by Derek Landy
“He bound my magic,” Abyssinia said, clutching her shoulder, blood running down her arm.
“Yeah, yeah,” Valkyrie muttered, hauling her to her feet and dragging her on.
Abyssinia wouldn’t stop poking at the bullet wound.
“Quit it,” Valkyrie whispered, slapping her hand down.
The woodland was dense where they were, and completely silent. The only sounds were the gunshots, the screams, the shouted orders coming from the naval base. Every creature in the woodland was keeping their head down.
“How did he do that?” Abyssinia asked. “How was he able to bind my magic?”
“You’ve got Destrier making cool new weapons for you, right?” Valkyrie whispered. “Blackbrook obviously has someone else making cool new weapons for them, too. Now keep your voice down.”
“Good advice,” someone said, and Valkyrie whirled and cursed as Skulduggery emerged from the darkness.
He crossed to Abyssinia, sitting with her back against a tree, and peered at the sigils glowing from the black ink.
“Huh,” he said softly. “Projectile binding sigils. That’s deeply unsettling.”
“Valkyrie saved me,” Abyssinia told him.
“That was very nice of her,” Skulduggery said. “I think, to pay her back, you should go to prison for the rest of your life.”
Pale and sweating with the pain, Abyssinia managed a smile. “You wouldn’t put me in prison, my love. You have too much fun with me out in the world.”
“You’re responsible for everything that’s happened tonight,” Skulduggery said. “Whatever might have been between us at some stage in the past means nothing, do you understand me? You came here to murder innocent people.”
“Only mortals.”
“They’re still people.”
“Only barely.”
“You would have murdered the First Wave kids, too,” Valkyrie reminded her. “But it looks like you were double-crossed. By President Flanery, of all people.”
Abyssinia grunted. “And I was all set to double-cross him. I had everything planned out.”
“Let me guess,” Skulduggery said. “You kill him on live television, yes?”
That got a chuckle. “You know me so well. The plan was he would sit in the Oval Office and make his announcement to the world that evil sorcerers had attacked the brave sailors of Naval Magazine Whitley – and then I would set off the bomb beneath his feet. Every living thing within a three-kilometre radius of the White House would have had their lives drained from them in an instant. It would have been glorious.”
Valkyrie stared at her. “Why? Just … why?”
“Sacrifices must be made,” Skulduggery said. “Isn’t that right, Abyssinia? With Flanery gone, Vice-president Tucker would take over – and I bet you’ve taken up residence in his mind, haven’t you?”
“Am I that predictable? With Tucker in charge, I could control the mortal response. You see? I would control both sides of the war. I would guarantee a victory with the minimum loss of life.”
“But Flanery got there first,” Skulduggery said.
“He did. When I wasn’t able to locate Tucker in the last few days, I should have suspected that something was wrong. I just didn’t think Flanery to be so cunning.”
“Don’t feel too bad,” Skulduggery said. “He’s had help.” He looked at Valkyrie. “We need an idea of what’s going on and how many we’re dealing with.”
Valkyrie started walking. “I can do that.”
He held up a hand. “You can do that from here.”
She frowned. “You want me to do it psychically? Skulduggery, come on, I haven’t the first idea how to do that.”
“You didn’t know how to read people’s minds, either,” Abyssinia said, “but you managed that, didn’t you? Sit down.”
Valkyrie hesitated, then did so. She closed her eyes.
“Reach out,” said Abyssinia, “just like you do when you read a mind. But, instead of focusing on one person, you’re allowing yourself to take more in. It’s going to be scary; you’re going to want to block it out. Resist that urge.”
“I don’t think it’s working,” Valkyrie murmured.
“It will,” said Abyssinia. “It’s like talking to someone in a crowded room. You can concentrate on that one voice, or you can sit back, and let all those other voices in, too. Can you hear them?”
“Yes,” Valkyrie whispered.
“Without latching on to any of those voices, who can you hear?”
