by Derek Landy
She sighed and shook her head, but he continued.
“He broke the first law of being a vampire when he killed his own kind. If he can’t stick to that simple rule, how safe do you think you are? Do you know why vampires are known for holding grudges? It’s because once a passion for something, in that case vengeance, starts to burn, it consumes them absolutely. Vengeance, hatred, or love. They each burn as bright.”
“So you’re saying he’ll become obsessed with me?”
“If he told you he loves you, he’s already obsessed with you.”
“If you talked to him, if you sat down and gave him a chance, you’d realise how wrong you are.”
Skulduggery didn’t say anything. He just looked at her, then slowly cocked his head to one side. Valkyrie looked away, aware of the blush that was rising.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“I didn’t do anything. What are you talking about?”
“Loath as I am to protect your relationship with Fletcher, you are still with the boy, aren’t you?”
“Of course.”
“You’re not with Caelan, then?”
She shook her head.
“And you have no plans to be with him?”
“He’s way too old.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to say! Do you want me to say we kissed? Because OK, we did! Once! That’s all. And I said never again because I’m with Fletcher, and he agreed. There. What else do you want to know?”
Skulduggery said nothing, just kept walking. She felt the flash of righteous anger fading fast, leaving her feeling stupid and childish and really wishing she hadn’t said anything.
“I see,” he said at last.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” said Valkyrie. “I don’t need to get your permission to kiss Caelan, or Fletcher, or anyone.”
“That’s right,” he said quietly, “you don’t. But we still have the problem of a vampire being in love with you.”
“I told you, it’s not a problem.”
“You can’t afford to encourage him.”
She glared. “I’m not encouraging him.”
“Then kissing him probably sends the wrong signal.”
Valkyrie looked away, unable to argue with him there.
“And what if Fletcher finds out?” Skulduggery continued. “Are you willing to lose your boyfriend over this? Caelan may be on his best behaviour with you, but by now, I can assure you, he is hating Fletcher. A hint, a suggestion, that’s all it would take to ruin things between you two.”
“Caelan’s not going to say anything,” she said, without conviction.
Then the lights went out. Before Valkyrie could even click her fingers, the emergency generator activated.
“Power cut?” she asked. “Or…?”
“Remnants,” Skulduggery said. “They’re here.”
They ran back to the others. Kenspeckle had a screen set up in the Medical Bay that showed multiple shots of the building’s exteriors.
There were hundreds of them – men and women and even a few children, mortal and sorcerer, all of them out there in the freezing cold with black-lipped smiles on their black-veined faces. Valkyrie could see Wreath and Shudder and Ravel, and a few other people she recognised. There was movement in the crowd around the main door, and Tesseract walked forward. He looked straight up into the camera.
Valkyrie felt the fear in her gut, and the cold, cold guilt. A part of her, a despairing part, wailed and cried that they were here for her, that all this was her fault.
It wasn’t, of course. The Remnants getting free had nothing to do with her, as far as she knew. If they hadn’t come after her, they’d still be out there, still hurting people and taking over bodies. This way, at least, they weren’t targeting mortals. For the moment.
They watched the screens as the possessed spread out, wrapping around the building like a noose on a neck.
A few of them approached the perimeter on the west side. One of them waved a stick at the air until it hit the invisible dome Kenspeckle had set up. The dome glowed blue at the point where the stick touched it, and the blue rippled outwards and gradually dissipated, like a pebble thrown into a still lake. The possessed let out a chorus of appreciation for such fine defensive work.
On the street-facing side, a sorcerer hurled a stream of energy that was soaked up into the blue without causing damage. A ball of fire exploded against it, bullets hit and dropped harmlessly, and a fist of shadows broke apart on impact. All those attacks did was send ripples of blue around the little building.
A group of the possessed broke off from the rest, started using their magic to blast away at the ground.
“They’re digging under,” Valkyrie said.
“They’re going to have to dig deep,” Kenspeckle told her. “We’re not encased in a bubble, but the dome does continue down into the earth for about ten metres. It’s not going to be easy for them.”
“How long till they break through?” asked Tanith.
“The dome will not fail completely,” Kenspeckle said, “but some gaps may start to appear. We can expect some of them to get through before the dome repairs itself.”
“Don’t mind that at all,” Tanith shrugged. “Just don’t want to get bored.”
Valkyrie didn’t say it, but looking down at the hundreds of murderous, black-lipped faces, she didn’t think there’d be much chance of that.
“Spread out,” Skulduggery said, “but not too far. We go where we’re needed, but we don’t go alone. Is that understood? Our aim is to defend and repel attacks until Fletcher teleports back to us. Until then, we do not rest and we do not stop. Let’s go.”
Under sustained attacks, gaps were appearing, and sorcerers were getting through to the building itself. There were further defences there, of course, and even more inside, but little by little, the building was breached.
Valkyrie was down in the morgue, watching helplessly as a large hole was blasted through the wall and three sorcerers jumped through.
Skulduggery ran to intercept the intruders. He pushed at the air and sent one of them back to the dome. The other two were Elementals, and knew how to meet the rush of air without losing ground. The biggest of them, an ugly man with curly black hair, slammed into Skulduggery and took him down. The other one, dressed in a suit and tie splattered with mud, went for Valkyrie.
