Skulduggery Pleasant: Kingdom of the Wicked

by Derek Landy

  “And what’s the phrase?” Strom asked.

  “We don’t know,” Valkyrie said. “But if we find Walden D’Essai in that other reality, we could ask him.”

  “What makes you think he’s even alive over there? And what makes you think you’d be able to find him?”

  “Mevolent’s City is thriving. Every piece of progress is reserved for the people inside those walls. Someone like Walden, with the work he does and the mind he has... he’d be in the City. Mevolent wouldn’t let someone like that go.”

  Ravel looked at her. “You have a point. OK then, primary objective is to retrieve the Sceptre. Secondary objective is to find Argeddion’s traumatic phrase, in case we can use it to temporarily disable him.”

  “Third objective,” she said, “is to get my reflection back.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Ravel. “Reflections don’t feel pain if they don’t have to, and no Sensitive will be able to read its thoughts. It won’t tell them anything about where it’s from.”

  “I’m not worried about what it might say, I’m worried about it. I don’t want it over there alone.”

  “Valkyrie—”

  “I don’t want to hear that the reflection is not a real person. I know it isn’t. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it to be safe.”

  Ravel looked at Skulduggery for help.

  “I’ve given up trying to convince her otherwise,” Skulduggery said. “Her reflection is unique. It’s not like the obvious fakes we’ve seen before.”

  “But it’s still not a person,” said Ravel.

  “It is to me,” Valkyrie responded.

  He sighed. “Fine. Recovering the reflection is your third objective – but only if it doesn’t put you at risk. And in exchange, Valkyrie, we’ll need a Sensitive to build a wall in your mind as soon as possible.”

  Valkyrie frowned. “What? Why?”

  “We can’t let Argeddion read your thoughts if you encounter him again. The Sceptre must remain secret.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Valkyrie said. “Right.”

  “We’ll need the best. Luckily, we’d already called her in for any help she might give us on breaking the psychic link between Argeddion and Lament’s group. Let’s leave them to it.”

  They dispersed, and standing behind them was a woman with long grey hair and a kind face.

  “Hello, Valkyrie,” said Cassandra Pharos. She came forward, gently clasped Valkyrie’s hands between hers. She had a very serene way about her that would have been comforting if Valkyrie’s mind wasn’t suddenly full of images of the dream whisperer she’d burned. “How are you? You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you.”

  “Well, a lot’s happened,” Valkyrie said. “You look great.”

  “Flattery means little to a woman of my age, my dear. But it still works, so thank you.” Her smile dipped. “Now that I have you, I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Finbar lately?”

  Valkyrie shook her head. “I was kind of hoping you had.”

  “Sadly, no. I’ll be honest, I’m getting worried about him. Being used by the Remnants like that could have... damaged him. Permanently.”

  “Maybe he just needs more time. It might even be doing him some good, just living a normal life for a change.”

  “Maybe,” Cassandra said, “maybe. But we have more pressing matters to deal with, do we not? You need a wall built in your mind.”

  “Apparently so.”

  “I don’t want you to worry about this. I won’t be able to read your thoughts while I’m constructing it, and it’s not going to affect you in any way once it’s in. All it does is form a protective shield should anyone try to enter your mind without permission. It’s entirely painless. Just lie back and close your eyes. That’s it. I want you to relax now. Just feel the tension drain from your body...”

  They drove back to Haggard through darkness. There was something wrong for the entire journey, and Valkyrie only realised what it was when they pulled up at the pier. She turned to him. “Was there somebody sitting in my seat?”

  “Hmm?” he said. “Oh, yes. Elsie O’Brien. Very nice girl. Terrible self-image. She should take lessons from you on confidence. I think you’d do her a lot of good.”

  “Never mind all that, Skulduggery. You let her adjust my seat.”

  “She’s not as tall as you.”

  “But you let her adjust my seat.”

  “I did, yes.”

  She stared at him.

  He hesitated. “I’m really sorry?”

  “I’m gone for not even twenty-four hours and you let someone adjust my seat? What, were you looking for a new partner already? Am I that easily replaced?”

  “I take back what I said. Elsie shouldn’t talk to you. You’re quite obviously unhinged.”

  Valkyrie spent a minute trying to get the seat back to its original position. She sat back in it, frowning. “I don’t even know if this is how I left it. Was I this far back?”

  “It looks right.”

  “I had this perfect, you know.”

  “I’m dreadfully sorry. Next time, Elsie can run alongside me as I drive.”

  She folded her arms and sulked.

  He patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry I let someone adjust your seat. And I’m really glad you’re back.”

  Valkyrie smiled. “See? Was that so hard to say?”

  She got out, kicked the tattered boots into the sea, and ran barefoot to her house. She climbed through her window and changed quickly in her room, stuffing the brown clothes under her bed. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked tired. She needed a shower. She reached out slowly and tapped the glass, but nothing happened. Her reflection was merely her reflection.

