Scepter of the Ancients (17 page)

Nothing happened.

She made a fist, then tried again.

The phone stayed where it was. Just as it had done the previous fifty times she’d tried.

“How’s it going?”

She looked up as Tanith Low approached.

“You’re starting off too big,” Tanith said. “A phone’s too heavy. A paper clip would be enough.”

“I don’t have a paper clip,” Stephanie said.

Tanith took the book from her, opened it, and balanced it on the arm of the chair. “Use that,” she said.

Stephanie frowned. “But that’s even heavier than the phone.”

“Not the book. Just the page.”

“Oh,” Stephanie said. She concentrated again, flexed her fingers, and splayed her hand. The page didn’t turn. It didn’t even lift.

“It takes time,” Tanith said. “And patience.”

“I don’t have time,” Stephanie said bitterly. “And I’ve never had patience.”

Tanith shrugged. “There’s always the possibility that you just can’t do magic. It’s one thing to know it exists—it’s quite another to be able to do it yourself.”

“I suppose,” Stephanie said.

“That’s some bruise you’ve got there.”

Stephanie glanced at her arm, to where the sleeve had risen. “I had a bit of trouble,” she said.

“So I see. Did you give as good as you got?”

“Not really,” Stephanie admitted. “But most of the bruising was done by a tree anyway, so …”

“I’ve fought just about every type of opponent
you could name,” Tanith said, “but I’ve never been attacked by a tree. Well done.”

“Thank you.”

Tanith dug into her pocket, coming out with a piece of yellow porous rock. “Run a bath, let this dissolve. A few minutes in there, the bruises will be gone.”

Stephanie took the rock. “Thank you,” she said, and Tanith shrugged.

“I don’t want to scare you, but this mightn’t be the best time for someone to start learning magic. Bad things are happening.”

Stephanie didn’t say anything. She didn’t know anything about Tanith, and she didn’t know how many sides there were in the coming conflict. She wasn’t about to start trusting perfect strangers.

“Thanks for the rock,” she said.

“Not a problem,” Tanith responded. “We warriors have to look out for one another.”

Stephanie saw movement through the stacks—the man in the bow tie was back. Which meant China had returned.

“I have to go,” she said at once, getting up off the chair.

*   *   *

She found China in the apartment, her back to Stephanie as she approached.

“Have you told the Elders?” Stephanie asked.

“Word has been sent,” China said without turning.

“You sent
word
? That’s it?”

“Do not presume to question me, child.”

Stephanie glared at her. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me ‘child.’”

China turned. “And I really wish you would pick a name, so I wouldn’t have to.”

“Why aren’t we going to the rescue?”

“Going to the rescue?” she said with a laugh. “On our horses, is that right? With bugles sounding and flags flying? You think that’s how it works?”

“Skulduggery has come to my rescue.”

“Well, they don’t make them like him anymore, do they?”

“Sending word isn’t good enough. Meritorious has to be told. Tell him that we need Skulduggery to get the Scepter, tell him that without Skulduggery Serpine will destroy everything, tell him whatever you want, but we
have
to make the Elders act!”

“And then what? They call the Cleavers to
action, they call their allies together, and then we all go merrily along to war? Child, you know nothing about war. You think it’s big and it’s loud and it’s good versus evil. It’s not. War is a delicate thing; it requires precision. It requires timing.”

“We don’t have time.”

“Not so. Time is in short supply, but we still have it.”

“So you’re
delaying
? Why?”

“I cannot have chaos erupting around me until I am prepared for it. I am a collector. I am an observer. I don’t participate. My resources, and my standing, must be secure before I can allow the uncertainty of war to crash down upon us.”

“And what about Skulduggery? While you’re waiting for the right moment to tell everyone Serpine is the bad guy, Skulduggery might be killed!”

The hesitation that flickered across China’s face was barely noticeable. “There are casualties in every conflict.”