She dropped right before he reached her, sweeping his feet from under him. He hit the floor and she gripped him with shadows, threw him spinning to the side of the morgue. The smack his head made against the concrete was wet and sickening.
The man with the curly hair punched Skulduggery’s head, grunting as his hand broke. Skulduggery kicked him away and rolled to his feet, slid sideways to avoid a lunge from the third intruder. His hand came around, caught the guy behind the ear, sending him stumbling. Valkyrie pushed at the air, directing it at the guy’s feet. His legs flew out behind him and he fell, and she ran up and volleyed his head like a football.
Skulduggery whipped an elbow into the curly-haired man’s nose. The Remnants were strong, and their sensitivity to pain was lessened, but they were still in human bodies, and human bodies had certain reactions to certain things. An elbow to the nose causes the eyes to water, which blurs the vision. A kick to the shin sends signals shooting into the brain, which in turn brings the hands down to protect the injured area. And a knee to the chin rocks the head back, which makes the brain slam into the wall of the skull, which results in blackout.
The man with the curly hair dropped like a sack of ugly potatoes.
Through the hole in the wall, Valkyrie could see the blue energy of the dome, and the possessed on the other side. She barely resisted the urge to shout, “That all you got?” The urge came from fear and the expectation of the inevitable, like when she was a kid playing hide-and-seek and she’d be consumed by the need to lunge from her hiding place as the seeker grew close and shout, “I�
��m here! I’m here!”
She wasn’t a kid any more, and those kinds of self-destructive urges had no place in her life, especially now.
The possessed looked at her and smiled. A few of them chanted her true name. She just stood there beside Skulduggery and waited for the next lot to break through.
45
FRIGHTENING
Tanith knew the sorcerer striding through the laboratory towards her. His skin was dark as ebony, his body big and broad and his eyes burning. He had taken the sword that fitted so comfortably in his hand from a vanquished opponent on a battlefield long ago, and it had served him well ever since. He was an Adept, his name was Frightening Jones, and they had briefly dated back in the 1970s.
His sword came for her and she slipped to the side, tried to sweep her own blade along the back of his leg, but he was already pivoting. Steel clashed and Tanith backed off.
“I’ve missed you,” he smiled.
“How’ve you been?” she muttered.
He shrugged, and sent the tip of his sword whistling for her throat. She dodged away.
“I’m doing all right,” he said, continuing his advance. “I was just over here for a bit of business, and then, well, you know…” He tapped his head. “It’s really not as bad as you think, sharing space with a Remnant. Although, to be fair, this new joining hasn’t made me appreciate Irish weather to any great degree. Still looking forward to being back in Africa.”
He lunged and she parried, flicked her sword to his shoulder, but he raised his blade, and her cut went wide.
“What about you?” he asked. “Anyone special in your life?”
“Oh, Frightening, you know you’re the only one for me.”
He laughed, and she pressed in, and now it was he who was forced to retreat. His defence was strong, the steel of his blade backed up by muscle and sinew. It flickered where it needed to flicker and his feet moved where they needed to move. He was still good. He hadn’t let his skills diminish. Tanith wondered if he was still better than she was.
He blocked a cut and shuffled forward, using his shoulder to knock her sideways. She flipped backwards to avoid the swipe to her knees, parried the follow-up and avoided the next strike altogether.
“When you’ve quite finished dancing,” China said as she strolled by.
Frightening moved round so that he could keep both of them in view. “Miss Sorrows,” he said, “so good to see you again. If you wait right there, I’ll get around to killing you as soon as possible.”
China folded her arms. “I haven’t got all day, Mr Jones.”
Frightening brought his sword down on Tanith’s, nearly ripping it out of her hands. He stepped up and booted her in the gut. She staggered, half bent over, and barely managed to roll away from the next assault.
“Well?” Tanith gasped to China.
China’s eyebrow raised. “Well what?”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Nonsense, you don’t need my help. You’re doing fine.”
Frightening feinted low, then brought the sword high. Tanith blocked, replied with three strikes in quick succession. The first two he batted aside with ease, but the third he let sail overhead as he ducked below it, bringing his blade dangerously close to her ribs. She darted away just in time.
Three more possessed sorcerers came through. China turned to them, arms still folded, her fingers briefly touching the invisible symbols carved into her forearms. Her arms flew wide and the nearest possessed caught a wave of blue energy at point-blank range. His bones broke and his flesh ruptured even as he was sent flying backwards. The other two Remnants rounded on China, just as Frightening renewed his attack on Tanith.
Tanith stumbled as she parried and blocked, trying to regain her footing and give herself some space at the same time. An almighty swing from Frightening took the sword from her hands. Instead of retreating further, she surprised him by leaping forward.
They struggled with his sword, Tanith kicking and kneeing at his legs the whole time. She sneaked a boot around his foot and pushed into him. He went back, tripping over her, but bringing her with him. He grunted as she landed on top of him. Using her full weight, she pressed the sword down against his throat. Teeth gritted and perspiration dotting his forehead, he resisted.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw China fling a dagger of red light into the chest of one of the possessed. He gasped and sagged, fell to his knees and keeled over. The remaining sorcerer grabbed China and slammed her against the wall.
