by Derek Landy
Mr. Bliss was dead.
Bile rose in her throat and she lunged to the corner, throwing up.
“They’re here, aren’t they?” Paddy asked.
She retched and spat and wiped her mouth. “Three of them,” she said.
He nodded. “I’ll get you your magic stick.”
He hurried to the bag. Valkyrie’s knees were weak. Her face was cold.
“If I die,” she said, “but we win, will you find my parents and tell them I’m sorry I put them through this, and that I love them?”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Paddy said as he walked over, holding out the Scepter. His eyes flickered to something behind her and she frowned, turned, saw nothing, and turned back as Paddy swung the Scepter into her face.
Valkyrie hit the wall and staggered. Paddy swung the Scepter again, and she managed to raise her arm to block it, but his fist came at her and her head snapped back and she fell.
She heard Tanith curse and looked up, lights dancing in front of her eyes. Tanith reached out to grab her sword, but Paddy smashed the Scepter onto her hand. Tanith screamed and Paddy got behind her, wrapped his arm around her throat, and hauled her off the chair. She tried to struggle, but she was much too weak, and after a few seconds, Paddy let her collapse.
Valkyrie’s consciousness rattled against darkness and light, and the side of her face was wet. She clicked her fingers, but nothing happened.
“I’d forgotten what it was like,” Paddy said, almost to himself. He put the Scepter on the table. “The struggle, I mean. Usually it’s quiet. It would have been quiet for you, but you wear those enchanted clothes. My blade wouldn’t have pierced them.” He had a knife in his hand. “It’ll pierce your throat though. Or your eyes.”
Valkyrie licked her lips and tasted blood.
“You killed the Teleporters,” she said, pushing herself up off the ground.
“I did.”
“You’re Batu.”
He pulled up his sleeve as he walked over to her, showing her the mark on the inside of his forearm.
“I am.”
Valkyrie stayed where she was, waited for him to get close, and then she flexed her fingers and splayed her hand, but she couldn’t feel the air, couldn’t feel where it connected, and Paddy, Batu, ran the blade along her hand and she cried out.
“Stupid girl,” he said, slashing at her neck. She stepped back and tripped, fell, and rolled. She clicked her fingers and nothing happened. Batu rushed her, and she barely managed to duck under him.
“You’re one of them,” she said, staying just out of reach.
“One of who? The Diablerie?” Batu darted forward, and she jumped back. He smiled and they circled each other. “I’m not some mindless drone, Valkyrie. Everything you see around you? All this death and madness and mayhem? The end of the world that’s about to happen? That’s all my work.
“When I was a young man, Trope Kessel told me all about the gateway, and I knew I had my chance. I brought the Diablerie back from nothing, and they were only too eager to accept me as their leader. For I had vision, and I could get information no one else could.
“Sorcerers would tell me their biggest secrets. Do you know why? Because I’m a mere mortal. Because they are far too arrogant to think that a mortal could pose a threat to gods like them.
“I was in their homes dozens of times before I killed them, drinking their tea and chatting and feeding their cats while they were away. The sheer domestic mundanity of it was appalling.
“Even you and the skeleton were fooled. I didn’t know precisely where the gate would open until you brought the boy in to find it for me. Thank you for that, by the way.”
A wave of dizziness swept over her, and Valkyrie stumbled. The knife jabbed, but her coat protected her. Batu was smiling as he closed in.
She kept away. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Magic,” he said. “My father was a sorcerer. So was my brother. But not me. I just didn’t have that spark, you know? But now, finally, it’s my turn.”
She shook her head. “You’re either born with it or you’re not. You can’t be given magic.”
“There are ways around everything.”
Valkyrie saw the glint in his eyes and she suddenly understood. “You’re going to offer yourself as a vessel.”
“Oh, you are clever.”
“You’re going to let a Faceless One take you over.”
