Playing with Fire (Skulduggery Pleasant, Book 2)

by Derek Landy

  "But that's not a Faceless One, is it? At least not a whole one. I expect it's a tad fragile, actually, after spending all that time locked away in a wall. And I'm betting all this has taken a lot out of you, too. That one little bomb could take you both out at the same time. Well, I say little, but it's actually about fifteen times more powerful than the last one I threw at you, and you remember how sore that was."

  Sanguine pushed Valkyrie closer to the slab.

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  "You'll kill her right along with all of us."

  "I don't have to," Skulduggery said patiently. "I either press this button and foil your insidious plot and kill my friend while I'm at it, or I don't, and we leave, and you just wait another three years for the next lunar eclipse. It's up to you, Baron."

  Vengeous observed him. "Take her."

  Dusk stepped forward. "The girl must die!"

  "Silence!" Vengeous roared. He locked eyes with Dusk until the vampire backed down, the flickering candles playing with his scar.

  Vengeous looked back at Skulduggery. "Take the girl," he sneered. "You won't get far."

  "We'll get far enough. Valkyrie?"

  Valkyrie held her hands out to Sanguine.

  He glared at her, then put his straight razor on the slab and muttered. He undid the shackles and stepped back. Valkyrie joined Skulduggery as he stood and moved into the aisle, but not before she snatched up the straight razor.

  "Hey!" Sanguine shouted.

  "Be quiet," Vengeous snapped.

  "She has my blade!"

  "I said be quiet!"

  Sanguine shut up. Valkyrie folded the blade

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  into its handle and stuck it in her pocket. She moved backward, at Skulduggery's side, and the Infected moved with them.

  "You're only delaying the inevitable," Vengeous said. "With this armor, I am the most powerful living being in this world."

  "But are you happy?" Skulduggery mused, clicking the fingers of his free hand and summoning a flame. He cast the fireball behind them, at the ground near the doorway. The Infected hissed at the flames. Vengeous still hadn't moved any nearer to the satchel of explosives.

  "I will take you apart, abomination."

  "So at least I have that to look forward to," Skulduggery said. "You won't want to make any sudden moves until we reach the road-- I'll know if you crazy kids disturb the air around the nice bag of explosives."

  "Blow it up," Valkyrie murmured out of the corner of her mouth.

  "Can't do that," Skulduggery replied in a whisper. He moved his hand and the flames parted in the doorway and they backed through them, out into the night air.

  "Why not?"

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  "Not a bomb," he replied softly. "It's a bag with a collapsible jack, for changing tires."

  "What about the remote?"

  "It opens my garage door. Don't tell them, but it doesn't even have any batteries in it."

  He waved his hand and the flames came together again to block off the exit. They kept walking backward to the Bentley, keeping eye contact with the Infected through the flames, making sure no one cheated and rushed out too early.

  "Do we have a plan?" she asked as they backed away from the church.

  "We need to get the Grotesquery away from the bad guys," he said, "so we'll have to split up. I'm going to leave; you're going to hide under the van, wait until they load the Grotesquery in there, and then you're going to drive off, right out from under their noses."

  "What?"

  "It'll be really funny, trust me."

  "Skulduggery, I'm thirteen. I can't drive."

  He looked at her. "What do you mean you can't drive?"

  "Am I talking in code? I can't drive Skulduggery."

  "But you've seen others drive, haven't you?

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  You've seen me drive. I daresay you've seen your parents drive. So you know the fundamentals."

  She stared at him. "I know the big round thing sticking out of the dashboard turns the wheels. That fundamental enough for you?"

  "The van over there is an automatic. You put it in drive, you go. You press one pedal, you go fast; you press another pedal, you stop. Easy."

  She stared at him.

  "Oh bloody hell," she muttered, and darted for the van, sliding beneath it as Skulduggery jumped into the Bentley.

