by Derek Landy
Jack climbed to the top and sat on the edge, feet dangling.
What was the point, though? What was the point of living for all that time if you’d nothing to show for it? What was the point of living for all those years if you’d no one to share them with? Jack had never been one for self-delusion. He was aware of the facts of the matter, and the facts of the matter were that he was a hideous, hideous monster whom no one could ever love, and he was going to go through the rest of his physical existence alone. Simple as that. As simple and inescapable as that.
When he was a younger creature, he hadn’t worried about such things. He was a thing-about-town, cock of the walk, the Terror of London. He’d seen it all, done most of it, and what he hadn’t done he’d seen, so at least he knew what he was talking about. Back then, he hadn’t thought he’d ever reach the stage where he’d be perched on the side of a building feeling sorry for himself. But that’s youth. Youth’s stupid.
Jack wasn’t one for self-delusion, and neither was he one for denial. There was another fact of another matter, and it had been skirting the edges of his thoughts for a few days now. He hadn’t wanted to put it into words because he had wanted, foolishly, to retain some sort of personal dignity. But now he didn’t have a choice.
Like a schoolboy with his first crush, Jack reckoned that the little thief and confidence trickster Sabine was the best thing to ever happen in this wicked world, of which he had grown so tired and bored. Sabine was his spark. She was his light, his warmth. Her face made him smile, her smile made him giddy. When he was around her, all he wanted to do was look at her. When he wasn’t around her, all he wanted to do was talk about her. It was embarrassing. Humiliating, even. He’d have been angry with her if he didn’t fancy her so bloody much.
That morning, he’d found himself daydreaming. He had imagined an entire conversation where she had laughed at his jokes and hadn’t flinched at his touch. Ridiculous, childish daydreams, that nevertheless made him feel so nice, and so warm, and so hopeful. Sick, the whole affair was. Sick and wrong. He was a monster, and monsters didn’t have crushes on pretty girls. Thirty years old, he reckoned she was. Thirty years old, pretty as a picture. She had a pretty laugh, too. It lilted, like birdsong. It sounded especially pretty when she was laughing at something funny he had said in his daydream.
Jack stood, scowling at the city. Listen to him. Listen to the thoughts in his head. Was this any way for a grown monster to behave, especially one who had a job to do? That’s what he should be focusing on, not some random little skirt he’d taken a passing fancy to.
He slipped through the window that had been left open for him. Standing next to the door, hearing the voices on the other side, he did his best to smooth down his hair. Adopting a heavy-lidded nonchalance, Jack opened the door and sauntered in.
“Jackie Earl is the man who has the bow,” Tanith was saying to the others from her place at the head of the table. She glanced at him, but didn’t stop talking. “He’s been running organised crime in the city for almost fifteen years now, ever since he usurped the previous crime boss and his gang. Some of them were killed the old-fashioned way − bullet to the head, knife to the gut, garrotte to the throat... but some were found with arrows sticking out of them. Mr Earl may not be a sorcerer, but he knows power when he holds it in his hands.”
“So what makes the bow a God-Killer?” asked Sabine. What a question. What a wonderfully incisive question that had been, and no mistake. And then she added, “Does every arrow kill?” just to prove how sharp her mind was.
“That,” Tanith said, nodding, “and the fact that the arrow never misses.”
“Rarely misses,” Sanguine corrected.
Tanith sighed. “Fine. Rarely misses. It won’t turn a corner, but it’ll swerve a little in order to hit what you’re aiming at. That makes the bow the most dangerous of these weapons – you don’t even have to get up close.”
Jack had to say something. Sabine was the first one to ask a question so he had to say something now. If Dusk got in there before him, or Annis, he’d lose that connection. So he took his eyes off Sabine long enough to look at Tanith, and he said, “This Earl bloke, he’s obviously not shy about usin’ the bow should he need to. Makes him dangerous.”