“And then I’ll be brimming with magic that ordinary sorcerers would never even dream about. They’re not gods, Valkyrie. They’re as pathetic as the people you left behind in your old life. But me? I’ll be a true god.”
“But it won’t be you. Your personality will be wiped clean. Even your body will be changed. You’re not ever going to know what it’s like to use magic.”
“I’ll know,” said Batu softly. “There will be some part of me that stays, some part of me that joins with the Faceless One. I know it. I’m strong, you see? I was born without magic. I’ve had to be strong. My will is iron. I’m not going to be simply erased—not like the others.”
Valkyrie frowned. “You’re offering up the rest of the Diablerie as vessels too.”
“I didn’t want the Dark Gods wasting their time seeking out suitable candidates. I just decided to make it easy for them.”
He closed in on her again. Ignoring the pain from the cut, she smashed her elbow into his face, then grabbed his wrist with both hands and twisted.
Batu rammed his shoulder into her. They crashed back against the wall, and he got his hip against her and flipped her to the floor. He was an old man, but he was strong, and fast. Refusing to let go of the hand with the knife, she kicked at his leg and it buckled. She spun on her back and jammed her boot into his other leg. He collapsed on top of her, and she raised her knee to meet his face.
The knife clattered to the ground and she rolled out from under him, kicking the weapon out of his reach. He spat teeth and blood, and she moved to kick.
But he was faster than she’d anticipated. He hooked her kick to the outside and over his shoulder, and he rose and grabbed her jacket, and she was lifted off the ground. He carried her backward and slammed her onto the table. Valkyrie grabbed the Scepter with her left hand and he grabbed her wrist, keeping it away from him. Black lightning turned a part of the ceiling to dust.
She turned the Scepter toward him, but his hand moved from her wrist to the Scepter itself, and once again he diverted her aim. A section of wall crumbled.
Batu pressed against her, forcing the black crystal around. It glowed and spat lightning, hitting the corner of the table. The table collapsed and they fell, but their positions didn’t change. Batu was still on top, and the Scepter was now pointed directly at Valkyrie.
His face was frozen in a mask of hatred and determination. “End it,” he muttered through clenched and bloody teeth. “Save yourself the pain of watching the world die.”
She hit him in the ribs with her free hand, and he grunted. She hit him again, but his grip didn’t weaken. She tried pushing at the air, but nothing happened, and then she felt the gold ring on her finger.
The ring was bound. It had to be.
She curled the tip of her thumb against it. It was tight, but it moved, down her finger, and then she flicked it off and immediately felt the air against her palm.
She clicked her fingers and summoned a flame that burned fiercely into Batu’s side. He screamed and thrashed and dived off her, trying to smother the flames on his shirt. He scrambled up and fled, out through the hole in the wall.
Valkyrie turned over and got up. She had a massive headache and there was blood running down her face, but she seemed to be otherwise okay. She went to Tanith and moved her onto her side, into the recovery position they’d been taught at school, and once she’d done that, she realized that she wasn’t holding the Scepter anymore.
She looked back, scanning the ground desperately, but it wasn’t there. Batu had taken it. Cursing, she ran th
rough the hole after him, catching a glimpse as he disappeared into the trees.
Valkyrie tore after him.
Thirty-seven
FALLING INTO PLACE
BATU LED THAT wretch of a girl between the trees and then changed direction, keeping low. She had broken his nose and some of his teeth, and his left side was badly burned, but he couldn’t afford trivialities like revenge. Not now. He hid and watched her pass, then dug a shallow hole and dropped the Scepter into it. He covered it with earth and leaves and doubled back.
When he reached the yard and saw the massacre, he laughed.
A dozen Cleavers were already dead. They littered the ground, an ill-made carpet of broken bodies and blood. The Faceless One, its clothes burned and torn and hanging in shreds, its face blank and smooth and terrifying, walked slowly through them.
