by Derek Landy
“I heard some of them killed sorcerers as well as Warlocks, when they were out of control. Maybe you have some criminal charges against them? If you can guarantee their safety, we will of course hand them over. Providing you reciprocate.”
“And what is it you want?”
“You have Erskine Ravel in a cell, do you not? Erskine and I have a … history. I would greatly appreciate it if he were transferred to one of our prisons here, where we can monitor his condition.”
“His condition?” said Vex. “His condition is twenty-three hours of untold agony a day, followed by one hour of respite, where he gets to eat, drink, and look forward to the next twenty-three hours.”
Zafira nodded. “And what have you done to alleviate his suffering?”
“Ravel’s pain is a result of a direct link to Darquesse,” said Rue. “It can’t be alleviated.”
“But really,” Zafira responded, “how hard have you tried? He killed your friends, after all. You can’t be feeling overly concerned about his well-being, now can you? Have you run any more tests since Darquesse was captured? Have you found out why the link is still active, now that she’s trapped in a Soul Catcher? It shouldn’t be active, should it? My experts tell me so. The moment Darquesse was pulled into that Soul Catcher, the link should have been severed and Erskine’s pain should have ceased. There’s a mystery to be unravelled there. Let us solve it for you.”
Skulduggery’s head tilted. “How close were you? In the run-up to the war, I mean. Were you by his side when he hatched his plans? Were you there when he decided to betray and kill his friends and overthrow mortal rule on earth?”
“Of course not,” said Zafira. “I knew nothing of—”
“Don’t insult our intelligence and we won’t insult yours. The only reason you’re not in chains right now is because Grand Mage Sorrows thought it prudent not to issue arrest orders for everyone at the same time. We know what you did, but as long as you do what we tell you, we’ll pretend that we don’t. Do I make myself clear?”
Zafira reddened. “You cannot speak to me like that. I am the Grand Mage of—”
“Do I make myself clear?” Skulduggery said, louder this time.
Zafira glared.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.
“I had hoped this conversation would be a little friendlier,” Zafira responded, “but fair enough. We both know where we stand now. That’s something, at least.”
“I’m glad you think so. We’ll be leaving now.”
Zafira waved a hand dismissively. “Give my love to China, won’t you? You know, when I think of how far we’ve come, I can’t help but feel proud of our forgiving attitude to people who’ve wronged us. Why, now we have one of Mevolent’s most fanatical followers running the Irish Sanctuary, and bullying every other Sanctuary into doing her bidding. It truly is a great time to be—”
The door burst open and a sorcerer Darquesse had met once ran in. What was her name? Vinette, or something? “Grand Mage,” Vinette said, her face flushed with alarm. “We have a situation.”
26
WEIRD FEELINGS
haos reigned, and Darquesse was enjoying every minute of it.
Alarms went off. Sirens screeched. Teams of sorcerers were sent into different parts of the New York Sanctuary. More teams were coming back, bloodied and carrying injured comrades. The renegades were going nuts and it was seemingly impossible to figure out where they all were. Darquesse sat with Skulduggery and the others in the lobby, and they made themselves comfortable. It was only when Zafira Kerias stalked up to them that this changed.
“Detective Pleasant,” Zafira said, panic biting at her words, “we seem to have an emergency.”
Skulduggery looked around, then nodded. “Yep.”
Zafira grimaced. “I would appreciate any … assistance you could give us. Most of my operatives are at least twenty minutes away.”
“You’re officially requesting our assistance?”
“Yes, yes, whatever. Will you help?”
Skulduggery stood up. “We’d be delighted. Where would you like us?”
“Lower levels,” said Zafira. “We sent two teams down there and we’ve yet to hear anything back.”
“Then that is just the place we want to be,” Skulduggery said. “We’ll let you know when we’ve found them.”
Darquesse set off with everyone else, grinning to herself. This was fun.
They took this weird elevator-type thing down to the lower levels. Down here, the wail of the sirens was reduced to a distant scream.