Stephanie hated her. She turned and stormed back to the open door.

“Where are you going?” China called after her.

“I’m going to do what you’re too scared to do yourself!”

“No, you’re not.”

The door slammed shut before Stephanie reached it, and she spun around. China was walking toward her, her exquisite face perfectly calm.

“You have no right,” China said softly, “to plunge us all into war. Who are you to decide when we fight? Why should you decide when we die?”

“I just want to help my friend,” Stephanie said, taking a step back.

“Skulduggery is not your friend.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And you don’t know
him
, child. He has anger in him like you have never seen. He has hatred in him that you would never dream about. There is not one place he would rather be than where he is right now.”

“You’re crazy.”

“He told you how he died, then?”

“Yes,” Stephanie said. “He was killed by one of Mevolent’s men.”

“Nefarian Serpine killed him,” China said. “He tortured him first, purely for fun. He ridiculed him and he stripped him of his powers. And then he pointed at him. Did you know that’s all it takes,
with that red right hand of his? For him to
point
, and then it’s all over?”

Agonizing death
, Skulduggery had said. Stephanie hadn’t realized he had felt it himself. She shook her head defiantly. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“When he came back, he fought Mevolent’s forces with a single-minded determination—not to defeat evil, but to have his revenge on Mevolent’s lackey. Mevolent himself fell, but just as Skulduggery was in a position to claim his vengeance …”

“There was the Truce,” Stephanie said slowly.

“And suddenly his enemy was a protected citizen. Skulduggery has been waiting a long time to get his revenge, and he will risk anyone and anything in order to get it.”

Stephanie stood up straighter. “Even if you’re right, that doesn’t change the fact that he has been the only one investigating my uncle’s murder, or that he seems to be the only one around here who cares about what is really going on, or that he has saved my life.”

“And put it at risk. Every good thing he has done
for
you has been canceled out by every bad thing he has done
to
you. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I’m not going to abandon him.”

“It is hardly your choice.”

“What are you going to do?” Stephanie challenged.

“I am simply going to ask you to do what I say.”

“Then the answer’s no.”

“My dear Stephanie …”

Stephanie froze. China looked at her. “I’ve known your name since before I met you, child. Your uncle spoke of you often.”

Stephanie lunged for the door, but it was no use.

“Stephanie,” China said softly. Stephanie’s hands dropped to her sides, and she turned. “Tell no one of this.”

Stephanie felt it inside her and knew she would obey; knew no matter how much she raged against it, she would obey. She had no choice. So she nodded as tears stung her eyes, and China smiled that beautiful smile of hers.

T
HE MOON AS OUT
and the stars were twinkling and it really was a beautiful night for pain.

Serpine descended into the castle’s cold, dank depths and strode through the stone corridors. Already he was beginning to smile. He came to the heavy wooden door and paused with his hand over the latch, savoring the deliciousness of the moment.

The latch raised, the door opened, and Serpine stepped in. “Here we are again,” he said.

Skulduggery Pleasant raised his head, practically the only part of his body he could move. Serpine had placed a
binding spell on the shackles that secured him to the chair, and so, unable to use magic, the detective could only watch as Serpine closed the door behind him.

“Life is a cycle, isn’t it, Skulduggery? We are all destined to repeat ourselves, over and over. You, at my mercy. Me, merciless.”

“You, talking,” the detective said. “I thought you’d have grown out of the whole villainy thing by now, Nefarian.”

Serpine smiled as he sat in the wooden chair opposite. The room was small, with stone walls and a single light-bulb hanging from the ceiling. “Being a respectable citizen wasn’t for me, but then, you knew that, didn’t you? You warned them about me, but they didn’t listen. That must have been annoying, for the Elders not to even respect you enough to take you seriously.”

“I think it’s because I’m always smiling.”

“Perhaps you’re right. Oh, Skulduggery, what am I going to do with you?”

“Untie me?”

