Skulduggery Pleasant: Last Stand of Dead Men
Page 29
Fletcher nodded, gave a good luck wink to Valkyrie, and then a light hit them and Valkyrie felt her whole body start to buzz. Skulduggery was in front of her and the light was making him glow so much he was almost transparent. Suddenly they were all moving, walking forward, through the wall, and Valkyrie couldn’t help it, she closed her eyes as she passed through the bricks. When she opened them, they were standing in a dimly-lit storeroom, and none of them were glowing any more.
No words were spoken. Saracen moved to the door, nodded to the others, and they swarmed out into the corridor, weapons ready to fire. Valkyrie stayed in the middle. She’d been through the door enough times with Skulduggery to know what to do in situations like this, but it was very different going through with a team. At any given moment there were guns pointed in five or six different directions. When it was just the two of them, Skulduggery would scan all corners, check all doorways and clear all rooms. As a squad, though, they all seemed to rely on Saracen’s hand signals for which rooms were empty and which rooms were occupied. Obeying without question, they avoided every possible confrontation. Saracen Rue knows things, they’d said. They hadn’t been exaggerating.
Their passage through the building was done in silence. Even the way they moved was silent – their quick footsteps strangely muted on the polished floor. Security cameras were disabled as they went.
Almost one minute after they had arrived, they split up without a word. Valkyrie and Skulduggery took the stairs towards the Repository, avoiding all sorcerers who passed. They reached a corner, and peered round.
At the doors to the Repository, a boy of around fifteen was standing beside a Cleaver. While the Cleaver stood straight and unmoving, the boy was obviously having a hard time keeping still. Valkyrie felt Skulduggery’s arm encircle her waist, pull her tight to his side. They waited there for the boy to get so bored that he started to look around. And then he did it. The boy glanced at the Cleaver beside him, taking his eyes off the corridor, and Skulduggery lunged, taking Valkyrie with him. They flew towards the Repository. The Cleaver snapped his head round, but it was too late. Valkyrie slammed into the boy and Skulduggery collided with the Cleaver. Such was the force of the collision that the Repository doors burst open and all four of them fell through.
Valkyrie rolled with the boy, glimpsing his wide eyes, the shock on his face. She got to her feet, hauled him up. He tried to hit her, but she caught his arm, pinned it between them. He struggled, but she was stronger than he was. She didn’t want to hurt him. He was still in training. He was just doing what he was told. But then he opened his mouth to shout and she didn’t have a choice. Her gauntlet-clad elbow cracked into his jaw, and he was suddenly a dead weight in her arms. She laid him on the floor and turned to Skulduggery just as he managed to get the Cleaver in a sleeper hold. When the Cleaver’s struggles ceased, Skulduggery dumped him on the ground and straightened his tie.
The Repository was bigger than the one in Ireland, but as Valkyrie walked the aisles she decided that the artefacts on display were simply not as impressive, and there were a lot of gaps on those shelves. She reached the end of the first row, saw an empty glass case up a few steps. The plaque on the side informed her that it was meant to hold the God-Killer sword, and she wondered why they hadn’t bothered removing it yet. Tanith had stolen the sword and Sanguine had melted it down. No matter how much they hoped and prayed, that case was going to remain empty.
She started down the second row, scanning the shelves. She got to the end, to where Skulduggery had shackled the Cleaver and the boy, and then Skulduggery walked out of the aisle to her right.
“Found one,” he said, tossing her the cloaking sphere. They moved to the doors and she twisted the hemispheres away from each other. A bubble of invisibility enveloped them as they stepped out.
Staying close, they jogged the length of the corridor, took the stairs up. They passed a half-dozen mages, each one as oblivious to their presence as the last. When they got to the top floor, their progress slowed, as Skulduggery had to deactivate each security measure they came across. Finally, they made it to a set of white marble steps that led up to another corridor, this one decorated with paintings on the walls. A dark-haired girl dressed in black, around Valkyrie’s age, stood at the base of the steps with her eyes fixed on the floor as an older mage scolded her.
