Resurrection

by Derek Landy

  “Hovering is the first step to flying,” he said as they touched down gently in the empty courtyard. He released her. “That’s what I tell people who ask for tips.”

  “Do many ask?”

  “More and more,” he said. “Apparently, there’s been a resurgence in people choosing Elemental magic as their discipline, all because they want to learn to soar above the clouds.”

  The wind had messed up her hair, so she tied it back into a ponytail. “Even though none of their Elemental teachers can fly? This doesn’t suggest to them that maybe flying is harder to master than it would appear?”

  “They don’t care,” Skulduggery said. “They just want to emulate their heroes.”

  “You mean you.”

  “As the only Elemental who can actually fly, yes, I mean me. Don’t you miss it?”

  “Flying? The only times I’ve properly flown, Darquesse had taken over. The memory’s a little tainted.”

  “I suppose,” he said, then took his pocket watch from his waistcoat and glanced at it. “There’s someone I need to talk to before we leave. Will I meet you back at the car?”

  “Ah,” she said, “I kinda want to explore a little, see what’s what.”

  “Oh. OK. And you’re sure you don’t want to head back to the car and wait for me there?”

  “You’re worried that my dog will have peed on your seats, aren’t you?”

  “The thought has occurred to me.”

  “Xena will still be asleep, believe me, and she doesn’t pee in cars. You go talk to whoever you have to talk to, I’ll have a walk around and I’ll meet you out front in, what, twenty minutes?”

  They split up, and she passed through the nearest door, found herself in a corridor just as the bell rang and students swarmed out, filling the spaces and jostling Valkyrie as they squeezed by. She sighed with irritation, kept her elbows down and didn’t hit anyone. After another few seconds, the crowd started to thin and she could walk without tripping over anyone.

  Four kids with green ties stood in a group ahead of her. They started whispering. Valkyrie kept her head down and her eyes on the floor as she passed them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw them glance her way, and when they were behind her the whispering picked up again.

  Valkyrie turned to face them. “What?” she snapped. “What is it that’s so fascinating about me? What?”

  The kids froze. They actually looked scared. One of them snapped out of it, hurried away, and the others quickly followed. Valkyrie glared at them until they had disappeared round the corner. Then she started to feel stupid for overreacting.

  She turned again, just as a young woman dressed all in black strode up to her with an arm outstretched.

  “Hello!” the young woman said, and Valkyrie was shaking her hand before she knew what was happening. “It’s very good to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you, naturally, but it’s so good to finally meet you in the flesh!”

  She was Scottish, had long red hair, a few freckles and the brightest smile Valkyrie had seen in a long time.

  “You’ll have to forgive the students,” the woman said, lowering her voice slightly. “It’s not often they meet someone famous.”

  Valkyrie took her hand back. Gently. “I’m not famous.”

  “Ah, well, infamous, then.”

  Valkyrie took a moment to work it out, then she sagged. “Oh, right. Darquesse.”

  “They’ve seen all the pictures,” the redhead said, “all the videos. And there are plenty of videos of Darquesse tearing the place up. They don’t mean anything by staring, really they don’t.”

  “It’s fine,” Valkyrie replied. “Amazingly, I kind of forgot that people would associate me with her, even though we shared the same face. Just another thing to feel bad about, I suppose.”

  “Mmm,” said the redhead, because she obviously couldn’t think of a way to salvage this topic of conversation. Then she brightened again. “I’m Militsa Gnosis. I teach Magic Theory.”

  “You’re a Necromancer?”

  “Guilty as charged,” Militsa said, and then suddenly stopped smiling. “Which is probably not the best phrase to use when most of your Order plotted to kill billions of people. If it makes any difference, though, I didn’t know anything about the Passage or what the Clerics were planning.”

  “So you’re a good Necromancer?”

  “Yes,” Militsa said, beaming once again. “I was going to store my magic in a ring like you did, but I didn’t want you to think I was copying you, even though I so would have been, so I keep it in this instead.” She pulled back her sleeve, revealing a thick bracelet. “It’s pretty cool, I think.”