“Stay together,” Skulduggery said, his gun in his hand as he led the way down the corridor. “We don’t know what these particular renegades can do and we don’t know if their powers are ebbing or surging. In any given minute, they could either kill us all with a look or fall down at a harsh word. They are not to be underestimated.”
He didn’t have to say this to Vex or Rue, and the Monster Hunters didn’t need to hear it. These words were for Stephanie and Fletcher and Darquesse. To protect them. Little gestures like that made Darquesse smile.
There were bodies up ahead.
Two dead. One unconscious. She recognised the injured girl. Tia. Blood ran from the gash above her eye. They moved on silently. Darquesse could sense the power ahead of them, lying in wait, but she didn’t say anything. She’d seen the list of renegades. She knew which one this was. Star, her name was. A pretty name. She was English, and her power was jumping and jiving along with her nerves.
Star burst from hiding when they got close. She took them all by surprise – all except Darquesse, who watched Dai go flying and Fletcher go reeling. Star hit Gracious and he flew back off his feet. Oh, this glorious power was making her strong! Darquesse nearly laughed to look at it. Skulduggery grabbed Star and she grabbed him and they went down. Stephanie and Saracen lunged, tried to pull her back. Vex and Donegan ran in, and between them they managed to haul Star off Skulduggery. Star twisted free, her hands lighting up. Before Darquesse knew what she was doing, she stepped forward, used her magic to send a column of air slamming into Star’s face. Star spun like she’d been hit with a hammer.
Odd, this new urge to lend a hand.
Darquesse watched Star charge through the others, come straight for her, swinging a punch. Darquesse could have increased her body’s density in an instant, watched Star shatter her fist upon impact. But she didn’t. She let the punch land, let it launch her backwards. She hit the ground and rolled and before she’d even finished sprawling, Skulduggery and the others were there, protecting her. She watched them fight, watched Star cover up under the onslaught. Star broke left, launched herself at Saracen. They went down, Saracen scrambling beneath her as they turned over, and Star let out a roar as her arm was snapped. She managed to get up, but Skulduggery kicked her knee sideways and Darquesse heard it go pop. Another roar from Star as she staggered, her magic boiling within her.
Darquesse could have killed her from where she lay on the ground. She could have burst her like a balloon, or taken her head off with a stream of energy. She could have got up and grabbed her and torn her heart from her chest. She didn’t do any of that. What she did do was to reach out with her magic and smother Star’s, keeping it from boiling over. She saw the confusion in the renegade girl’s face, as something that should have happened didn’t happen. Gracious finished the fight with a right hook that wiped the confusion away, replacing it with a look of serene relaxation as Star slumped to the floor. Donegan shackled her wrists.
Stephanie stood over Darquesse. One hand held the Sceptre. The other was reaching out to her.
Darquesse hesitated a moment, then clasped Stephanie’s hand, and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet.
“You OK?” Stephanie asked.
“Yeah,” said Darquesse. “Suppose I’m a little out of practice.”
Stephanie shrugged. “It’ll come back to you.”
That was it. That was all she was getting. Stephanie wandered awa
y, slipping the Sceptre into her backpack. Darquesse watched her go. She frowned. What was this she was feeling? This odd sensation?
Was it … warmth?
She shook her head, trying to dispel it. It felt both weirdly comfortable and uncomfortably weird, all at the same time.
She realised they were fussing over Fletcher. He was sitting against the wall, holding his head.
“I’m fine,” he muttered.
Saracen crouched in front of him, his hand splayed. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
Fletcher counted, frowned, then counted again. Finally satisfied, he nodded and said, “Six.”
“Oh, God,” Stephanie muttered. “He’s brain-damaged.”
Saracen helped Fletcher to his feet. “He’s fine, he just needs a doctor.”
“Be right back,” Fletcher said, and stood there. He blinked at Saracen. “Hello, Doctor.”
“You haven’t teleported,” Stephanie said.