Frightening was pushing back, the blade moving away from his throat with agonising slowness. It was all Tanith could do to watch the inevitable happen. In another few seconds, the blade would be far enough away for Frightening to start squirming beneath her. He’d throw her off, the battle would resume, and she’d more than likely die.
She thought of Ghastly, of the brief kiss she’d given him. All that time wasted. To die here and now, killed on this cold ground by a man she had cared for yet never loved, it was almost more than she could bear. She had thought she had all the time in the world to find the right moment with Ghastly. The curse of immortality, she reckoned, was procrastination.
Tanith flipped her body vertically, till she was in a handstand with both hands still on the sword. Frightening’s eyes widened as her full weight bore down on him, but her balance was easily shifted. She sprang away before he could try anything tricky, snatching up her sword as he got to his feet.
China, meanwhile, was getting down and dirty with the remaining mage. They rolled across the ground, China’s hair in her face. Finally, China simply grabbed the sorcerer’s head and slammed it down on the concrete, once, twice. Satisfied that her opponent was no longer a threat, she got up, breathing hard and looking angry.
The pupils dissolved in Frightening’s eyes, leaving them pure white and glowing. Tanith cursed, had to dive to avoid the stream of white light that burst out. She got behind a metal desk, felt the heat and heard the metal sizzle all around her. Abruptly, the light moved, and she peered out, saw Frightening closing in on China. China’s forearms were pressed together, forming the sigil that erected the shield between her and Frightening’s eye beams. Tanith had always thought those eye beams were among the coolest of Adept powers to have. She didn’t think they were quite so cool today.
“Keep the shield up!” she shouted. “He can’t sustain that level of intensity for more than a few seconds!”
“If you’re bored,” China shouted back, “you could always lend a hand.”
“Nonsense! You’re doing great!”
Frightening swivelled his head, the twin beams scorching towards her, forcing Tanith to duck back behind cover. She felt the heat die, and the brightness falter, and risked another peek to see Frightening blinking his pupils back into service.
“Now!” she called, lunging from cover.
For a few moments after using his power, Frightening was left blind as his magic recharged. China hit him from the side and Tanith leaped, both boots crunching into his jaw. He sprawled, his sword clanging to the floor. In an instant, China was leaning over him, her hand pressing against his forehead. He screamed, then went silent, but China kept her hand on his forehead, making his body jerk. Tanith grabbed China and yanked her back.
China’s elbow cracked against Tanith’s cheek and Tanith held up her hands.
“Stop! Wait! What the hell was that?”
China narrowed her eyes. “You attacked me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. You’re one of them.”
Tanith stared at her. “Did you see a Remnant slide down my throat? No, you bloody didn’t!”
“Then why did you stop me?”
“Because you were going to kill him!”
“He was going to kill us, you stupid girl.”
“No, China, he was going to lie there and be unconscious. Once that thing is out of him, he’s a good guy again. The same goes for most of these people that you don’
t seem to have a problem using lethal force against.”
Without taking her eyes from Tanith’s, China tied her hair back off her face. “If it’s a choice between them or me, I pick me. Your little concessions of mercy are going to get you killed.”
Tanith wiped blood from her lip and didn’t respond.
46
ACCORDING TO PLAN
The shield held.
Its colour deepened with each impact. With each attempt to break through, it would darken, then fade, and then the attacks would begin again and the Hibernian Cinema would be covered by a blue dome of energy.
The sorcerers outside were taking turns, fifty of them each time, throwing everything they had at Kenspeckle’s defences.
The defenders went where they were needed – constantly repelling attacks and forcing back intruders. It was exhausting. Valkyrie fought her way from one side of the building to the other and back again. She was cut and bleeding and bruised and she couldn’t catch her breath.
There was a crash from a corridor behind her, and she heard Tanith shout, “They’re in!”
Valkyrie ran to help. Tanith was locked in a struggle with a black-lipped sorcerer, the pair of them rolling amid the debris around the massive hole in the middle of the floor. Another sorcerer was climbing up, and Valkyrie snapped her palm at the air, sending a rock hurtling into his face. The sorcerer fell back with a scream of pain, but another one took his place before the scream was even half done.
A flash of red light blinded her and she felt something hot sizzle by her cheek. She stumbled back, hands out against the air. There was a disturbance, something big coming for her. She clicked her fingers and flicked out a fireball, heard rapid cursing in response. She blinked quickly, able to see shapes now, and she saw the figure as he batted out the flames on his shirt. She gathered shadows and sent them roughly to where his head should be. His blurred form spun in mid-air and dropped.
Valkyrie squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, vision clearing, in time to see Tanith rising off the unconscious sorcerer she’d been struggling with. Another black-lipped man climbed up into the room and Tanith met him, ducking the swipe of a knife and firing back three punches in return. The man grunted and the knife dropped. Tanith caught him with a kick that toppled him backwards into the hole.