by Derek Landy
Skulduggery deactivated the disc, and Serpine fell forward, gasping.
“The goal in your life that we are offering you,” Skulduggery said, “is the chance to rid yourself of that little device. The future you can look forward to is a future where you don’t have to suffer white-hot agony whenever we get bored. Two rather healthy aspirations, are they not?”
Serpine snapped his head up, glared at them. “I go free,” he said. “After I lead you in, after you take this thing off me, I go free.”
“You aren’t free now?”
“They say I am, but everywhere I go I have an armed escort. I’ve proved myself to Sorrows, I supplied her with names and locations and some of Mevolent’s best-kept secrets, and what do I get in return? A small bed in a cold room and my powers bound. If you get her to agree to set me free, I’ll take you.”
“She’ll never agree to that,” Skulduggery said. “She’s not going to just loan you to us and then let you run off. What does she gain from that deal?”
“Then we don’t tell her. We agree, the three of us, here and now, that you let me go when we’re done. I’ll take my chances on my own.”
“If we’re going to set you free, we need more than just a guide into the City. You have to take us into the Palace itself, to the Sceptre.”
“You’re insane.”
“That’s the deal.”
Serpine hesitated. “Very well. I take you to the Sceptre, you take this disc off me and unlock this glove and let me go.”
“Agreed. How long will it take to get into the City?”
“What time is it now?”
“Around three.”
“Afternoon or morning, skeleton? You lose track when you don’t have windows.”
“Afternoon.”
Serpine nodded. “The best time to sneak in will be at the end of the working day. We need to be outside the wall at six. Before then I’ll need clothes. My own clothes. And tell them to send a barber. If I go in looking like this, we’ll be arrested on the spot. I assume you have some sort of disguise, skeleton? I’d wear it if I were you. The people of the City are cultured and elegant, not like the grim and shabby specimens who trudge around this place. You, girl,” he said to Valkyrie, and threw her the towel from around his waist. “Run me a bath.”
Using her thumb and forefinger, Valkyrie pulled the towel from her head and dropped it on the floor. “Gross,” she whimpered.
They spoke to Harmony and she arranged the barber and the bath, then they found his clothes. Valkyrie was outside with Skulduggery, sitting on the horse they’d given her, when a Cleaver escorted Serpine out into the sunlight.
The beard was gone and the hair was short. His clothes were old and worn, but still elegant. He blinked against the light, shielding his eyes with the iron glove. She saw for the first time how pale he was.
He saw them and smiled as he came over.
“There,” he said. “So much better. If one is rushing into certain death, one had better look one’s best, don’t you think? I almost feel like my old self again.” He looked at Skulduggery. “You know, the old self who killed your family.”
“Oh, yes,” Skulduggery said, “him.”
Serpine swung his leg up on to his horse, and looked down at Harmony. “Do try not to miss me too much while I’m gone,” he said. “If you find yourself inconsolable, feel free to lie down in your favourite spot on my bunk.”
Harmony’s face got suddenly warmer, Serpine laughed, and turned to Skulduggery. “Shall we go?”
They left the village at a canter. Valkyrie hadn’t ridden a horse in years and it took her a while to ease into the rhythm. She soon found herself enjoying it. And soon after that, she began to ache.
They saw the wall in the distance before they saw Dublin, but soon they were making their way through the narrow streets of the mortals, who hurried from their path even though they had slowed the pace to a brisk walk. They had journeyed mostly in silence, but the closer they got to their destination, the chattier Serpine became.
“It seems the years have mellowed you, skeleton,” he said. “Where is that old anger I used to know? Where is all that fury? All that hatred? Have you changed? Have you become, for want of a better word, a different man?”
“A lot of things have happened since you saw me last,” Skulduggery said. “I’ve already had my revenge, for a start.”
“Oh? How so?”
“The how, where and when don’t concern you, Nefarian.”
“Very well.” Serpine smiled. “But was it everything you had hoped it would be?”
“Oh, it was,” said Skulduggery. “Except that it was over far too quickly.”
“Well, I’m right here if you feel there is blood left unspilled.”
Skulduggery didn’t respond right away, and Valkyrie started to get worried. But then his head tilted in that way of his. “A tempting offer, and much appreciated. It is a rare occasion indeed when I am invited to inflict vast amounts of damage upon a person. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you wanted me to kill you here and now instead of risk Mevolent getting his hands on you.”
Serpine laughed. “Actually, I’d rather skip my untimely demise completely if it’s all the same to you.”
“Naturally. But if you were going to die on this little mission of ours, and it looks like that’s a distinct possibility, then I’m sure you’d prefer a quick neck-break to a prolonged torture session – which is undoubtedly what Mevolent has in mind for you.”
“Oh, you don’t know Mevolent like I know him. He’s a forgiving fellow, all things considered. If I were captured, I’m sure he’d be quite understanding.”
“In that case, if we are outnumbered, we’ll happily leave you behind, yes?”