“What’s a little danger to people like us?” Tanith responded, smiling. “Besides, we can deal with it. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That’s the Chicago way.”
Jack and the others stared at her blankly.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “I can’t be the only one.”
Sanguine patted her shoulder. “It’s OK, honeybee. I get the reference.”
“We’re the only two? Seriously? OK, after all this is over, we’re having a movie night, and you all have to come.”
Dusk’s lip pulled back slightly. “I don’t do movie nights.”
“Fine,” Tanith said, “whatever. The rest of you. Bring your popcorn.”
“We should probably get back to the job,” Sanguine said.
“Right,” said Tanith, “yeah.” She put the forged bow on the table. “Sabine, can you work your mojo?”
Sabine took the weapon and closed her eyes, and her hands started to glow as she infused the thing with magic. Jack could have watched that all night.
“Jackie Earl is hidden away in his own private compound,” said Tanith, “guarded by security cameras, alarm systems and armed sentries.”
And another chance arose for Jack to impress Sabine. “Mortal sentries?” he asked.
“Mostly,” Tanith said. “He has a sorcerer on his staff, named Kaiven. A Necromancer.”
Jack made a face at Sabine. “Never liked them,” he said, but Sabine’s eyes were still closed so she totally missed it.
Tanith shrugged. “Ever since the Death Bringer failed to usher in the Passage, Necromancers around the world have either retreated into the safety of their Temples or left the Order and struck out on their own. From what I’ve heard, Kaiven offered his services to Earl and Earl gladly took him up on it.”
“So he has a Necromancer working for him,” Sabine said, opening her eyes and cutting straight through to the heart of the matter as usual. She handed the bow back to Tanith, who nodded approvingly. “Anyone else we should know about?”
“Nope,” said Tanith. “Not a one. Nothing.”
“Honey...” said Sanguine.
“Oh, yes, thank you, nearly forgot. We’ve heard he may have a vampire, too.”
Jack noticed Sabine going pale. Annis just kept chewing her hair. Only Dusk spoke.
“I cannot be a part of this.”
“Let’s not make any rash decisions,” Tanith said.
“Vampires are forbidden from killing other vampires. It is our most sacred code.”
“You don’t have to kill him,” Sanguine said. “You can just injure him a little. Cut off his arms and legs or something.”
Dusk stood. “You can retrieve the bow without my involvement. Contact me when you’re done.” He walked out.
Jack couldn’t resist. “So Dusk is missin’ out on this job because of his principles,” he said, “and he missed out on the last one because he’s rationin’ out his serum to keep his bitey side down durin’ the night... So what good is our little vampire to us at all, may I ask?”
“He provides moral support,” Tanith muttered, then she sat up straighter. “But that’s fine. We can’t let anything delay us. We have a little under sixty-five hours before the dagger loses its charge and Johann Starke realises he’s been robbed, so we are sticking to our timetable no matter what. I’m going after the bow. Billy-Ray is going to take care of Kaiven.”
“What about Sabine?” Jack asked. “I think she’s proven herself to be a valuable member of this team and I think she should be treated as such.”
Tanith frowned at him. “Uh, yeah, OK. Anyway, Sabine, you and Jack are going to run interference.”
“Us?” said Sabine.
Jack’s heart
leaped. “We could do that,” he said, struggling to keep the excitement from his voice.
Tanith looked to Annis then. “And Annis... Annis is going to take down the vampire. Think you can handle that, Annis?”
Annis pulled a long grey hair from her mouth. “I’ve never eaten a vampire before,” she said.
Tanith grinned. “That’s the spirit. We move out now.”
“I’ll make my own way there,” announced Jack, and walked quickly from the room.