  Tears came to her eyes without warning and she stepped back, muttering, wiping them away. This was not the time to break down, for God’s sake. She took a deep, deep breath, and blew it out. There. Much better. No more tears. All that fragility pushed aside. She put on a happy face, in much the same way that the reflection would have, and skipped lightly down the stairs.

  “Hey, Mum,” she called.

  Her mother appeared in the kitchen doorway at the same time as her dad popped out of the living room.

  “Wow,” she said, jumping back. “You’re like ninjas.”

  “Steph,” her mum said, saying the name like it was a sigh of enormous relief. “Where were you?”

  There was a leaden weight somewhere in her chest that she ignored. “I told you I’d be at the library after school.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Valkyrie laughed. “Well, OK, I didn’t tell you but I wrote it on the note.”

  “What note?”

  She passed her mum, moving to the fridge. “This note. The one I left... oh. Where’s it gone?”

  “I didn’t see any note,” said her mother.

  “Me neither,” said her dad.

  “Oh,” said Valkyrie, making a show of scanning the floor. “Oh, it must have fallen off. Must be under the cooker or something. And the battery on my phone died.” She turned to them, widening her eyes. “Oh my God, so that means you didn’t know I left this morning before you got up? Oh, I’m so sorry! Were you worried?”

  Her mother laughed. “No, no, of course I wasn’t.”

  “I was,” said her dad.

  Her mum frowned at him. “You just noticed she wasn’t here ten minutes ago.”

  “The longest ten minutes of my life.”

  “Is that why you went back to reading the paper?”

  “I needed something to distract me.”

  Valkyrie smiled at them both. “Well, I’m really sorry for any distress I may have caused. I’ll try not to let it happen ever again. But now, Mum, is there any dinner left? I’m starving.”

  She ate, looked in on her little sister, and put her black clothes in a pile on the floor beside her before she went to bed. She kept her Necromancer ring on. She lay in the darkness for a few minutes, then reached for her phone. She dia
lled.

  Skulduggery answered immediately. “Are you shunting?”

  “No,” she said, “no, everything’s fine. But what if I do shunt again tonight?”

  “I considered that,” he answered. “And without wishing to alarm you, I’m in your back garden.”

  She laughed. “You’re what?”

  “If your arm starts to hurt, open the window for me and we’ll go together.”

  “You can’t stand in the garden all night,” she said, and got up, wrapped a sheet round herself and opened the window. A moment later, he was perched on her sill. She went back to bed, and snuggled under the covers. “Come in,” she whispered.

  “I’m fine out here.”

  “Don’t be dumb. You might be seen.”

  He considered it, then climbed through, closing the window behind him. “And what if your parents walk in?”

  “Then I’ll tell them I borrowed the skeleton from the school lab and dressed it in a nice suit as a prank.”

  “You’re not known for your pranks.”

  “Maybe it’s time for that to change.”

  He went to the wall opposite the bed, and slid down until he was sitting. With the light off, all she could see was the outline of his hat. “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

  She smiled. “No thank you. You can sing me a lullaby if you want.”

  And that’s what he did. In a voice so soft it barely reached her through the darkness, he sang her ‘Me and Mrs Jones’, and she fell asleep to his voice.

  phone beeped quietly and she woke. It was morning. Friday the 30th of April. One day before May 1st, and Greta Dapple’s birthday, and the Summer of Light, when the world would tear itself apart. What a cheery, happy thought to wake up to.

  Valkyrie sat up, yawned, stretched both arms above her head.

  “I’m still here,” Skulduggery told her, and she yelped, almost fell out of bed. “Sorry,” he said. “You looked like you’d forgotten about me.”

  “I had,” she said, glaring. “Did we get a call?”

  “Yes, we did. One of the mages stationed at St Brendan’s School saw someone answering Kitana Kellaway’s appearance in the vicinity. We may as well drop by on our way to the Sanctuary to check it out.”

  He stayed in her room while she took a shower, then she dressed in her school uniform and went down to the kitchen. She had a quick breakfast, said goodbye to her folks, and left the house. She hurried round the corner, rose up to her window and climbed through. Skulduggery turned his back while she pulled on her black trousers and boots. She pulled on a black top, really missing her jacket. Then they both dropped down to the garden. Sixty seconds later, they were in the Bentley, driving for Haggard’s Main Street.

  Behind St Brendan’s Secondary School there was a closed-down supermarket, and at the rear of that there was a small car park. It was here that they found the dead sorcerers. Five of them, their bodies torn and ruptured. Skulduggery muttered something Valkyrie couldn’t hear and she turned away, went to the brick wall that acted as a boundary between the car park and the school grounds. She used the air to hoist herself to the top and straddled the wall.

  “It looks quiet,” she said.

  Skulduggery rose into the air until he was standing on the wall. “We’ll have reinforcements here in ten minutes. We should wait.”

  “That’s what we should do,” Valkyrie agreed, swinging her leg over and dropping down on to school grounds.

  Skulduggery drifted down beside her as she walked. “It really doesn’t seem fair,” he said, checking his gun. “Those sorcerers trained for years to develop their powers, and these kids wake up one morning and they’re able to tear them apart with a gesture.”