“You have an assignment,” he was saying. “Do you know what that is? We brought you in here with the others because we thought you were up to the task. You want to work in the Sanctuary once your training is complete, don’t you?”
The girl muttered something.
“What was that? I didn’t hear you, Ivy.”
“Yes,” the girl said sullenly.
“And is this how you intend to achieve that goal? By slacking off?”
Ivy shrugged. “It’s boring.”
The mage stiffened. “What?”
She looked at him. “It’s boring. Standing in the same place for hours. I got bored.”
“So you went for a walk?”
“I just want to be near the action.”
“There is no action, Ivy. Everyone on guard duty is as bored as you are, but they don’t let it affect them. They do their duty. You should feel honoured. You’re the last sentry before the Grand Mage’s office. I expect more from you, do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Ivy said, then added a “sir” for good measure.
The mage sighed. “Return to your post. I’ll be back shortly.”
The mage walked off, passing within arm’s reach of Valkyrie, and Ivy rolled her eyes at his back, then plodded up the steps.
“I’ll take him out,” Skulduggery said. “You take the girl.”
Skulduggery stepped out of the bubble and hurried after the mage. Valkyrie reduced the size of the bubble so that it was just big enough to conceal her, then put the sphere in her jacket pocket. She climbed the steps and stood right in front of Ivy for a moment. Such an odd feeling, to be this close to someone without them knowing. She moved around behind, loosened her arms in her sleeves, and stepped up for a sleeper hold.
Then the sphere fell from her pocket and bounced on the floor, and she looked down at it as it rolled away. The instant she was out of the bubble the sphere vanished from sight.
She looked up again. Ivy was staring at her.
A moment.
Valkyrie moved, but Ivy was faster. Her hand shot out, the heel of her palm smacking into Valkyrie’s cheek. Valkyrie stumbled, absorbed two knee shots to the belly without much trouble, but was too slow to avoid the elbow that slammed into her ear. She reeled, cursing with the pain, and Ivy jumped on her back, legs wrapped round her while she went for a sleeper hold of her own. Immediately Valkyrie tucked her chin to her chest, but Ivy’s arm tightened across her face instead. Valkyrie staggered. The pressure increased. Her jaw felt like it was about to dislocate.
Valkyrie bent over, tried to throw Ivy off, but her hooks were in good and tight. The pain from the face crank was making her eyes water. Her mouth was open. She couldn’t close it.
She tilted again, almost losing her balance, almost falling. She couldn’t fall. If she fell, it was game over. At least standing she had a chance of shaking Ivy off.
Ivy’s weight shifted slightly. She was trying desperately to stay in place, but gravity was dragging her forward. Valkyrie shook herself harder. She stopped trying to pull the arms away from her face, and instead she went to Ivy’s feet, dragging them slowly apart. She gave another jerk and Ivy slid off her back and the pressure was gone. She straightened, gasping, but Ivy pushed at the air and Valkyrie crunched into the wall. She rebounded, stumbled towards Ivy as she stood, and went for the stick on her back. Her hand grasped at empty space and Ivy hit her, right on the chin.
The world spun and Valkyrie’s knees gave out and she fell. The stick was lying on the ground next to her head.
“I just want to tell you,” Ivy said, standing over her, “that I am a huge fan.”
She kic
ked and Valkyrie tumbled down the steps and sprawled out across the floor.
“We’re the same age, actually,” Ivy continued, walking down after her. “You’re a few months older, but we’re basically the same age. We kind of look alike too, don’t we? You’re a bit taller, but we could be sisters, if people didn’t know us. They’d probably think we’re sisters.”
Valkyrie got to her hands and knees and Ivy slammed a kick into her ribs.
“I used to hear all the stories about you and Skulduggery. I mean, you were my age, you hadn’t even had your Surge, but you were out there, saving the world and fighting the Faceless Ones and Remnants and … OK, this is going to sound really lame, but it’s because of you that I decided to be an Elemental.”
Ivy waved her hand, and Valkyrie shot off the ground, flipping head over heels into a wall. She crashed to the ground.