  “Yeah.”

  Militsa’s smile faltered. “Oh, no.”

  “What?”

  “I’m being lame, aren’t I?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I’m being so lame right now,” Militsa said, her chin dropping. “You think I’m a complete idiot, don’t you?”

  “Do I?”

  “You must.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “But I’m babbling. I’m just a babbling idiot that ran up to you and started babbling. This is so embarrassing. Why do I have to be so lame?”

  “I … I don’t think you’re lame.”

  “That’s just because you’re a nice person.”

  “I’m not that nice,” Valkyrie said. “Really, I’m not. I’m quite rude.”

  “You’re not rude.”

  “I am,” Valkyrie insisted. “Before this conversation is done, I bet I’ll have been rude to you by accident.”

  Militsa looked up. Her eyes were huge. “You mean it?”

  “I do. And you’re not lame and you’re not an idiot. You’re just being friendly. You’re a friendly Necromancer, which is kind of unique.”

  “We’re not known for being friendly, I’d have to agree,” Militsa said, brightening.

  “So you’re a teacher here?”

  “Yep. I guide students through their options, as far as choosing a discipline goes. I never meant to be a teacher, to be honest. It’s not something I ever saw myself doing, but it combines two of my favourite things – talking about magic and … and, well, reading about magic, I suppose. I don’t have a very wide range of interests.”

  “Maybe you should get out more.”

  “That’s what my mum says, but then she’s three hundred years old. I think she has unrealistic expectations when it comes to me. I’m just a normal girl. Give me a good book and a sofa and I’m happy, you know?”

  “Can’t beat a book and a sofa.”

  “If I wasn’t a teacher, I’d probably be a researcher, maybe be a part of Project Torchlight. Have you heard of it?”

  “I haven’t, I’m afraid.”

  “Ah, no matter. My point being, I specialise in the Source – which is another reason I’m so pumped to be meeting you.” Militsa hesitated, her eyes sparkling. “Could I see your magic? Could I see what you can do?”

  “Uh …”

  “Just a little bit, I swear. You’re incredible to me, that’s all. You’re connected to the Source of all magic like nobody else. Your magic is … it’s pure. Unfiltered.”

  “I’m not very good at controlling it,” Valkyrie confessed.

  “I’m not surprised,” said Militsa. “I’ve got theories about it, if you’d like to hear them.”

  “Uh, maybe. I’m a little busy right now …”

  “Oh, of course,” Militsa said, laughing at her own stupidity. “Of course you’re busy, you’re Valkyrie Cain! But if ever you wanted to talk about it, just knock on my door. I will literally drop everything to talk to you. Literally. Everything.” She brushed her hands together. “Dropped.”

  “OK,” said Valkyrie. “Well, I might do that.”

  “Or if you just want to hang out,” Militsa said. “You haven’t been to Roarhaven much, have you? Again, I’m not a stalker, I just … I’d have heard if you were in town a lot. I could show you around. There’
s actually a pretty good arts scene here. Bizarre, I know, but there you go. Might be fun, if you’re into that kind of thing. Or we could go for a coffee. Or a drink. Or dinner. Would you like to go to dinner?”

  “No thank you.”

  “Right, of course, you’re busy, I get it.”

  “It’s not that I’m busy,” said Valkyrie. “It’s just that I don’t want to.”

  Militsa blinked. “Oh. Well, I mean, OK. That’s cool.”

  Valkyrie’s face soured. “And now I’m being rude, just like I knew I would.”

  “You’re not rude, no.”

  “It’s just I’m not looking for a friend right now.”

  Militsa blinked. “Ohh. OK.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to offend you, but I’m trying to stay away from people until I get my head straight.”

  “Gotcha,” Militsa said. “No explanation needed. You’ve been through a lot and the last thing you need is someone to talk to.”

  “When you say it like that,” Valkyrie said, “it sounds stupid.”

  “Not at all. This is totally my fault – I just feel like I know you already. I’ve asked Fletcher so many questions.”

  Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “You know Fletcher Renn?”