“Sorcerers,” Valkyrie murmured. It was hard to maintain this link that had formed between her and her surroundings. The more she grasped at it, the further it slipped. She relaxed, and let it flow through her. “I don’t know them. They’re frightened. Angry. Excited. Mortals. The Blackbrook guys. Scared but … intent. Disciplined.”
“Go further,” Abyssinia said.
“The kids,” Valkyrie said. “First Wave kids. They’re terrified. Tanith and Dexter, they’re with them. They’re in trouble. They’re fighting.”
“Razzia,” said Abyssinia. “Nero. Can you sense them?”
“They’re alive,” Valkyrie said. “Razzia’s hurt. She … she knows she’s dying.”
Abyssinia’s voice caught. “My poor girl.”
Valkyrie searched for the Darkly brothers. Her head was pounding. She was about to give up when she found them.
She opened her eyes. It took a moment for her vision to clear.
“Valkyrie?” Skulduggery prompted.
She stood. “Auger’s hurt. Omen’s in trouble.”
“I’ll help them.”
“You stay with Abyssinia,” Valkyrie said, heading for the base. “I’ll go.”
Naval Magazine Whitley was strangely quiet for a base under attack.
The bodies of Coldheart convicts, and a few Blackbrook contractors, lay in the open like spilled rubbish. Valkyrie kept away from the brightly lit areas, stayed close to the walls of the administrative buildings and kept moving.
A piece of wall sprang at her and she ducked, darting behind a parked car. The rear windscreen exploded. She crawled towards the front, then got to her knees and risked a peek. Immediately, she ducked again, and the next bullet punched through the bonnet and thunked into the engine.
Keeping low, Valkyrie moved to the back again, settling into a sprinter’s crouch. She took a few breaths to ready herself, energy crackling around her, and then pushed off.
She ran for the corner and she could feel the rifle sights tracking her, catching her, and before the finger squeezed the trigger she lifted off, diving into the air, swooping up and looping round and coming at the armoury from the opposite angle. The sniper on the roof was tracking her lightning trail. He dropped his rifle, going for his pistol instead, and she landed in front of him and rolled and came up in a charge, her shoulder slamming into his chest.
They fell back, the pistol spinning off somewhere. He shoved her off and tried to get up, but Valkyrie leaped on his back. Her arm went round his throat and her legs went round his waist and she tightened her hold. She held it. His struggles weakened.
She heard gunshots close by.
She abandoned the choke and jumped up. He gasped, turned over, and she hit him full force with a shock stick. He went to sleep and she returned the stick to her back as she ran to the edge of the roof.
Omen and Auger.
Auger was hurt. Omen was helping him run between the warehouses. Behind them, Blackbrook contractors swarmed.
It was happening. It wasn’t exactly as she had seen in the vision – that had taken place in a town – but it was close enough. And she knew what would happen next, unless she stopped it.
Valkyrie sprang from the roof.
There were five contractors. She’d never stop all of them from firing. She changed direction, pulling her hood up and the mask down. It solidified round her face.
She landed beside the Darkly boys and lunged in front of them as the contractors opened fire. Bullets slammed i
nto her. She glanced over her shoulder, saw Omen dragging Auger on. A few more steps and they’d be round the corner.
The contractors advanced. Still firing. Bullets peppered her legs, her belly, her chest. They jabbed at her shoulders and arms. They hammered at her head.
She was forced to step back under the barrage. Her knees were weakening.
Another glance, just as the brothers disappeared round the corner. Now Valkyrie could bring her arms in to protect her head as she shut her eyes and sank down, making herself as small as possible as the contractors began to surround her.
There was a slight lull. She heard magazines being ejected.
She looked up and flung out her arms and lightning danced on the tips of her splayed fingers. It reached across to the first contractor and immediately to the next and then it joined with the lightning that was reaching to the contractor on the other side, and this all happened one by one and yet all at once and suddenly all those contractors were being flung backwards off their feet. They landed and rolled.
And started to get up.