He slipped out of the window and leaped from building to building, trying to get rid of the smile on his face. Partnered with Sabine. It was almost too good to be true. It would have been foolish to read too much into it, but since he had a few miles to cover it was a good enough way to spend the time as any. So what did it mean? Did it mean that Tanith could see the partnership potential already? Could everyone see that? Did they look at Jack and look at Sabine and think to themselves, Yep, those two are meant for each other? It was like the Skeleton Detective and the Cain girl. People looked at them and said, Now that’s a team. Would they say the same about Sabine and Jack? The thought sent shivers of excitement through him as he ran and jumped and dived. They’d be just like Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain, then, but with added kissing.
Jack laughed.
He was having so much fun up there, alone with his thoughts, that the time kind of got away from him. Chuckling at his own giddiness, he got himself back on track, and the wind picked up as he got nearer to Chicago’s harbour. Jackie Earl’s compound was bordered by a tall fence. The main warehouse was accessed through an open courtyard with buildings on either side. Watchtowers stood in the south-east and north-west corners. By the time Jack landed on the roof, the sentries in those watchtowers had already met Tanith Low’s blade.
“You’re late,” Sabine whispered.
Jack scanned the area, keeping his face away from her so she wouldn’t see the goofy smile. She’d been worried about him.
“Tanith and Sanguine are over there,” Sabine said. “Annis is that way.” Jack nodded, but didn’t move. This was a special moment for both of them.
Sabine checked her watch as they crouched there on the roof in the dark. Then she checked it again. Jack knew how she felt. The minutes were skipping by much too quickly.
Sabine nibbled her lip. Jack would have given anything to nibble that lip.
“Sorry?” Sabine said, looking at him.
Jack paled. “What?”
“You said something.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Something about a lip.”
He shook his head. “It’s the wind. It carries words and changes them. I didn’t say lip, I said this is the tip. Of the iceberg. Regardin’ what we came here to do. You nervous?”
“I’m fine.”
She walked away a little, trying to see if Tanith and Sanguine had moved from their position. Jack followed, and smiled at her.
“I hate this waitin’ around stuff,” he said. “Much rather get in there, where the action is.”
Sabine didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at him. Jack frowned. Did that mean she hadn’t heard him? She probably hadn’t. Not in this wind. Plus she was so preoccupied with her nerves and such that his words had probably failed to even register.
He smiled again, wider this time. “I hate this waitin’ around stuff. Much rather get in there, where the action is.”
Sabine frowned, and looked at him, and Jack realised she had heard him. “Um,” she said, “right.”
That familiar stench wafted towards them, of fish and dead otter.
“I hate waiting, too,” said Black Annis, not looking at either of them. “I prefer being in the thick of the action.”
“Didn’t you use to live in a ditch?” asked Jack.
Annis mumbled something and wandered away, and Jack turned back to Sabine. “You shouldn’t be nervous.”
“I’m not. I’m just... I don’t know why I’m doing this. Why am I helping Tanith help Darquesse? They both want to end the world. I don’t want to end the world. I may have broken a few laws now and then, but I’m not... evil.”
“I don’t think you’re evil,” said Jack.
“Because I’m not evil,” Sabine said, a little angrily. She looked upset. Jack wondered if he should hug her. “But Tanith is. You kind of forget that sometimes, but she is. She’s evil.”
Jack shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Sometimes things happen that are good.”
“That’s your philosophy?”
“I... I dunno, actually. Never knew I had a philosophy. But I suppose if I did have one, yeah, that’d be it. Sometimes things happen that are good. You can have it, if you want.”
“Your philosophy?”
“If yours isn’t workin’, you could share mine. It might relax you. You look tense. Do you want a massage?”
“I’m sorry?”
“To help you relax. I could give you a massage.”
“Your nails are really long.”
“Yeah, you might lose some blood, but some people say blood loss helps you relax.”
“I don’t think so. Thank you, though.”
Jack smiled. “No problem. Do you want a foot rub?”
“No. I think I’m going to stand over there.”
Jack gave her the thumbs up. “Sounds good.”