  The Bentley's engine roared, the tires spun, and it sped away from the church as a wave of darkness erupted from the doorway, extinguishing the flames. Dusk led the Infected as they poured out into the night, followed by Baron Vengeous, tendrils of shadows wrapping and coiling around him like angry snakes. He hurled the satchel to the ground, and the jack bounced into the long grass. He whipped the darkness against an Infected woman, who was blasted off her feet by the impact and went sailing high through the air.

  Valkyrie stayed under the van and kept very, very quiet.

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  She saw Billy-Ray Sanguine walk up.

  "She took my blade," he said. "Again."

  "I don't care about your blade," Vengeous snapped. He turned to one of the Infected. "You. Move the Grotesquery into the van. This place will soon be teeming with Cleavers, and I can't risk them damaging it."

  The Infected hurried into the church, then came back out, carrying the crate. Taking extra care, they loaded it into the van. They moved back toward the church, waiting for more orders, and Valkyrie slid herself from cover and got to her feet. She could hear Vengeous issuing commands from the other side of the van, and she took a deep breath and reached for the door.

  It opened with a faint click and she got in slowly, keeping low. The key was in the ignition. She looked around to get her bearings, risked a glance out the window at the bad guys, and then turned the key. The engine came to life.

  Vengeous turned his head and frowned, moved to where he could see who was behind the wheel.

  Valkyrie pulled the stick down to drive and stamped her foot on the accelerator. She yelped as the van shot forward, fought to gain control of the

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  steering. This was not fun.

  She wrenched the wheel to the right to avoid a tree, trying her best to keep the van on the narrow road. She saw the Infected running behind, but she couldn't afford to give them too much attention. It was seriously dark outside, and she didn't know where the lights were.

  She took one hand off the wheel long enough to flick a lever, and the wipers dragged themselves across the dry windshield. She went over a rock and bounced in her seat. She tried another lever, and the turn signal started blinking. Cursing Skulduggery, she moved it up, down, to the side, then tried twisting it, and the headlamps suddenly lit up the road ahead, just in time for Valkyrie to cry out as the van swerved off the trail and hurtled over a hill.

  Valkyrie was thrown around in her seat. Keeping one hand tight on the wheel, she clutched at the seat belt, yanking it across her. She glanced down, trying to find the latch that the seat belt clicked into. The bottom of the hill met up with the road again, and she tried to steer onto it, but the van just kept going and plunged down the next hill.

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  Valkyrie grabbed the seat belt again, this time finding the latch, and the seat belt clicked in and Valkyrie turned her full attention to driving, as the van hit a rocky outcrop, spun sideways, and rolled.

  Valkyrie smacked her head against the window as the world turned around her. She heard glass breaking and metal crunching. She protected her head as she pitched forward, and her arms slammed into the steering wheel, honking the horn. The van rolled onto another road and settled back onto its four wheels.

  "Owww," Valkyrie moaned. She looked up to the cracked windshield. Headlights. A car and a motorcycle were approaching, at speed.

  Valkyrie pulled the door handle, and had to hit the door with her shoulder to open it. She tried to get out but the seat belt wouldn't let her. She fumbled at the orange button, and the belt retracted. Valkyrie stumbled out as the motorbike screeched to a halt.


  The Bentley braked hard and Skulduggery jumped out, ran to her, and caught her as her legs gave way.

  Words were exchanged, but Valkyrie couldn't make sense of most of them. There was a fuzz in

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  her head as Skulduggery carried her to the Bentley. Her arm was hurting. She opened her eyes to see Tanith loading her bike into the back of the van, beside the crate, then getting in behind the wheel. Skulduggery said something in a faraway voice and Vallkyrie tried to answer, but her tongue was too heavy and all the strength left her body.

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  Chapter Twenty-three

  ELEPHANTS AND BUNNIES

  KENSPECKLE POKED HER arm. "Does that hurt?"

  "No," Valkyrie answered.

  He nodded, scribbled something in his notebook. "Have you eaten?"