  Militsa looked surprised. “Well, of course. He’s a teacher here.”

  Valkyrie couldn’t help it – she grinned. “Fletcher? Seriously? What does he teach? What does he know well enough to teach?”

  Militsa grinned with her. “Teleportation. He’s only got three students, and only one of them can actually teleport, but he’s pretty good. I think you’d be impressed.”

  “That’s hilarious,” said Valkyrie. “Is he all strict and stuff?”

  “Very. He has a teacher voice.”

  “Oh, wow.”

  Valkyrie’s phone buzzed with a message from Skulduggery, saying he’d be delayed another ten minutes. As she slipped it back into her jeans, she noticed Militsa glancing at her watch.

  “You probably have work to do,” Valkyrie said.

  Militsa nodded. “I’m supposed to be teaching a class right now. If this was a mortal school, the kids’d be tearing up the place, but Corrival students tend to be so boringly well behaved that they’re probably cleaning the windows. The coffee offer will remain open, by the way, for as long as you need it to be. Or, you know, dinner. Whatever.”

  “Thank you. Really. I appreciate the gesture.”

  “No problem,” Militsa said, and beamed another smile. “It was so nice to meet you, Valkyrie. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

  Valkyrie smiled back, and Militsa turned with a swirl of her cloak and walked off. She wore a cloak. Valkyrie hadn’t known very many people who wore cloaks. Not even Skulduggery wore a cloak. What an odd girl. Valkyrie liked her.

  She left the school, with its magnificent arches and grand staircases, and walked the wide streets. Plenty of time to double back and meet Skulduggery. There was a guy on the corner, barefoot and dressed in sackcloth, holding a sign that warned her that the end was nigh. To reinforce the point he was making, he shouted it at anyone who was passing.

  “The end is nigh!” he screeched to Valkyrie, shaking the cardboard sign. “The end is nigh!”

  “Isn’t it always?” she asked, and left him shaking the sign resentfully.

  She made a note of the street names as she went by. Gorgon Street. Titan Street. Bellower Road. She crossed Meritorious Square and took the narrower streets now, away from the staring, whispering people. She walked down Blood-drenched Lane, took a right on to Decapitation Row. At least they were easy to remember.

  She smelled food and her tummy rumbled, so she followed the smell and then abruptly lost it in a dead end that went by the charming name of Putrid Road. She turned, and stopped.

  Three people stood there – two men and one woman – staring at her with a special kind of look in their eyes. Valkyrie had seen that look before. She was well used to that look.

  That look meant that, at some point in the next few minutes, they were going to try to kill her.

  10

  Sebastian watched it all from the rooftop.

  He watched the three of them follow her away from the crowds, away from anyone who might step in. He would have expected more from Valkyrie Cain. He would have expected her to be a lot more alert. But there she was, in jeans and a T-shirt instead of her usual black, walking like a zombie, just going where the streets took her, like she had a thousand different things on her mind and she didn’t want to think of a single one of them. He watched her reach the dead end and turn, and freeze.

  He crouched low, and bit his lip beneath his mask. He had his mission. He shouldn’t be wasting his time on things like this.

  Below him, Valkyrie waited for the three people to say something. When they didn’t, she spoke. “I’m not Darquesse.”

  Sebastian’s ears were covered, but he heard her perfectly.

  “You look like Darquesse,” said the woman. “You look the way she did when she killed my family. Except you’re not smiling. Darquesse was smiling.”

  Valkyrie hesitated. “I’m not her.”

  The man on the left was packing some extra weight, but he looked strong, like those clenched fists would hurt. “Darquesse killed my daughter,” he said. “Burned her to nothing. I doubt she even noticed she’d done it.”

  “My brother tried to fight her,” the second man said. “I begged him not to, but he thought if he could sneak up behind her, while the Skeleton Detective and everyone was distracting her, he could snap her neck before she knew what was happening. My brother, who had never snapped a neck in his life. He never even got close.”

  “I’m sorry for your pain,” Valkyrie said slowly. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, and for what your loved ones went through. But I’m not Darquesse.”