“I had wanted to be an Energy-Thrower,” Ivy continued, “because my friend was going to be an Energy-Thrower so I thought I’d do it, too. But then you came along and I mean, yeah, OK, you do a little Necromancy, but really you’re an Elemental, right? Like, that’s what you’re going to choose when all this is over, isn’t it? Have you ever tried Energy-Throwing? It is so cool.”
Valkyrie pulled herself up and a stream of energy burst from Ivy’s hand and struck her shoulder, spinning her on the spot.
“But if you become an Elemental after the Surge, then I want to as well. It’d be another thing we have in common. Wouldn’t it be great? Maybe we could team up sometime. That would be amazing.”
Valkyrie backed away.
“I know I probably sound like the biggest nerd in the world,” Ivy laughed, “but you’ve just … you’ve inspired me the way no one has before. I heard you were doing all this fight training so I started to do fight training.”
Ivy lunged with a jab straight to Valkyrie’s nose, followed it with an elbow to the side of the face and then she grabbed her, hip-threw her to the floor.
“We’re even dressed alike,” she continued, as Valkyrie struggled to get up. “But your clothes are those special kind, aren’t they? They protect you? Yeah, they’re really hard to get, so …” She blushed. “And I can’t believe I’m about to ask this, but do you think maybe you could talk to your tailor for me? Get him to make me some clothes? Do you think he would?”
Valkyrie got to one knee, wiped her eyes to clear them and felt her nose. It was tender to the touch. A trickle of blood ran down to her lip. “Make you clothes?” she muttered. “What size are you?”
Ivy’s eyes widened in delight, and her hands went to her mouth. “You’ll ask him? You’d do that for me? You have no idea how much that—”
The moment Ivy took her hands away from her face Valkyrie’s fist found her jaw. Ivy pinwheeled back, hit the wall and slid along it, doing her best to stay upright.
“You have issues,” Valkyrie told her. “Seriously. You do.”
Ivy lurched towards her, then her eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped, unconscious.
Resisting the urge to kick her, Valkyrie wiped the blood from her nose and went back to pick up her stick. Then she walked from wall to wall in a tight pattern, eyes on the floor, until she stepped through the invisibility bubble and the cloaking sphere appeared in front of her. She deactivated it, put it in her pocket, made sure it wouldn’t fall out this time.
“You look a little worse for wear,” Skulduggery said as he strolled back.
Valkyrie scowled at Ivy’s unconscious form. “She cheated. She was better than me.”
Skulduggery shrugged. “And yet you’re standing and she isn’t. You even managed to stop her from sounding the alarm.”
“She didn’t even try to,” Valkyrie said. “She was too busy yapping. Apparently I’m her hero.”
“There really is no accounting for taste,” he responded, starting down the corridor.
She walked beside him. “Shut up. I’m a great role model. I have many admirable features.”
“Tight trousers don’t count.”
“What, now there are criteria?”
They quietened down as they approached the door to Ode’s office. Skulduggery took off his hat, laid it on the ground and then pulled his gun from its holster. Valkyrie’s hand went to the door handle. At Skulduggery’s nod she twisted and pushed it open and Skulduggery stormed in.
Ode lurched to his feet behind his desk as Skulduggery pushed at the air, and managed to brace his open palm against the rippling onslaught, deflecting it around him. Valkyrie darted to one side, whipping shadows at Ode’s arm, but the air moved sharply and cut through the tendril. Even as it dissipated, a column of air slammed into her chest and drove her back. She tumbled, glimpsing Skulduggery jumping over the desk and colliding with Ode. Shadows coiling round her hand, she crossed to the desk in three strides, only relaxing when she saw Skulduggery’s gun jammed beneath the Grand Mage’s chin.
“Hello, Cothernus,” Skulduggery said.
is free hand taking hold of Ode’s robe, Skulduggery pulled him to his feet. Valkyrie hurried around, shackling the old man’s hands behind his back. Only then did Skulduggery step away. But he kept his gun levelled.
“You’re not going to win,” Ode said, his face tight.