A trio of Cleavers lifted into the air, and their bodies folded back on themselves and caved inward. Their remains dropped, forgotten about. More Cleavers, their gray uniforms splattered with the blood of their colleagues, attacked with unceasing determination, but the blades of their scythes merely bounced off the skin of their enemy.
Batu turned as Murder Rose ran up to him and gripped his arm. “What have you done?” she raged. “You told us these marks would protect us! You said they’d shield us!”
“They are not shields,” Batu said, his voice calm despite the exhilaration he was feeling. “They are invitations.”
Rose stared at him, then turned and sprinted away. Batu watched her disappear into the trees.
A torrent of impossibilities flowed after her, making the trees creak and sway. He heard her scream, and then there was silence.
There was one more god out there, and Batu went to find it.
Thirty-eight
FROM ALL SIDES
VALKYRIE STOPPED and cursed. She’d lost him. There was no point going deeper into this wood—if Batu was ahead of her, which she doubted, he knew his surroundings a lot better than she did.
No, going deeper didn’t make any sense. Not for Batu. He’d want to see his great plan coming together, and that meant being where the action was.
There was a sudden sound behind her, and she turned as Remus Crux lurched out from behind a tree.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she snapped.
He held his left arm close to his body like it was hurt, and he was limping badly. He was sweating and seemed to be in a lot of pain. There was dried blood on his face.
“Are you okay? Remus? Did you see anyone run by here? An old man?”
“You’re under arrest,” he snarled as he dug his right hand into his pocket. Valkyrie lunged, catching his wrist just as he pulled out a small gun.
“Resisting arrest!” he cried as their struggle took them back against the tree.
She whacked her elbow into his injured arm and he yelled, and she twisted the gun from his grip and pushed herself off him. She threw the gun deep into the trees, and he snapped his palm. A wall of air slammed into her and she hurtled backward. Her shoulders hit the ground, and she tucked her chin to her chest as she flipped over gracelessly.
Crux was dragging his leg toward her, summoning a flame into his hand. “Assault on a Sanctuary official!” he screeched.
Valkyrie launched herself at him, smacking down his right hand as she punched him across the jaw, and he went staggering back.
“You could have broken my neck!” she shouted, and lashed a kick into his bad leg. Crux screamed and dropped to the ground, and Valkyrie stepped back, clutching her fist. She hoped she hadn’t broken it. Tanith was always telling her to use her elbows, not her knuckles. She really should have listened.
She looked down at him as he writhed and screamed and sobbed. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. She turned and ran back the way she had come.
She saw someone ahead, sitting against a tree trunk. Fletcher Renn. His shoulders were slumped forward and his head was down. His shirt was soaked in blood. His hair was matted.
He heard her and looked up slowly, as if every moment brought with it a new kind of pain.
“I helped them,” he said.
“I know. But now we need you to help us. Have you seen Paddy?”
He shook his head. “Haven’t seen anyone. I didn’t even fight them. They threatened me, they cut me, and that’s all it took. I always thought I’d be the hero, you know?” His laugh was brittle.
Valkyrie looked down at him. “I don’t mean to sound cruel,” she said, “but we don’t have time for this.”
“You want to get out of here? I’m gathering my strength to teleport somewhere, anywhere. Home, maybe. For some reason, I really want to go back to London right now.”
“You can’t leave. Paddy—you know that old man? He’s Batu. He’s the one behind all of this, and he has the Scepter. He’s probably already hidden it, or dropped it in a ditch or something. Fletcher, if I can’t find it, we’ll have to lure the Faceless Ones back through the gateway. We’re going to need you to open it.”
Fletcher stared at her, frowning. “Are you nuts? Opening it the first time wiped me out. I mean, if I could use my power, don’t you think I would have by now? Do you think I’m staying here because I’m brave? The moment I’m strong enough, I’m gone.”
“You can’t leave us. This is our chance to save everyone. This is the only chance we’re going to get.”
“It’s not my fight.”
“It’s everyone’s fight.”