Serpine smiled, but the smile was tight. “Please do,” he said. “I haven’t seen my old friends in years. We have so much to catch up on.”
hastly stood in front of the mirror wearing his Elder’s robes. He hated them. He hated them so much he wanted to cut them up, fashion them into something new, something worthwhile or, at the very least, something extravagantly stylish. He took them off, threw them over his desk, and rubbed his eyes. Grand Mage Strom was in a detention cell, Skulduggery and Valkyrie were off having a transdimensional adventure, Kitana and her friends were still causing havoc, and an entire section of the Sanctuary was sealed off thanks to Lament and his sorcerers.
All that plus the fact that Argeddion was walking around conducting those experiments of his and being basically omnipotent meant that Ghastly had enjoyed very little sleep recently.
He missed his old bed. He missed his shop. He missed the part of his life where people didn’t run to him for answers. He was a tailor, not a leader. The only reason he’d taken this job in the first place was to have the resources to track down and cure Tanith Low. But here he was, all this time later, and he was still no closer.
He chose a tie, put it on, tightened the knot all the way and then tugged it down once to loosen it.
He hadn’t even seen Tanith since that time in the van, the Christmas before last. One moment they were chatting, the next there was a bright flash and then everything went dark. When he’d regained his senses, Tanith had fled with a Remnant inside her. It actually stung that she’d infiltrated the Sanctuary mere days earlier to kill Christophe Nocturnal in his cell, and she hadn’t even stopped by to say hello.
That was a weird thing to be upset about, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.
He buttoned his waistcoat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, the exact same number of turns on each arm. Looking good could not be left to chance, after all. He may have been disfigured, but that was no reason to let himself go. And at least his scars were symmetrical. Someone knocked on his door. He opened it.
“The mortals,” Tipstaff said. “They’re awake.”
Ghastly ran, joining Ravel on the way down to the lower levels. They passed Elsie and Ghastly grabbed her hand, making sure she stayed close. By the time th
ey reached the quarantine zone, there was a small crowd gathered. Ghastly got to the front, taking Elsie with him.
The mortals were on either side of the room, standing perfectly straight with their eyes fixed ahead of them. Doctor Synecdoche shook her head. “This shouldn’t be happening,” she said. “They’re all fully sedated. They shouldn’t be able to open their eyes, let alone get out of bed.”
Ravel went up to the nearest mortal, waved his hand in front of her face. “She’s unresponsive,” he said. “Are they sleepwalking?”
“Maybe,” said Synecdoche. “I mean, yes, they are, but why? Nothing happened. Nothing has changed. But they all just sat up at the same time. All of them.”
“Elsie?” Ghastly said. “Are you OK?”
“There’s someone here,” she whispered. “I can feel him.”
“Argeddion?”
She nodded. “The same way I can feel Sean, I feel Argeddion. He’s close. He’s getting closer.”
“Grand Mage,” said Ghastly, “Argeddion’s on his way. We need to get you to a safe—”
“No,” said Elsie.
“No what? He’s not on his way?”
She shook her head. “He’s here.”
Argeddion stood down the other end of the ward. “Hello, Elsie,” he said.
The mages and Cleavers who rushed him disappeared before they took two steps. Ghastly was left with Elsie and Ravel, Synecdoche and Tipstaff.
Ravel looked around slowly, then addressed Argeddion. “What did you do with my people?”
“They’re a few miles away,” Argeddion said. “I didn’t harm them, don’t worry. I’m a pacifist, remember?”
“What are you doing here?”
Argeddion smiled. “My first batch of test subjects have completed their tasks,” he said. “I’m just here to collect the results.”
He started walking slowly through the two rows of mortals. Their chests began to glow, and warm globes of light drifted out of them and into him as he passed. Once the light left them, they collapsed. Synecdoche hurried forward, but Argeddion held up a hand, stopping her. “They’re quite all right,” he said. “They’re just sleeping. When they wake, they’ll be back to normal.”
Ravel guided Synecdoche back to where Ghastly and Elsie were standing. “You’re taking your magic back?”
“Yes. And as I take it back, I’m absorbing all the information it gathered. How it affected them, how it improved them, how it hurt them.”
“Why?” Synecdoche asked. “So you can refine the dosage for next time?”
Argeddion smiled. “That’s exactly why, my dear doctor. I don’t want people going berserk, now, do I? Unpredictable behaviour was an unfortunate necessity for the first time out, but I assure you it will be much smoother on the big day.”
He reached the end, and the last mortals collapsed. Argeddion sighed. “I feel all tingly.”
He walked by them, out into the corridor. They followed.
“Don’t waste your breath trying to convince me that what I’m doing is wrong,” he said. “Skulduggery and Valkyrie have given it their best shot and I haven’t changed my mind. I do think, however, that I’m starting to change theirs …”
“I doubt that very much,” Ravel said.
Argeddion shrugged. “Wishful thinking, then.”
They climbed the stairs, Sanctuary staff clearing the way as he neared. He looked at Elsie and smiled. “You don’t seem to be embracing your powers like your friends have.”
“I … I don’t want to hurt anyone,” she said.
“Of course you don’t. Why would you? You’re not a barbarian.”
“The others hurt people.”
Argeddion nodded sadly. “I know. I’ve seen it. It’s disturbing, isn’t it? But they’ll learn. That’s the wonderful thing about humanity – their ability to learn from their mistakes.”