  “They’re not kids,” Valkyrie said. “They’re the same age as me. Do you think of me as a kid?”

  “No, but then I’ve never defined you by your age.”

  “Then don’t define them by their age, either. They’re not kids, they’re murderers.”

  “If you’re telling me not to go easy on them because they’re under eighteen, you don’t have to worry.”

  “So you’re going to be your usual ruthless self?”

  “It’s been working well for me so far.”

  She glanced behind them. “Did you know any of the sorcerers back there?”

  “I knew all of them,” he said. “You knew three – but you wouldn’t have recognised them.”

  The empty feeling in Valkyrie’s chest expanded slightly.

  They reached the football pitch and looked across at the school buildings. No alarms, no screaming, no explosions.

  “Maybe they changed their minds,” Valkyrie said.

  “I doubt it,” Skulduggery responded, putting his gun away.

  “Do we have a plan?”

  “We do, but it’s not very good.”

  “Any plan at all would be a reassurance.”

  “Very well. We go in there and we evacuate each room as quietly as possible.”

  “That actually sounds like a good plan.”

  “It does, until you realise it’s very light on details, such as how we evacuate them and how we manage to do it without causing a panic.”

  “We could set off the fire alarm.”

  “Which would cause the panic I just mentioned, which in turn could set off Kitana and her friends. If this turns bad, we’re going to have to forget about hiding magic from the mortals. If you have to throw fire right in front of them, then that’s what you do. Focus everything you’ve got on defending yourself and the people inside, do you understand?”

  “Yes. This really isn’t going to be pretty, is it?”

  “It’s really not,” Skulduggery said.

  They approached the school from the rear. Skulduggery disconnected the alarm on the fire doors and they slipped inside. The corridor was long and empty. Still no screaming. A face slid upwards from Skulduggery’s collarbones, and he opened the door of the first classroom they came to. The teacher, standing at the board, looked round.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’d like a word, please,” Skulduggery said. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

  The teacher frowned, but joined them in the corridor.

  “My name is Detective Inspector Me,” Skulduggery said, keeping his voice low, “and I’m part of the new school safety initiative. You won’t have heard of it, it’s all very top secret. Basically, what I’m going to need you to do is take your class out through the fire door here and escort them a safe distance from the school.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Get your class away from the school.”

  “Listen, I wasn’t told anything about this.”

  “That would have ruined the surprise, don’t you think? Please do as I say.”

  “Could I see some identification, or a badge or something?”

  “I don’t need a badge, I have natural authority.”

  The teacher frowned at Valkyrie. “And who are you? You’re a little young to be a cop, aren’t you?”

  “I’m the student liaison,” she told him. “It’s my job to take notes on how the teachers interact with the pupils in a time of crisis.”

  “So this is some kind of fire drill? Then why isn’t the alarm going off?”

  “Because we want to observe each class one at a time,” Skulduggery said. “And speaking of time, we’re running out of it. If you don’t start the evacuation in the next thirty seconds, you will have failed the test.”

  “Failed? Now just hold on there...”

  “Twenty-five seconds.”

  The teacher’s eyes widened. “But where do I evacuate them to?”

  “Anywhere away from the school.”

  “But where? We could go across the football pitch. There’s a car park at an old supermarket we could—”

  “Not there,” Valkyrie said quickly. “Is there anywhere else?”

  “There’s the trail down to the woods.”

  “Is that out of sight of the
school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s where you take them. Eight seconds left. And tell them not to make a sound.”

  The teacher darted back into the classroom. While Skulduggery waited, Valkyrie hurried to the next door and glanced through the glass panel. A full room. She hurried on, counting one empty room and two more full. She reached a room at the halfway point and stopped. The teacher was sitting rigidly at his desk. The students were also sitting bolt upright. She heard someone talking, too low to make out the words. She backed off, walked quickly back to Skulduggery as the last of the students left through the fire door.

  “They’re here,” she whispered. “They’re in class. Everyone in that room is terrified.”

  Skulduggery’s face grimaced. “We’re going to have to evacuate everyone out through the windows. Footsteps on this floor are just too loud.”

  “We won’t be able to do it,” she said. “You’re talking about hundreds of students who are going to be giggling and laughing and once they’re outside you know there’s bound to be a few eejits who start shouting for joy at missing class. Once Kitana realises that something is wrong, she’s going to start killing people.”

  “Then we forget about the evacuation. We focus on taking them down.”

  “We’ll have to take them by surprise.”

  “And I have just the thing,” he said, undoing a few shirt buttons. He reached his hand in and rooted around.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I keep a pouch in there now,” he said. “There’s a big empty space inside me, so why not use it for storage? It beats having unsightly bulges in jacket pockets. Ah, here it is.” He took out a wooden ball, and handed it to her. The cloaking sphere.

  “You hold this,” he said. “You’ll have to adjust it accordingly, because we’re going in and bringing them out one at a time. Either that or we go in, get into position, and leap out at them. Or we do something else. I don’t know. It depends on what it’s like in there. Are you clear on the plan?”

  “That’s not a plan.”

  “Are you clear on what we’re hoping to do?”