Valkyrie kicked the nearest one in the head. She did the same to the next one. She tore the gun away from the third one and swung it so hard into his helmet that he collapsed and didn’t move.
She turned. The last two contractors were standing and about to open fire.
And then the Darkly boys tackled them from behind.
It was a mad scramble for Omen, but Auger spun with elbows and kicks, and in a moment both contractors were unconscious.
Omen got up. “I had him,” he said.
“Course you did,” said his brother.
“You’re shot,” Valkyrie said to Auger.
“I’m OK,” he responded. “I mean, obviously, I’m not, and it hurts like hell, but I’ll be OK until I get to a medic. Where should we go?”
“This way,” Valkyrie said, starting to walk. “Stay close to me.”
They got back to the barracks. Tanith and Dexter arrived at the same time, escorting the First Wave kids, who looked scared and stupid and ashamed. They avoided looking at Omen and Auger as they approached.
Whitley was quiet. No guns were firing. Nobody was shouting. The enemy contractors, and the convicts, appeared to be down. Razzia had manoeuvred herself into a sitting position against the flagpole.
Skulduggery emerged from the woodland. Abyssinia came with him, clutching her injured arm. The ink round her torso was starting to flake off, but the binding sigil still glowed. She ran to Razzia’s side.
“My beautiful girl,” she said, dropping to her knees. “What did they do to you?”
Razzia coughed up some blood. “Reckon they killed me, fair dinkum …” She laughed. “Fair dinkum,” she repeated softly. “Man, I love being Australian …”
“We’ll make them pay,” Abyssinia said. “I’m going to rip out Martin Flanery’s spine.”
“That’s if you can find it,” Razzia replied, and laughed again.
Abyssinia brushed a strand of hair out of Razzia’s face. “They’re all going to die,” she promised.
“It’s over, Abyssinia,” Skulduggery said. “All of it.”
Abyssinia shook her head. “My destiny will not be denied.”
“You don’t have a destiny. You may have the blood of the Faceless Ones in your veins, but so do a billion other people.”
Abyssinia stood. “I’m on a different level.”
“No, you’re not. I’ve been doing some digging in the last few days. Caisson and Solace … they had children.”
Abyssinia blinked. “Caisson didn’t tell me that.”
“They were together for a hundred and fifty-nine years. As far as I can tell, they had a lot of children.”
Razzia managed a smile. “Look at that. You’re a grandma.”
Abyssinia had a weird, faltering smile on her face that disappeared completely when Skulduggery continued.
“Damocles Creed has been searching for the Child of the Faceless Ones for centuries. You know that, right? It brings me no pleasure to tell you that he got his hands on one of your grandchildren, and he Activated her.”
“No,” said Abyssinia.
“She’s Kith now. She’s standing somewhere with all the others.”
“Then I will end his life as surely as—”
“You’re missing my point,” Skulduggery said. “If you had any special blood in your veins, your grandchildren would have it, too. When Creed Activated her, she would have become the Child of the Faceless Ones. Instead, she became just another Kith.”
“I am the Princess of the Darklands. My father—”
“Was an extremely powerful sorcerer,” Skulduggery said, “far beyond the capabilities of anyone around him. Until Mevolent rose up. Your father was powerful, Abyssinia, but he wasn’t a King of the Darklands. There’s no such thing. Everything you’ve done has been based on the idea that you’re special, that you’re destined for greatness, destined to lead. Maybe he lied to you, or maybe his father lied to him. That’s the trouble with family legends. Who knows how true they are? Who knows how warped they’ve become as they’ve travelled down through the generations?”
“My family is royalty.”
“Your family is powerful. But that’s not the same thing.”
“No. No, you’re wrong. I know who I am. I can feel it in my blood.” Abyssinia took hold of the band of ink that dimmed her power. It started to tear.
“Abyssinia, stop,” Skulduggery said, stepping forward. Valkyrie did, too. And Tanith. And Dexter.
