by Derek Landy
“It’s good to have it back,” Stephanie said when Skulduggery got in. “They worked miracles on it, they really did. Two days, and it looks brand-new.”
Skulduggery nodded. “Cost me a fortune.”
“It’s worth it.”
“Glad you think so. Also glad that I don’t have to eat anytime soon. Or at all.”
She smiled and looked at him. He was looking out the windshield. Neither of them spoke for a few seconds.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re thinking about something.”
“I’m always thinking about something. Thinking is what I do. I’m very good at it.”
“But you’ve just figured something out.”
“And how did you know that?”
“You hold your head differently when you’ve just figured something out. So what is it?”
“It just occurred to me,” he said. “In the cave, the Scepter’s crystal warned Serpine that I was close—but it didn’t warn him that you were right there beside him.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it didn’t see me as a threat. It’s not like I could have hurt him or anything.”
“That’s hardly the point,” Skulduggery said. “We may have found a weakness in the ultimate weapon.”
Stephanie frowned. “What?”
“Remember what Oisin, the nice man in the Echo Stone, said?” Skulduggery asked. “The black crystal sang to the gods whenever an enemy neared, but it was silent when the Ancients took it.”
“So, what, it thinks I’m an Ancient?”
“Technically, according to your father at least, you might well be.”
“Does that mean you’re starting to believe that they were more than just legends and myths?”
“I’m … keeping an open mind about it. The thing I still don’t understand, however, is why Gordon didn’t tell me about your family history. We were friends for years, we had conversations about the Ancients and the Faceless Ones that went on for days, so why didn’t he tell me?”
“Does it mean anything else? Being descended from the Ancients, I mean. What does it, what …”
“What does it signify?”
“Yes.”
“It means you’re special. It means you’re meant to do this, you’re meant to be involved in this world, in this life.”
“I am?”
“You are.”
“Then maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you. He wanted to write about it from the outside, not be stuck in the middle of it all.”
He cocked his head. “You’re wise beyond your years, Valkyrie.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes I am.”
Twenty-four
PLANNING FOR MURDER
MR. BLISS STOOD IN the palm of the Grasping Rock and watched Serpine approach. The Grasping Rock was shaped like a massive upturned hand, jutting from the peak of the mountain, fingers curled, as if reaching for the sun in the blood-red sky.
Serpine climbed into the palm with ease, and Bliss bowed slightly. Serpine, for his part, merely smiled.
“Do you have it?” Bliss asked.
“Luckily for you, yes.”
“Luckily for me?”
“My dear Mr. Bliss, if I had gone down to those caves and emerged without the Scepter, where would that have left you? You would be standing in one of those cages in the Sanctuary’s jail, powerless, awaiting judgment. Instead you are here, standing with me, on the verge of a new world. Be thankful.”
“You seem to forget that if you had emerged with nothing, you’d be in the cage next to me—”
Serpine looked at him. A short time ago they would have been equals. But not now.
“—my master,” Bliss finished respectfully, inclining his head.
Serpine smiled again and turned his back to him, looking out through the curled fingers of the rock and down at the valley below them.
“Is it as powerful as the scholars have imagined?” Bliss asked.
“What the scholars have imagined pales in comparison to the reality. No one can stop us now.”
“The Elders,” Bliss said.
Serpine turned his head. “I have a plan to deal with the Elders. They are nothing if not predictable, and they will die because of it. Meritorious himself will crumble to dust. Nothing can stand in our way.”
“The Elders may be predictable,” Bliss responded, “but that is not a trait Skulduggery Pleasant shares with them. He’s cunning, powerful, and very, very dangerous.”
“Do not concern yourself with the detective. I also have a plan to deal with him.”
“Oh?”
“Skulduggery Pleasant has always had one weakness—he forms attachments to people who are very easily killed. In the past it was his wife and child. Now it is this girl who is with him, this Valkyrie Cain. He is a threat to us only if he is thinking clearly. You know as well as I do that once he becomes angry, his judgment is clouded.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I have already done it, Bliss. I have sent someone to … cloud his judgment. In less than an hour, Valkyrie Cain will be dead, and Skulduggery Pleasant will trouble us no longer.”
Twenty-five
THE WHITE CLEAVER
BY THE TIME THEY got to Denholm Street, day had been beaten back and the night was soaking through the city. It was a long street, dirty and quiet. The Bentley pulled up outside the warehouse. Ghastly and Tanith were waiting for them when they got out.
“Anyone inside?” Skulduggery asked, checking that his gun was loaded.
“Not as far as we can tell,” Ghastly said, “but they could be masking their presence. If Serpine is in there, or Bliss, we’re going to need backup.”
“They aren’t here,” Skulduggery said.
“How do you know?” Stephanie asked.
“Serpine used this place for something, something big and strange enough to raise a few eyebrows. He’d know eyebrows were being raised, he’d know I’d hear about it, so he’s already moved on.”
“Then why are we here?”
“You can only anticipate what someone is going to do if you know exactly what that someone has just done.”
They approached the single door, and Tanith put her ear against it and listened. After a moment, she put her hand over the lock, but instead of the lock breaking, this time Stephanie heard it click.