Serpine laughed. “Maybe later. We always seem to be at each other’s throats, don’t we?”

“Let me ask you a question. Let’s pretend, just for a moment, that we live in your world, where things are crazy and the Faceless Ones are real. When you call them, what do you hope to gain? A pat on the head?”

“How my lords and masters will reward me for my servitude is up to them. I would never presume to guess.”

“The door is closed, Nefarian. Just us two guys in here, chatting. What’s in it for you?”

Serpine leaned in. “I get to be by their side when they raze this world, when they expunge the stain of humanity. And when it’s over, I get to bask in their terrible glory.”

Skulduggery nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t a clue what you just said.”

Serpine laughed.

“You’re going to fall,” Skulduggery continued.

“Really?”

“You’re going to fall hard, and I’m going to be there. I’ll be the one pushing you.”

“Big talk from the man tied to the chair. Or are you even a man? A thing, perhaps? An oddity?”

“They’ll come for you.”

“Who will? The Elders? Meritorious and his lot? Please. They’re too busy worrying about being rude to me.”

“Not after this. They’re probably at your doorstep as we speak.”

Serpine stood, walked behind his captive. “Somehow I don’t think they would be able to marshal their forces so
quickly. Or so efficiently. No, my old enemy, I think for the moment, anyway, we’re all alone. And you have something I want.”

“A winning sense of style?”

“The key,” Serpine said as he walked back into the detective’s line of sight.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Serpine was moving his left hand slightly, like he was conducting music. “Obviously you’re not going to just offer up the information, so I think a spot of torture is required.”

“Ah,” the detective said. “Old times.”

“I remember those dark autumn days that I’d while away, cutting you, making you cry out.”

“Fun for the whole family.”

“You may think my options would be limited, as far as torture is concerned, especially now that you don’t have skin to cut. But I’ve picked up a few new tricks that I think you’ll enjoy.”

Serpine moved his fingers in a wave motion, directing it at the chair he had just been sitting on. The wood creaked and groaned as it expanded and contracted, as if it was breathing. The detective couldn’t avoid looking at it.

“If I can do that to the chair,” Serpine said, enjoying the moment, “think what I can do to bone.” There was a
loud crack as the chair splintered.

Serpine hunkered down in front of him. “Well, Skulduggery? Where is that tired old defiance—the taunting, the goading? Where are the endless heroic clichés? Aren’t you going to look me in the eye and tell me to
do my worst
?”

“Actually, I was going to ask that you go easy on me; I’m feeling kind of tender today.”

Serpine stood, opened his left hand in front of the detective. “This is your one chance. Tell me where the key is.”

“Okay.”

Serpine raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“No, only joking. Do your worst.”

Serpine laughed and his fingers started moving and the detective started screaming.

S
TEPHANE SOAKED HER
elbow in the sink. She had broken off a piece of the rock Tanith Low had given her and dissolved it in the water, filling the sink with bubbles and the library’s restroom with a pungent odor. Whatever the rock was, it was doing its job. The bruises on her arms were receding.

She dried herself with a spotless white towel, let the water gurgle into the drain, and allowed herself to sag against the wall.

Her body may have been tired, but her mind was alert and racing, surging with anger. She was
still furious at herself for being unable to disobey China’s instruction. How could China have done that to her, to Skulduggery? After he had trusted her?

No, she reminded herself. He hadn’t trusted her. That had been
her
mistake, not his. And because she went to China before the Elders, or even Ghastly, now it could be too late to do anything. And it was all her fault.

What had Tanith Low called Stephanie? A warrior? That was laughable. No matter what Tanith thought she had seen in her, she was wrong. There was nothing warriorlike about her. She ran straight into trouble without thinking, without one moment of hesitation. Not because she was brave or heroic, but because she was
stupid
. Because she didn’t want to be left out, because she didn’t want to wait. She didn’t have a plan, she didn’t have a tactic, all she had was a penchant for raising Cain.