“I don’t think you should have given us those powers.”
“But you were perfect. You suited my needs. I needed to see how it would affect society as a whole. You four had everything I was looking for – the right group dynamic, the right amount of tensions, of loyalties, of friendships. Was it perfect? No. But when this is over, you’ll give me the answers I need, and you will know that you helped make the world a better place.”
They left the Sanctuary, emerging into open air, and Argeddion stopped.
“Hello,” he said softly.
Lament’s sorcerers hovered in the sky above them. Their eyes were open.
“We can’t let you leave,” Lament said. “You’re too dangerous. You must be stopped.”
Argeddion looked up at them. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I knew there was a possibility of you breaking free, but I had no idea you’d be able to do it so soon. Well done, my friends.”
“We’re sorry for what we did to you,” said Lament. “It wasn’t an easy choice to make. But recent events have proven that we were right to fear you.”
“I bear you no ill will,” Argeddion said. “I’ve lain inside your minds for years. You, all of you, are a part of me, and I love you for that.”
“Thank you, Argeddion. But we can’t let you continue.”
“You can’t survive without me, Tyren. None of you can. My magic has been sustaining you for years. If you attempt to stop me, you will fail, you must realise that.”
“We have to try,” Lament said.
“Of course you do.” Argeddion smiled, and rose into the air until they surrounded him, energy crackling.
“It’s been an honour knowing you,” he said. There was a pulse of light and the hovering sorcerers fell to the ground.
Ghastly ran forward, dropping to his knees beside Lenka. Her eyes were open. She wasn’t breathing. “What did you do? What did you do to them?”
“I took back the power I’d given them,” Argeddion said.
Ravel’s face twisted in anger. “You killed them.”
“They were intent on wielding my own magic against me. It wasn’t a choice I wanted, but it was the choice I was given. They were my friends, in a way, and they died peacefully.”
“They were murdered. You just murdered them.”
“And they imprisoned me for thirty years when I had done nothing wrong,” Argeddion said, and for the first time Ghastly heard an edge to his voice.
He closed his eyes, then opened them. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to snap. But I’ve just lost my only four friends in the world. I’m feeling quite emotional.”
He drifted up, and up, and vanished.
hey were smuggled into the City by a trader who owed Serpine a favour. He hadn’t been happy about it, this mortal, and wasted no time in complaining. But they huddled down in the back of his cart as it trundled across O’Connell Bridge, and the man stopped griping long enough to bluff his way through the gates. Once inside, they slipped from the cart and Serpine led them through the back streets.
Once they were far enough away from the Redhoods and the City Mages, Valkyrie was sent forth to figure out where the hell they were off to next. A man hurried by, wearing what was probably the height of fashion for Dublin-Within-The-Wall. His shoes were pointy and click-clacked on the pavement, his shirt had an extraordinarily long collar and his hat was, quite honestly, ridiculous. Valkyrie chose him because he was obviously harassed, and obviously in a hurry. People in a hurry were more inclined to give answers without asking questions.
“Excuse me, sir, I was wondering if you could help me.”
He frowned at her as he moved, and she had to walk quickly to keep up. “With what?” he asked. “I’m a very busy man. You think this City runs by itself? I’ll tell you something, it doesn’t. It takes work. It takes people like me.”
“I just need to find someone.”
“Have you tried looking?” he said, and sped up.
She matched his pace. “I’m new here, I don’t know anyone. I’m looking for my uncle.”
“Family? Stay away from family. Family is bad news. My family can�
��t stand me. You know why? Because I work hard. They’re jealous. Everyone’s jealous. Everyone’s going home to their families but am I? I am not. I’m still working, that’s what I’m doing. That’s why they’re jealous. It’s not easy being me. It’d be easier being you, and I don’t even know you. I know me, though, and I should get an award.”
“I just need to find—”
“Need to find? Need to find? Why do you need to find? If you’re looking for someone, search the Well.”
“The what?”
“The Well. Are you stupid?”
“I’m not sure what that is.”
He turned suddenly. “You don’t know what the Well is? The World Well? You don’t know what it is? What age are you?”
“Uh, seventeen.”
“You’re seventeen years old and you don’t know what the World Well is? Where have you been? Where are you from? What’s wrong with you? Are you stupid? Are you dim? Are you …?” He stopped suddenly, and for a moment he looked horrified. Valkyrie readied a power-slap, prepared to unleash it the moment he started to shout for help. Instead, he smiled. “Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry,” he said, suddenly talking really slowly. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
She frowned. “Uh … that’s OK …”
He tilted his head towards her. “Different people learn at different rates. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m sorry?”
“No no no, I’m the one who’s sorry. I have a daughter myself, actually. You remind me of her. She’s four.”
Valkyrie glared. “Right.”
“The World Well is a marvellous thing,” said the man, talking even slower now. “Can you picture in your head a big bucket? Can you do that?”
“A bucket,” Valkyrie said. “Yeah.”
“And in this bucket, or this Well, is all the information in the world. It’s all put in there. Every book ever written, every fact and figure. Do you understand?”