“How come you can’t do that?” Stephanie whispered to Skulduggery. “It’s faster than picking a lock, and quieter than blasting the door down.”
He shook his head sadly. “A living skeleton isn’t enough for you, is it? What does it take to impress young people these days?”
Stephanie grinned. Tanith pushed the door open, and they went inside.
The door led straight into the warehouse office, a dark, poky room with a desk and an empty cork-board. The place obviously hadn’t been used by any reputable company for quite some time. The office had a door that opened out to the warehouse proper, and beside it a grime-covered window that Stephanie peered through.
“Seems quiet enough,” she said.
Skulduggery hit a few switches on the wall, and lights flickered on. They walked out onto the warehouse floor. There were pigeons in the rafters high above them, cooing and hooting and fluttering from one perch to the next, startled by the sudden light. They walked to the middle of the warehouse, where an array of what appeared to be medical machinery was collected around an operating table. Stephanie looked at Skulduggery.
“Any ideas?” she asked.
He hesitated. “Let’s get the obvious out of the way. A lot of these machines would suggest that some kind of transfusion took place here.”
Tanith held up a tube, examining the residue within. “I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think this is the result of medical research.”
“Magic, then,” Ghastly said.
“You can inject magic?” Stephanie asked, frowning.
“You can inject fluids with magical propert
ies,” Skulduggery told her as he took the tube from Tanith. “Before we had wonderful machines like this, it was a far messier process, but the result was the same.”
“And what was the result?”
“The patient came out of the operation a changed man. Or woman. Or … thing. The question here is, What was the object of the game? What changes was Serpine seeking?”
“And who was the patient?”
“Patients, actually.”
“Sorry?”
“There are two sets of needles, two IV bags, two of everything—enough to take care of two separate operations. We’ll take a sample back to the Sanctuary, break it down, and try to find out what it does. But for right now, everyone take a look around.”
“What are we looking for?” Stephanie asked.
“Clues.”
Stephanie glanced at Tanith, saw her raise an eyebrow skeptically, and managed to restrain her grin.
Skulduggery and Ghastly walked slowly, passing their gaze over every surface, examining every inch of the machines, the table, and the surrounding area. Stephanie and Tanith found themselves side by side, looking straight down at the floor.
“What does a clue look like?” Tanith whispered.
Stephanie fought the giggle down and whispered back, “I’m not sure. I’m looking for a footprint or something.”
“Have you found one yet?”
“No. But that’s probably because I haven’t moved from this spot.”
“Maybe we should move, pretend we know what we’re doing.”
“That’s a good idea.”
They started to walk very slowly, still looking straight down.
“How’s the magic coming along?” Tanith asked, keeping her voice low.
“I moved a shell.”
“Hey, congratulations!”
Stephanie shrugged modestly. “It was only a shell.”
“Makes no difference. Well done.”
“Thanks. What age were you when you first did magic?”
“I was born into it,” Tanith answered. “Folks were sorcerers; my brother was always doing something. I grew up doing magic.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“Oh yeah, a big brother and all. You have any brothers?”
“I’m an only child.”
Tanith shrugged. “I always wanted a little sister. My brother’s great, I love him to death, but I always wanted a little sister to talk to, to share my secrets with, you know?”
“I wouldn’t mind a sister either.”
“Any chance of that happening?”
“I can’t see what would be in it for my parents. I mean, they have the perfect daughter already—what more could they want?”
Tanith laughed, then tried to cover it up with a cough.
“Found something?” Skulduggery asked from behind them.
Tanith turned, looking serious. “No, sorry. I thought I had, but no, it turned out to be, uh … more floor.”
Stephanie hugged herself, trying to stop her shoulders from shaking with laughter.
“Okay,” Skulduggery said. “Well, keep looking.”
Tanith nodded, turned back, and nudged Stephanie to get her to shut up. Stephanie clamped a hand over her mouth and had to look away when she saw Tanith’s face straining to hold her own composure.
“Cow,” Tanith muttered, and that was it—the floodgates opened, and Stephanie doubled over with laughter that echoed throughout the warehouse. Tanith pointed at Stephanie and backed away. “Skulduggery, she’s not being professional!”
Stephanie’s laugh proved infectious, and Tanith was soon on her knees. Skulduggery and Ghastly just looked at them.
“What’s going on?” Ghastly asked.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Skulduggery answered.
They looked at Stephanie and Tanith and shook their heads. “Women,” they said together.
Stephanie wiped the tears from her eyes and looked around at Skulduggery, and then something fell from the ceiling and landed behind the detective without a sound.
Her laughter vanished as she stood. “Behind you!” she yelled.
Skulduggery wheeled, gun in hand, and everyone froze. They looked at the man. His uniform, though identical in design to that of the Cleavers, was of startling white.
“Stand down,” Ghastly said to it as Stephanie and Tanith ran up to join them. “We are working with the Council of Elders. Stand down.”
The White Cleaver didn’t move.
“What do you want?” Skulduggery asked.
A moment dragged itself by, and then the White Cleaver raised his arm and pointed straight at Stephanie.