“War isn’t about winning or losing,” Skulduggery replied. “It’s about playing the … oh, no, wait, it is about winning or losing. And we’re winning. We have you, don’t we?”
“I am not the Supreme Council,” said Ode.
“No, but you’re a pretty big piece.”
“So what are you going to do? Parade me around in chains? Execute me? It doesn’t matter. The others will not stop until you are defeated.”
“Nonsense. The others will stop when this becomes a war they cannot afford to fight. They’ll stop when they run out of leaders. They’ll stop when they run out of supporters. There are many reasons they’ll stop, Cothernus. You just have to use your imagination.”
“Glib answers won’t win this war, but that’s all you have, isn’t it? How do you expect to get me out of here? Do you even have a plan? Someone like you—”
Valkyrie took a hood from her pocket, and pulled it over Ode’s head. The moment it was in place his words were muted. He could be screaming at the top of his voice and no one would hear it.
“Thank you,” Skulduggery said to her. “I fear he was about to start insulting me.”
“I couldn’t let that happen,” she said. “Your ego is a fragile and delicate thing.”
“You see? You understand me.”
A bubble of invisibility enveloped them again, and they hurried through the Sanctuary. No alarms raised yet, which was a good sign. When they got to the Great Chamber, Saracen was already here, a bag slung over his shoulder. He had found a sigil carved into the wall and was in the process of making his own adjustments, which would render it inert. Ghastly and Ravel led Illori Reticent into the Great Chamber, her head covered like Ode’s. Vex and Shudder came next, Palaver Graves unconscious and carried over Shudder’s shoulder.
“He put up a fight?” Vex asked.
“He wouldn’t stop screaming,” Shudder answered. “Have all of the sigils been found?”
“There should be another one over there somewhere,” Saracen said, nodding to the wall on his left, but not looking up from what he was doing.
Ravel hurried over, started running his hand over the wall’s surface.
“Encounter any resistance?” Skulduggery asked.
“Some,” said Ghastly. “We probably don’t have an awful lot of time.” An alarm started wailing. “Though I could be wrong.”
Skulduggery drew his gun and Valkyrie joined him at the doorway. Cleavers and sorcerers ran by. Skulduggery closed the door and splayed his hand, the air pressure keeping it tightly shut. “How are the sigils coming along, gentlemen?”
“Disabled,” said Saracen, running over to help Ravel just as he found the last one.
The door handle turned. Someone knocked, and a man
’s voice called, “Uh, hello?”
Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery, looked back at the others, looked at Skulduggery again.
“Hello,” Skulduggery said, speaking loudly to be heard over the alarm.
“Hi,” said the man. “The door’s locked.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s funny,” said Skulduggery. “Hold on a moment.” He reached out, jiggled the handle a few times, then stepped back. “Yes, it’s locked. You wouldn’t happen to have the key, would you?”
There was a delay in response from the other side. “I’m sorry,” the man called, “who am I speaking with?”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “Who am I speaking with?”
“This is Oscar Nightfall.”
“Are you sure?”
“What?”
“Are you sure you are who you say you are? This is the Great Chamber, after all. It’s a very important place for very important people. It is not beyond the realms of possibility that someone, and I’m not saying that this applies to you in particular, but someone could conceivably lie about who they are in order to gain access to this room. I have to be vigilant, especially now. There’s a war on, you know.”
Oscar Nightfall sounded puzzled. “Who are you?”
“Me? I’m nobody. I’m a cleaner. I’m one of the cleaners. I was cleaning the thrones and the door shut behind me. Now I can’t get out. Could you try and find a key?”
“What’s your name? Give me your name.”
“No. It’s mine.”
“Tell me your name!”
“My name is Oscar Nightfall.”
“What? No it isn’t. That’s my name.”
“It is? Since when?”
“Since I took it!”
“You didn’t ask me if you could take it. I was using it first.”
“Open this door immediately.”
“I don’t have the key.”
“I’ll fetch the Cleavers.”
“I found the key. It was in the keyhole. It’s always the last place you look, isn’t it? I’m unlocking the door now. Here we go.”