“When the other sorcerers hear about this, they’ll all come running to help, from all over the world. They’ll stop them. Not me. I’m just a kid.” He looked at her. “You should come with me.”
“I can’t. If you won’t help us, finding the Scepter is our only chance.”
“You’ll be killed.”
“Apparently, that’s been coming for a while now,” she said, getting to her feet.
She gave him a chance. She stood there long enough for him to change his mind, but he didn’t. He just sat there.
She ran on, emerging from the tree line in time to see Skulduggery battling the Faceless One. He pushed at the air, but it was no use—the air just rippled and folded around the Faceless One harmlessly.
The female Necromancer attacked from behind, swirling her cloak of shadows. The Faceless One extended its hand, and her body turned inside out.
It kept walking, and Skulduggery backed off, and it raised its arm to him.
Then it saw her, and it stopped. Its body turned toward her.
“Valkyrie!” Skulduggery shouted. “Run!”
Thirty-nine
CRISIS OF FAITH
IT WAS COMING for him.
Jaron Gallow could feel it above him, feel it drawing closer. The mark, the one that Batu had made them all burn into their arms—it was a beacon. No matter where he hid or how fast he ran, the Faceless One would find him.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He tore off his belt as he ran, wrapped it around his biceps, and pulled it tight. Already he could feel his circulation being cut off. By the time he reached the yard beside the farmhouse, his left hand was numb.
He dropped to his knees and grabbed a Cleaver’s fallen
scythe. He laid his forearm flat on the ground and pressed the curved blade to just below his elbow. He was breathing fast and sweating, and he couldn’t afford the luxury of doubt.
There was a rush of air and his ears popped. It had found him.
He closed his eyes and bellowed, forcing the scythe down on his forearm. The blade cut through flesh and bone in one smooth movement, and his bellow turned to a scream.
He collapsed, clutching the bloody stump to his body, and when he opened his eyes, he saw his severed arm lying next to him, and the Faceless One was gone.
Forty
KILLING GODS
CHINA FOUND Crux sitting on the ground between the woods and the meadow. His head was lowered and his arms were crossed over his body. He was hurt—she could see that as she walked toward him
. There was no one else around. There was no one to see. “Hello, Remus,” China said. He looked up. His pupils were dilated and he was muttering to himself.
“What happened to you?” she asked gently.
“You’re all in on it,” he mumbled.
Her blue eyes narrowed. “Did you see them, Remus? Did you see those things? Those flying things? Did you look at them?”
He tutted and shook his head and held himself tighter. His mind was broken. He must have looked up as the third Faceless One passed by in search of its vessel.
Which would make this so much easier.
China hunkered down, laying a comforting arm across his shoulders. “Did you tell anyone my secret, Remus? Anyone at all?”
“Secret?” he whispered.
“I won’t be mad.” She smiled. “I promise I won’t. Who did you tell? About Skulduggery?”
“Skulduggery …” Crux said, trying to remember.
“Did you tell anyone?”
He turned his head to think, and his jacket opened, and she glimpsed gold.
“What have you got there?” she asked softly, reaching in slowly. His hands closed around it, and she saw it was the Scepter.
“Mine.”
“Yes, it is yours, Remus. It’s so pretty. Can I see?”
“It’s mine. I found it. Saw a man dig a hole. Saw him dig. And then she came.”
“Who came?”
“The girl. She hurt me.”
“She’s a mean girl. Can I see that? I’ll give it right back, I promise.”
Reluctantly, Crux released his hold, and China took the Scepter from him and smiled again.
“We’re friends, aren’t we? Did you tell anyone about my secret? I’m not going to be mad.”
He shook his head. “No. No. Told no one.”
“Good boy.” She took a long, thin blade from the sheath on her boot. “You’re confused, aren’t you? I’m going to make the confusion go away. I promise.”
“Give it back now.”
“I’m afraid not.”
He snarled and turned suddenly. The rock in his hand cracked against her head. China fell back, and Crux tried getting up on his broken leg.