“That’s all we need to know,” Skulduggery said, and fired, four shots to the chest and two to the head. The White Cleaver jerked with each impact, but it was clear that the bullets didn’t penetrate his coat, and the two to the head ricocheted off the helmet, leaving dark scratches against the white.
“Damn,” Skulduggery muttered.
Stephanie stayed back as Skulduggery, Tanith, and Ghastly closed in on their new adversary. The helmet denied them any chance of knowing where he was looking, but Stephanie knew he was looking right into her eyes.
Tanith attacked first, feinting with a low kick, then snapping it up high. The Cleaver didn’t fall for the ruse and slapped the high kick away as Ghastly attacked from behind. The Cleaver spun with a kick of his own that caught Tanith in the gut, and he ducked under the punch that Ghastly sent his way. Ghastly jabbed, his fists blurring, but the Cleaver absorbed the blows and his hand shot out, catching Ghastly in the side of the neck. Ghastly staggered, and Skulduggery thrust out his palm and the air rippled.
But instead of being pushed backward, the Cleaver moved through the ripples without being affected. The uniform, Stephanie thought. Unfazed, Skulduggery threw a punch that the Cleaver caught.
Skulduggery was flipped over, but when he landed, he had reversed the grip. His foot sneaked out, striking the Cleaver’s knee, and now Skulduggery was the one doing the twisting, and the Cleaver was the one who flipped.
While he was in midflip, however, the Cleaver got his free hand to the ground to cartwheel back to his feet. A pause followed, and Stephanie’s three friends reappraised their opponent.
Tanith took her sword from beneath her coat and slid it from its scabbard. Ghastly let his jacket slip off, and Skulduggery put away his pistol, freeing his hands.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said to the Cleaver. “Tell us where Serpine is, tell us what his plans are. We can help you. You are not going to lay one finger on Valkyrie Cain, but we will help you.”
The Cleaver’s answer was to reach behind him and draw his scythe.
Skulduggery grunted in dissatisfaction.
The Cleaver darted toward them before anyone could react, using the scythe like a pole vault to swing himself up, kicking both Skulduggery and Ghastly in the chest at the same time.
They went stumbling back and Tanith came in, sword flashing. The Cleaver dodged back, whirling his scythe to parry the blade.
Sparks flew as the metals clashed, sword against scythe, and such was the ferocity of Tanith’s assault that the Cleaver didn’t notice Ghastly until it was too late.
Ghastly’s strong arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, making him drop the scythe.
Tanith moved in for the kill, and the Cleaver’s leg blurred in a crescent, his boot heel slamming into her wrist as she neared. She hissed in pain and dropped the sword, clutching her wrist.
The Cleaver rammed his heel into Ghastly’s shin and whacked the back of his helmet against his nose, then kicked both legs into the air and over his head, slipping out from under Ghastly’s arms. His hands went to the ground and he continued the movement, sending both boots into Ghastly’s face.
Ghastly fell back, and the Cleaver held the handstand for a moment, then dropped back to his feet as Skulduggery came at him.
Skulduggery summoned fire and hurled two han
dfuls into the Cleaver. The flames didn’t catch, but they did throw him back, and Skulduggery threw a lightning-fast jab that he followed with a right hook. He didn’t seem to mind that he was hitting a helmet, and Stephanie noted with satisfaction the way their opponent was sent stumbling.
The Cleaver recovered quickly, however, and they started trading punches and kicks, elbows and knees. She watched them block and lock and counterlock, all the while moving around each other in an elaborate and brutal dance.
“Stephanie!” Skulduggery called out as he fought. “Get out of here!”
“I’m not leaving you!”
“You have to! I don’t know how to stop him!”
Tanith snatched her sword off the ground and grabbed Stephanie’s arm. “We have to go,” she said firmly, and Stephanie nodded.
They ran back the way they had come. As they were passing into the office, Stephanie glanced back and saw the Cleaver spin with a kick that sent Skulduggery to the floor. In one fluid movement, the Cleaver got a toe under the staff of the scythe, flicked it up, and caught it, and then he was running after her.
Stephanie burst into the dark alleyway. Tanith pressed her hand against the door as she closed it—Stephanie heard her mutter, “Withstand”—and a polished sheen spread across its surface.
“That’ll hold him for a minute,” she said.
They ran for the Bentley. The Cleaver pounded on the door behind them, but it wouldn’t open, and it wouldn’t break. The pounding stopped.
They reached the Bentley, and Tanith looked at Stephanie. “Do you have the key?”
A window exploded, high up near the warehouse’s roof, and the White Cleaver dropped and landed in a crouch in the middle of the alley, shards of glass raining down with him. He straightened up, unfolded his arms, and raised his head.
Tanith stood between the Cleaver and Stephanie, holding the sword in her left hand. She cradled her injured right arm by her side. The Cleaver twirled his scythe slowly.
Skulduggery and Ghastly leaped through the broken window. The Cleaver turned, and Ghastly crashed into him.
“Start the car!” Ghastly yelled.
Skulduggery pressed the keyring and the locks sprang open with a beep, and they jumped in. The engine roared to life.