“I can’t let you stand in my way,” Abyssinia responded. “None of you.” The ink tore further. It was about to come off.
Skulduggery pulled his gun. “Don’t make me do it. Don’t make me kill you.”
Abyssinia gripped the last threads of ink with both hands, and smiled. “You won’t kill me, my love. Not again.”
He thumbed back the hammer.
Abyssinia tore the ink apart and Skulduggery fired and Abyssinia’s head snapped back.
And then she righted herself and healed the wound and laughed. “Told you,” she said, and looked at them all. “So … who’s going to throw the first punch?”
Valkyrie rolled to a stop.
“Huh,” she said.
Skulduggery was down. Tanith was down. Dexter was down. Now it was only Valkyrie, trying her best to get up.
She stood. OK. Good start. She was on the pier. She could hear the ocean behind her.
Abyssinia walked up, unhurried. Valkyrie gathered her strength, and went to meet her.
Abyssinia hit her and it was like a mountain picked up a freight train and used it as a bat, because the world cracked and juddered and Valkyrie was moving backwards and sideways all at the same time.
She shook it off. Tried to. The grogginess lingered as she worked to convince her body that everything was OK. She didn’t think it believed her.
Abyssinia was circling. Valkyrie didn’t like that. She didn’t like being the prey in any scenario.
She reached out with a streak of lightning that spun Abyssinia in place, but, when she charged, Abyssinia was ready. Valkyrie missed her grab entirely, and was rewarded with a wrecking ball of a punch to the ribs that not even the suit could protect against. She tried to back off, but Abyssinia wasn’t finished with her. A pair of jabs rocked her brain in her skull, and a lazy kick to the chest sent her to the ground.
Abyssinia smiled down at her. “Don’t feel bad. You’ve never faced anyone like me before.”
Valkyrie believed it. Nevertheless, she got up. Because she was that stupid.
She caught Abyssinia with a sustained blast of lightning, and, before she could respond, Valkyrie went at her with the shock sticks. They beat an impossible rhythm against her head, her arms, her torso, her knees, an impossible rhythm that Valkyrie tried to sustain, but her ribs, and surely there were one or two that had been broken by that punch, were screaming at her to stop.
So she backed off, the shock sticks glowing brightly
in her hands. Abyssinia licked at her lower lip. Blood glistened on her tongue.
“Ow,” she said.
This wasn’t going to work. If Valkyrie had any chance of beating her, she needed a running start. Or maybe a flying one.
She returned the sticks to her back and magic burst from her in crackling coils as she shot into the air. Abyssinia had hit her like a freight train and a wrecking ball. Valkyrie planned to combine the two and return the favour. She glanced down to make sure Abyssinia was still in position, standing there on the pier.
Instead, Abyssinia was flying next to her, and grinning.
Before Valkyrie could do anything more than jerk back in surprise, Abyssinia put on an extra spurt of speed and flew past her, cracking her fists into Valkyrie’s chin as she went.
Valkyrie spun, fell, tumbled. The ground came for her.
Energy crackled and she pulled up, skimming the road beside the warehouses. She tried to rise above a parked jeep, but her foot caught at the edge and she cursed as she went sprawling over the roof and crunched to the pavement on the other side.
She lay there, in pain, waiting until she could breathe again. She turned on to her back. Abyssinia stood on the jeep roof.
“You can fly,” Valkyrie muttered.
Abyssinia gave her another smile. “My father could fly. My father could do many things. Which means I can do many things.”
“Yeah?” Valkyrie said, letting her hand flop back so that it was touching the jeep. “Can you dance?”
Her lightning passed through the metal frame and locked Abyssinia’s legs straight while the rest of her seized up and trembled for several seconds, before she toppled backwards, falling to the street on the other side of the jeep.
Not even allowing herself a moment to savour that small, petty victory, Valkyrie got to her feet. Slowly.
“You’re a sneaky one,” said Abyssinia, smoothing down her hair. She was already standing. Of course she was.