“Oh.”
“He’ll need someone to walk him back,” said Skulduggery. “Valkyrie, can you do it?”
Stephanie frowned. “Her?”
“Valkyrie can protect him if they meet one of Star’s friends and, to be honest, we need you and the Sceptre to stay with us.”
“Right,” Stephanie said, unconvinced. Darquesse wished she’d put up more of an argument. She didn’t want to miss out on the fun.
As the others went on, Fletcher walked over to her on shaky legs. He looked pale. “You might have to carry me.”
“I’m not carrying you.”
“What if I fall over?”
“I’ll drag you.”
“That sounds painful.”
They started walking back the way they’d come. He walked so slowly.
“Can you teleport yet?” she asked.
“I’ll try,” he said, and took a moment. “Have I teleported?”
“No.”
“What about now?”
“No.”
“I don’t think I can teleport,” he admitted. “I need a clear head. My head isn’t clear. It’s ouchy.”
“Maybe I will carry you.”
“Really? That’d be cool. I don’t like walking. It’s boring and it takes forever.”
He talked on, but Darquesse wasn’t listening. There was someone up ahead. Someone with bubbling, boiling power. Male. Big. Strong. Darian Vector, maybe. Darquesse allowed herself a smile. Looked like she wouldn’t be missing out on the fun, after all.
They got to the weird elevator thing. “Up you go,” said Darquesse.
Fletcher looked confused. “Weren’t you supposed to take me to a doctor?”
“No. I was to take you as far as here, and go on by myself. Up you go now. We’re going to need you to teleport us home when all this is over.”
“I think Skulduggery meant you to stay with me.”
Darquesse took Fletcher’s arm, led him into the elevator, and stepped out. “There,” she said. “Get well soon.”
The doors closed before he could respond.
Darquesse continued down the corridor. It was dark here. Quiet. Empty. Perfect.
A slight sound behind her, and she turned.
Darian Vector loomed over her. Handsome. Unshaven. A gleam in his eyes that was bordering on insane.
“Look who we have here,” he said. “You’re either the reflection or the real thing. Doesn’t much matter which. Only thing that matters is that you’re not her.”
“Darquesse,” said Darquesse.
“What’s it like,” said Vector, “to go from being that powerful to being … you? What’s it like to go from killing everyone in sight to quivering in fear?”
“I’ll let you know when I start to quiver.”
“Still talking tough, eh? Let’s see how tough you talk when I pull your arms and legs off. You killed some friends of mine.”
“Do I look scared? Do I look the slightest bit intimidated? Even someone like you, Vector, even someone as obviously stupid and intellectually stunted as you has to be wondering why that is. Am I bluffing? Am I expecting back-up to arrive in the nick of time? Am I as stupid as you are?”
“Stop calling me stupid.”
“Or,” Darquesse continued, “am I really as confident as I appear? If so … why? Why am I this confident? What secret am I holding? What do I know that you don’t? Or, to be more precise, what else?”
Vector’s lip curled. “Did you just call me stupid again?”
“You’re missing the point. You’re letting your pride get in the way of your thoughts. I’m standing here insulting you, openly mocking you, and yet I’m not threatened by the horrible death you’re promising. So I ask you again – why do you think that is?”
Vector’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to make me believe you’re still her.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re not.”
“Can you be sure?”
“The Skeleton Detective wouldn’t hang around with you if you were still her.”
“You don’t think I can fool Skulduggery? Really? Especially when he secretly wants to be fooled?”
She saw it all. She saw his shoulders slump a little. Saw his fists open slightly. Saw him swallow, and his eyes widen. She saw the blood drain from his face.
He stepped back. “Please …”
“You were saying something about pulling my arms and legs off?”
“Please don’t kill me.”
“You were saying something about making me quiver in fear?”
“I surrender. Please, I surrender.”
“And you seemed insulted when I implied you were stupid. Almost like you were going to argue. Tell me, Vector … are you going to argue?”
“N-no.”
