”
“She’s after a challenge,” Skulduggery said.
“Yes,” said Valkyrie. “That’s when she’s happiest.”
“So what’s her biggest challenge?”
“It’s not us, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t know, I—”
“Don’t think about this, don’t try to anticipate, just answer. What is Darquesse building towards? What is she evolving to meet?”
“I don’t know,” Valkyrie said, exasperated. “The Faceless Ones, maybe?”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “What?”
Valkyrie’s eyes widened. “That’s it. That’s what she wants. She’s evolving until she can beat the Faceless Ones, and then she’ll find something else to fight. That’s her goal. It has to be. Right?”
“It’s definitely a challenge,” Skulduggery said.
“Does this help? How can this possibly help?”
“In order to defeat your enemy,” Skulduggery said, “first you must understand them. Up till now, we haven’t been able to do that. Now we can – and we can adapt our plan to fit.”
Valkyrie grinned. “I’m a genius.”
61
THE PLAN
he God-Killer dagger was heavy in his belt.
He could feel its entire weight, and had to resist the urge to constantly check to make sure it was staying in one place. One slip, after all, and that blade could nick him and then Sanguine would be no more.
It was a risk, carrying it. But it was even more of a risk to leave it behind.
Darquesse was fretting. No, fretting was maybe the wrong word. She was preoccupied. And puzzled. She couldn’t keep still, pacing through the small living room, muttering to herself and occasionally looking up. She hadn’t said much when she’d returned from that other dimension. All Sanguine knew was that she’d failed to bring Ravel back and that Mevolent had found some way to beat her. And that was not going down well.
“Like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Like that, and I was helpless. Helpless. Me. I’ve never heard of anything like it. I’m pretty sure Kenspeckle hadn’t, either. Argeddion, he might have been able to figure it out but … I didn’t even know that was possible.”
Sanguine watched her and didn’t say anything. He was glad of this sudden preoccupation. So far, she hadn’t said anyt
hing about Tanith’s escape, even though they all knew what he’d done. Vincent Foe and that creepy vampire sat across the room, and every so often Foe would glance at him. The vampire’s gaze never wavered.
Someone knocked on the door. Darquesse barely noticed.
“I’ll get it,” said Sanguine. He did his best to walk the way he always did, but the dagger was making every movement stiff. He went to the wall beside the door, pressed his head against it. The wall crumbled and he poked his head out the other side, saw Dexter Vex standing there.
“She in?” Vex asked.
“She is,” Sanguine answered.
He withdrew his head and opened the door, and Vex walked in like he owned the place. Sanguine followed him into the living room, and took up his usual spot by the window.
“You called?” Vex said to Darquesse.
She stopped pacing and looked up. There was a flicker of irritation on her face. “I did,” she said. “Hours ago. You’re late.”
Vex gave a small bow. “Apologies. I found it hard to tear myself away from praising you to the others. But I am here now, and I, like my fellow Remnants, exist only to serve. What dost thou will, my mistress?”
Darquesse peered at him. “Are you being cheeky, Dexter?”
The corner of Vex’s mouth twitched upwards in a smile. “Perhaps.”
“Normally I don’t mind cheeky,” said Darquesse, “but today I’m in a bad mood. I’m cranky. I’ve been offered a glimpse of my own vulnerability, and I didn’t like it. It’s a reminder that no matter how powerful you get, there’s always something out there that can topple you.”
“Wise words,” said Vex.
“When I return to full strength, I’ll be back to my usual charming self, but right now, I want you to shut up and do what I tell you. The Sceptre is hidden in Valkyrie’s house, probably her bedroom. It’s bonded to her baby sister so she won’t be able to use it, but even so, if it’s out there, it’s a threat. It’s something that can hurt me. Kill me. I cannot stand those things.”
The irrational part of Sanguine’s mind expected her to swing round and pounce on him, and he brought his hand closer to the dagger.