  "One of your assistants brought me a burger for breakfast."

  He sighed. "I meant, have you eaten sensibly?"

  "I was very sensible while I was eating the burger. Didn't miss my mouth once."

  He prodded her again. "What about that? Does that hurt?"

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  "Ow."

  "I'll take that as a yes. Hopefully, the pain will teach you not to break yourself when your van crashes."

  Kenspeckle scribbled something else, and Valkyrie looked around. There were no windows in here, but she could guess what kind of morning it was. Bright, blue-skied, sunny, and warm.

  Kenspeckle closed his notebook and nodded. "You're making an excellent recovery," he said. "One more hour, the bone will be healed."

  "Thanks, Kenspeckle."

  "Think nothing of it."

  "And, you know, sorry about what I said yesterday, about the salt water and the vampires. ..."

  Kenspeckle chuckled. "Don't you worry about me, Valkyrie. I'm tougher than I look. Last night, when the nightmares came, they weren't so bad. I remember them being awful. Now, you just lie back there and let the muck do its work."

  Feeling more guilty than ever, Valkyrie settled back on the bed. The mixture that coated her entire right arm was cold and slimy. It had to be reapplied every twenty minutes as its magical properties were absorbed through the skin.

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  She heard Skulduggery come into the medical bay. His fight with Vengeous had resulted in a fractured collarbone and a few cracked ribs. She looked over at him and laughed.

  He stared at her. He was wearing a bright pink hospital gown, decorated with elephants and bunnies. It hung off him like a sheet on a hat stand.

  "How come she gets the blue hospital gown?" he asked Kenspeckle.

  "Hmm?" mumbled the professor.

  Skulduggery's head tilted unhappily. "You said the only gowns you had left were these pink bunny ones, but Valkyrie is wearing a perfectly respectable blue one."

  "Your point being?"

  "Why am I wearing this ridiculous gown?"

  "Because it amuses me."

  Kenspeckle walked out, and Skulduggery looked over at her. "The important thing," he said, "is that I can wear this gown and still maintain my dignity."

  "Yes," she responded automatically. "Yes you can."

  "You can stop grinning anytime now."

  "I am so trying, I swear."

  He walked over, and when he spoke his voice

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  had changed slightly, tinged with concern. "Feeling okay?"

  "Yes."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. No. I don't know. Whatever happens with the Grotesquery, it's my fault."

  "Nonsense."

  "But I'm the missing ingredient."

  "That doesn't make it your fault, Valkyrie. However, if you insist on taking responsibility for something you never had any control over, you can use that to make yourself stronger. You're going to need all the strength you can muster, especially when Dusk catches up to you."

  She frowned. "Why Dusk?"

  "Oh, yes, something I should maybe mention. Dusk will be wanting to kill you. He has a history of vendettas. He holds a grudge, and he doesn't let it go until he's spilled blood."

  "And because I cut his face . . . ?"

  "You cut his face with Sanguine's blade, the scars from which do not heal."

  "Ah. That'd . . . that'd make him pretty mad, wouldn't it?"

  "I just thought you'd like to know."

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  "So what are we going to do about Guild? Since he's working with the bad guys and everything ... ?"

  "Now, we don't know that. It's not fact. Not yet." Skulduggery was quiet for a moment. "Even so, it would be foolish not to take precautions. We will report back to Guild if and when we have to. At no time will we tell him what we're planning, where we're going, or who we're hoping to punch next. Agreed?"

  "Agreed. So he doesn't know we have the Grotesquery?"

  "I may have forgotten to tell him. I did remember to tell Mr. Bliss, though, so he has organized three Cleavers to provide security. Any more than that, unfortunately, and it would come to the attention of the Grand Mage."

  "I just hope you realize, after Sagacious Tome and now Guild, that I'm never going to be able to trust anyone in a position of authority, ever again."

  His head tilted. "You don't view me as an authority figure?"