“So you are stupid?”
“Yes. Are you going to kill me?”
Darquesse hesitated. “I should. I mean … I want to. I think. You’re annoying, so …” She raised her hand, and Vector flinched. But she hesitated again. “Something’s wrong,” she said.
Vector saw what he thought was his chance, and his fist came round and shattered against Darquesse’s jaw. He howled, and reeled away.
“Y’know what it is?” Darquesse asked. “It’s humanity. That’s what it is. Humanity is contagious. I’m around people who do good for five minutes and already I’m thinking of doing something good, too. Isn’t that ridiculous? It’s like there’s something inside me that wants to be part of a group, or it wants them to like me or … or something like that. Bizarrely ridiculous. And pointless. No matter how much I might want to seem like one of them at this particular moment, it’s only a matter of time before I go back to being me.”
“You should try being good for a little longer,” Vector said, clutching his broken hand.
“Ah, you’re just saying that because you think I’m going to kill you in a minute.”
“Are … are you?”
Darquesse shrugged. She hated spoilers. “I shouldn’t be spending this much time with them,” she said. “I should go back to Tanith and Sanguine and the Remnants. None of them have a conscience, and none of them want to do nice things for anybody. Skulduggery and the others are infecting me with, like …”
“Decency?” said Vector.
She snapped her fingers. “Yes. That. Exactly. You’re not so stupid, after all, are you?”
“Please.”
“Stop begging. Unless I have a personal interest in seeing you beg, it’s boring.”
“I – I can help you.”
“How could you possibly help me?”
“There’s a … thing. A creature. Found in the Caves of the Void.”
It took Darquesse a moment to access that memory. The Caves of the Void were what people called the caves beneath Gordon’s house.
“It’s resistant to magic,” Vector continued. “A group of scientists managed to capture it when it was young, and they transported it over here to study. They call it a Gnarl. It’s waiting for your friends.”
/> “It’s free?”
“I think so. I mean, that was the plan. I only caught a bit of it, and I wasn’t supposed to even hear that. But I picked up a lot of other things. I eavesdropped on the deal Kerias tried to make with you. She was going to betray us. She promised us refuge and then she offered to hand us over. You can’t trust that woman. You didn’t go for her deal so she’s sent you down here, where the Gnarl is waiting. She’s going to say it was an unfortunate accident, but really it’s to teach China Sorrows a lesson.”
“Zafira thinks one creature will be enough to kill everyone I came in with?”
Vector swallowed. “From what I heard? Yes.”
Darquesse grunted. “Must be an impressive creature.” She chewed her lip. “Wonder what it’s like.”
27
THE GNARL
he took the stairs down. The concrete walls became rock. The electric lighting gave way to the occasional lamp hanging overhead. She reached the bottom of the steps and walked till she came to a cavern. A viewing window had been cut out of the rock wall. Behind it, a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough to squeeze through. There was an intermittent breeze, but it wasn’t coming from the tunnel. And it was hot. It was hot like breath.
Darquesse ventured forward. She could hear the creature breathing, but she still couldn’t see it, even when she shifted through the visual spectrum only available to her. Every living thing had its own energy signature. She could see sorcerers through walls by focusing on their magic, but she couldn’t see this Gnarl thing. That was … unsettling.
Something shifted in the dark and her eyes returned to normal in time to glimpse a huge head brushing the top of the archway. She moved back quickly, getting behind cover. She peered out again. The creature, a quadruped ten times her height, stepped into the cavernous room. It had legs like stone pillars, scaled armour around its body and head, and two sharply curving tusks. There was no trace of magic coming from it at all. What a curious beast.
Darquesse walked out into the middle of the floor. It tracked her movements, growling deep within its throat. It had no obvious weak points, but she had yet to encounter an opponent who could withstand her power, so she let her magic pour from her eyes in twin streams. The blast hit the Gnarl on the shoulder, should have melted right through it. Instead, the wound sizzled a little, like a blister.