  “We know,” the woman said. “We know you’re Valkyrie Cain. We know all about you. We know Darquesse was your true name, and we know she inhabited the body of your reflection. We know all this. Everyone does. Everyone knows that none of it would have happened if it weren’t for you.”

  “Sensitives had dreams about her for years before she showed up,” the second guy said. “They warned you. All that time, you knew what would happen if you kept going. But you didn’t want to go back to a mortal life, did you? You wanted to be one of us. A sorcerer.”

  “So you let it happen,” the first man said. “You allowed it to happen just like the Sensitives predicted it would, because you were having too good a time going off on all your adventures.”

  “Nothing to say?” the woman asked, walking forward. Sebastian tensed. “For a girl with a reputation for being a smart-mouth, you’re awfully quiet.”

  “Leave me alone,” Valkyrie said.

  “You shouldn’t have come back.”

  “Leave me alone. Please. I don’t want any trouble.”

  The woman sneered. “Begging didn’t save my family. It’s not going to save you.”

  The woman slapped her. Hard. Sebastian’s own cheek tingled in sympathy, but Valkyrie just stood there.

  Obviously of the opinion that a simple slap wasn’t going to do the job, the first man stepped up and swung a punch that sent Valkyrie spinning to the ground. Sebastian readied himself to jump in the moment Valkyrie retaliated – but she just stayed down, propped on her elbow, holding a hand to her face. The woman kicked her in the shin, ended up hurting herself as much as she hurt Valkyrie.

  Slowly, Valkyrie stood back up.

  The first man looked at the second, who hesitated, then nodded and clenched his fists also. These were not warriors, Sebastian saw. These were just ordinary sorcerers. Ordinary, angry sorcerers.

  The second man hit Valkyrie, a light punch to the shoulder.

  “Come on!” said the first guy. “Harder!”

  The second man stared at Valkyrie, his lips curling as he cultivated his anger, and he hit her again, this time in the face. Valkyrie took a few st
eps back before she regained her balance. Blood dripped from her bottom lip. Still she did nothing.

  The punch was followed by another, and another, fists fuelled by pent-up rage, by loss and love and hate, all that pain finally finding an outlet in the infliction of pain on another. Valkyrie was doubled over by a shot to the belly and then sent to the ground again. A low, tortured moan escaped her as she struggled to breathe.

  And, once more, she got to her feet.

  The woman pushed her way to the front, clicking her fingers and summoning a ball of flame into her hand. This changed things. Valkyrie shifted her balance slightly as she watched the woman, waiting to see what she would do. Waiting to see if she’d cross the line.

  For a moment, the woman seemed to reconsider. Sebastian had a good view of her face, and he saw the conflict there. The emotion. The flames dimmed, looked like they were about to go out.

  But then something – a memory, an urge, a flash of ruthlessness – flared the flames in her hand and she moved her arm back, preparing to throw, and Valkyrie leaped at her, smacking her hand down and driving her elbow into the woman’s jaw. The woman crumpled and the fire went out.

  The first man snapped his palm against the air and the space rippled, but Valkyrie was already lunging at the other guy. She rolled under his punch and grabbed him, twisted him, threw him over her leg and he went tumbling.

  The first guy charged, too angry to use magic. Valkyrie met him head-on. She crashed into him, using her elbows as a battering ram. He staggered back, clutching his chest, trying to get his breath back. She let him fall to one knee, gasping, and turned to the smaller man as he rose. Again, she closed the space between them, refusing to give him a chance to throw a punch or use his magic. She slapped him so hard Sebastian winced, and wrapped her arm around his throat as he spun. She kicked out his leg and crouched with him, tightening her stranglehold. He struggled, tried to pull her hair, but she stayed calm and just kept squeezing.

  The first guy was getting his breath back, and he was attempting to stand, clicking his fingers at the same time. Any moment now his hands would be filled with fire.

  Sebastian leaped, crashing into him from above. The big guy went down as the other guy lost his battle to stay awake. Valkyrie laid him on his side, turned and observed Sebastian as he stood there.