  She laughed. Then stopped. "Oh. I'm sorry, you were serious?"

  "That's lovely, that is," he said, and Kenspeckle wandered in.

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  "Detective, you will no doubt be happy to know that my assistants are moving the Grotesquery into my brand-new private morgue, where it will clutter up the place just when I've finally managed to get everything in order."

  Valkyrie frowned. "What would you need a private morgue for?"

  "Experiments," Kenspeckle said. "Experiments so bizarre and unnatural they would surely make you vomit."

  "Professor Grouse," Skulduggery said, "we brought the Grotesquery here not only because your facility is more advanced than the Sanctuary's, but also because you are the leading expert in science magic."

  "Mm," Kenspeckle said gruffly. "It is, And I am."

  "We need your help. We have a chance to dismantle the Grotesquery and hide the pieces all over the world so it can never be put back together, and we need you to do it."

  "Fine," Kenspeckle said gruffly. "But you, Valkyrie, must rest. And you, Detective, must not place her in any danger for the next, oh, let's say an hour. Do we have a deal?"

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  "I can rest," Valkyrie said. "And I can manage an hour," Skulduggery said. "All right then," said Kenspeckle. "If you'll excuse me, I have a monster to take apart."

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  Chapter Twenty-four

  Argus

  THE OLD HOSPITAL was steeped in dead terror and stale tears. How many people had breathed their last while lying on those small beds? How many had spent their final nights in those tiny rooms, sleeping fitfully while their nightmares rampaged across the landscapes of their minds? When Baron Vengeous walked these halls, he fancied he could count every single one of them.

  The psychiatric ward was the best. Here, even without the sensitivities brought on by his new armor, he could sense the echoes of fear, madness, and desperation. But with the armor, these echoes soaked into him, making

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  him stronger. He felt his armor flourish, after all those years of neglect in that cavern.

  This would be the perfect place for the Grotesquery to break down the borders between realities, open the portal, and invite the Faceless Ones to return. Now all he needed was the Grotesquery itself-- but that wasn't going to be a problem. For all his flashes of rage and his fearsome temper, Vengeous was a military man, first and foremost. True, he had suffered a setback, but he had already initiated a plan to rectify the situation.

  One of the Infected was standing farther along the corridor, and it opened the door as he approached. He could tell by its eyes that it was close to becoming a true vampire. He had already ordered Dusk to kill them all before that happened. Dusk, because of the serums he
used, controlled the vampire part of himself, but the Infected would be far too unpredictable to keep around.

  Vengeous focused on the armor, drawing it back in. He had been letting it writhe and revel in the collected anguish of the old building, but now it was time for business.

  Billy-Ray Sanguine was waiting for him. There was a man shackled to an operating table, and when Vengeous walked into the room, the man's eyes widened.

  "Impossible," he breathed. "You're dead. You're . . . it can't be you, you 're dead!"

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  Vengeous realized that with the helmet obscuring his face, the man thought Vengeous was Lord Vile, risen from the grave to exact a terrible revenge. He said nothing.

  "This is a trick!" the man said, straining against his shackles. "I don't know what you think you 're doing, but you 've made a huge mistake! Do you even know who I am?"

  "Sure we do," Sanguine drawled. "You 're a lily-livered sorcerer who's managed to stay alive by runnin' from every conceivable fight. Why do you think we chose you?"

  "Chose me?" the man repeated. "Chose me for what?"

  "For a quick answer," Vengeous said, aware that the helmet even made him sound like Vile.

  The man paled. He was sweating already. "What. .. what do you want to know?"

  "As you can probably tell," Sanguine said, "I ain 't from around these parts. And the gentleman who is makin' you mess your britches right now . . . well, he's been away for a time. So we need you, chuckles, to tell us where someone might go with the inanimate corpse of a half god in order to, oh, I dunno, destroy it."

  The man licked his lips. "And . . . and then you 'll let me go?"

  "Yeah, why not?"