She walked over to the other side of the roof, and he followed, and smiled at her. “Nice over here, ain’t it?”
rom her position on the roof, Tanith watched Kaiven issue orders to the mortal men with the guns. While keeping to the Necromancer tradition of only wearing black, everything else about Kaiven seemed golden – his blond hair, his tanned skin, his bright smile. Even the way he moved reminded her of a golden lion – proud, strong and graceful.
“Can I kill him now?” Sanguine asked from where he crouched beside her.
Tanith smiled. “What’s wrong, Billy-Ray? Jealous? You think I might trade you in for a Necromancer?”
“And what would I have to be jealous about? The guy’s an idiot. Look at him, preening like a damn peacock.”
“All big smiles and white teeth and chiselled features...”
Sanguine looked offended. “I have chiselled features. Look. Look how chiselled they are. And my teeth are at least as white as his. You seriously think he’s good-lookin’?”
“I do,” said Tanith.
“Right,” Sanguine said, and nodded. “I’m gonna kill him.”
She kept her laugh soft so it wouldn’t travel. “I think he’s good-looking, but I think you’re better looking.”
“Oh,” Sanguine said. “I mean, yeah. I am. I’m glad you noticed.”
“But he does have better hair.”
“What?”
“See how it falls across his forehead like that? It’s long, but not too long... kind of dashing, really.”
“A man’s hair shouldn’t be that long,” Sanguine said. “Too easy to pull in a life-or-death struggle. He ain’t being practical, that’s what it is. He’s too concerned with lookin’ good, not near enough concerned with doing his damn job. That’s why he’s got a haircut like that. And what’s he doing smiling, anyhow? The guys down there are a bunch of goons with guns, why do they need his smiles? He’s eager to please, that’s his problem. He wants everyone to like him. That’s a sign of a weak mind.”
“And you got all that from a haircut and a smile?” Tanith asked. “Your skills are impressive, Billy-Ray.”
“More skills than him, I’ll tell you that much. Main problem with Necromancers is that all their power is kept in a single object. You take that object away from them, they can’t do nothing. With Valkyrie, it’s a ring. Solomon Wreath, a cane. I don’t know what this guy’s special object is, but—”
“A wand,” said Tanith.
Sanguine turned his head to her. “I’m sorry?”
“He keeps his magic in a wand,” she said.
Sanguine took a moment, finding it ha
rd to process the information. “He... this guy uses a wand? For real? He actually uses a wand? Like a wizard?”
“Yes.”
“A sorcerer, a proper, real-life mage... one of us... waves a magic wand?”
She grinned. “You find something unusual about that?”
“I... I don’t know where to start... How have they let him do that? Don’t the other Necromancers have any sense of pride? What’s he gonna do next, fly around on a broomstick? This ain’t Harry Potter. We ain’t witches and wizards. We are serious people with serious jobs and this guy—”
“Calm down, Billy-Ray,” Tanith said, struggling to keep the amusement out of her voice.
“It’s a stereotype,” he hissed. “It’s a damn stereotype and it’s harmful. If this catches on, we’ll have all sorts of sorcerers running around, waving wands and chanting spells. Do you know how ridiculous we’d look?”
Tanith shrugged. “I liked Harry Potter.”
“This ain’t about Harry Potter!”
“You liked Harry Potter as well.”
“They’re good books,” he snapped, “but I do not agree with this wand business. All those guys down there, criminals and mobsters and gangsters, and who are they taking orders from? A wizard with a wand. How can they take him seriously? How are they going to take us seriously when we attack?”
“Hopefully they won’t,” said Tanith. “If they’re waiting for us to wave our wands, maybe they won’t shoot, and then we can kill them more easily.”
Sanguine shook his head. “No. It ain’t right. That guy should be ashamed of himself. I have to kill him. You know that, right? It’s a point of honour. Now it... it’s just a point of honour.”
“If the opportunity presents itself,” said Tanith, “you go right ahead and kill him.”
“I will.”
“Just be careful of his magic wand.”
Sanguine muttered something she couldn’t hear, and Tanith grinned again.