Scepter of the Ancients (29 page)

“Could have used your help,” Skulduggery said as they came to a stop.

China shrugged her slender shoulders. “I knew you could do it without me. I had faith. Serpine?”

“Dust,” Skulduggery said. “Too many plans, too many schemes. Sooner or later they’d cancel each other out. That was always his trouble.”

“How did you manage it?”

“He wanted immortality, so he chose death on his own terms—a living death.”

China smiled. “Aha. And because the Scepter can only be wielded when its previous owner is
dead, or in this case, when its owner is the
living
dead …”

“I took it and used it on
him
.” He held up the Scepter. “Something happened, though. There’s no power in it anymore.”

China took it from him, turning it over in her hands. “It was fueled by his hate. Obviously, using it against him made it feed on itself. Congratulations, Skulduggery—you’ve managed to break the ultimate weapon. It’s nothing but an ornament now.”

“An ornament I’d like back,” he said, holding out his hand. She smiled, turning her head slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I’ll buy it from you,” she said.

“Why would you want it?” he asked. “It’s worthless.”

“Sentimental reasons. Besides, you know what an avid collector I am.”

He sighed. “Fine, take it.”

There it was, that smile again. “Thank you. Oh, and the Book?”

“Destroyed.”

“How very like you to destroy the indestructible. You have quite an appetite for destruction, don’t you?”

“China, these bones are weary. …”

“Then I shall leave you.”

“Bliss is still in there,” Stephanie said. “I think he was working against Serpine the whole time. I don’t know if he’s alive, though.”

“That brother of mine is quite resilient. I’ve tried to kill him three times already, and he just won’t stay down.” China got into her car, looked at them through the open window. “Oh, by the way, all three of you—congratulations on saving the world.”

She gave them a beautiful smile and they watched her drive off. They stood there for a while. The sky was beginning to brighten, the first rays of the morning sun seeping into the black.

“You know,” Tanith said weakly, “I still have a gigantic hole in my back.”

“Sorry,” Skulduggery said, and he helped them both toward the Bentley.

S
OMEWHERE IN
H
AGGARD
, a dog was barking. Somewhere a driver beeped his horn, and somewhere else people were laughing. It was a Friday night, and music drifted to Stephanie’s open window from the bars and pubs on Main Street, snatches of songs piggybacking on the warm breeze.

Stephanie sat in her swivel chair, her foot resting on the bed. Skulduggery had taken her to a friend of his, a cantankerous old man who had mended her broken leg within an hour. It was still stiff, still sore, but the bruising had gone down, and
in another few days it would be like it had never been broken at all.

She didn’t mind the recuperation period she had been advised to take. After the week she’d just had, a week in which she’d seen wonder and magic and death and destruction, she could do with a little holiday.

Skulduggery Pleasant sat on the windowsill and told her what was happening in the world outside her bedroom. The White Cleaver had vanished, and they still didn’t know why, or even
how
, he had ignored his master’s final command. Skulduggery had a suspicion that he was under orders from somebody else, but just who this mystery master was he didn’t yet know. Serpine’s allies had resurfaced and struck, and then vanished again when the news of the sorcerer’s demise had reached them. Serpine’s grand scheme might have failed, but because of it, the Cleavers’ numbers had been decimated, and their duties now stretched them thin.

“How’s Tanith?” Stephanie asked. “Will she be okay?”

“She’s lucky to be alive. The injury she took was severe, but she’s strong. She’ll pull through. I’ll
take you to see her when you’re rested.”

“And Ghastly? Any change?”

“I’m afraid not. They’re keeping him safe, but … we don’t know how long he’ll stay like that. Fortunately for him, the time will pass in the blink of an eye. The rest of us will have to wait. On the bright side, the Sanctuary has a new and interesting addition to their Hall of Statues.”

“Do they
have
a Hall of Statues?”

“Well, no. But now that they’ve got a statue, maybe they’ll start.”

“What are they going to do about the Council of Elders?”

“Meritorious was a good man, the most powerful Grand Mage we had seen in a long time. The other Elders in Europe are worried about who will fill the vacuum now that he’s gone. The Americans are offering their support, the Japanese are sending delegates to help us wrest back some control, but …”

“It sounds like a lot of people are panicking.”

“And they have a right to. Our systems of power, our systems of self-government, are delicate. If we topple, others will follow. We need a strong leader.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

He laughed. “Because I’m not well liked, and I’m not well trusted, and I already have a job. I’m a detective, remember?”

She gave a little shrug. “Vaguely.”

Another snippet of pub music drifted by the window, and she thought about the world she’d grown up in, and how different it was from the world she’d been introduced to, and yet how similar. There was joy and happiness in both, just as there was heartbreak and horror. There was good and evil and everything in between, and these qualities seemed to be shared equally in the worlds of the magical and the mundane. It was her life now. She couldn’t imagine living without either one.

“How are you?” Skulduggery asked, his voice gentle.

“Me? I’m fine.”

“Really? No nightmares?”

“Maybe one or two,” she admitted.

“They’ll always be there, reminding us of where we went wrong. If you pay attention to your bad dreams, they can help you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind next time I’m asleep.”

“Good,” said Skulduggery. “In any event, get well soon. We have mysteries to solve, and adventures to undertake, and I need my partner and student with me.”

“Student?”

He shrugged. “Things are going to get a lot rougher from here on in, and I need someone to fight by my side. There’s something about you, Valkyrie. I’m not quite sure what it is. I look at you, and …”

“And you’re reminded of yourself when you were my age?”

“Hm? Oh, no; what I was going to say is there’s something about you that is really annoying, and you never do what you’re told, and sometimes I question your intelligence—but even so, I’m going to train you, because I like having someone follow me around like a little puppy. It makes me feel good about myself.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are such a moron.”

“Don’t be jealous of my genius.”

“Can you get over yourself for just a moment?”

“If only that were possible.”

“For a guy with no internal organs, you’ve got quite the ego.”

“And for a girl who can’t stand up without falling over, you’re quite the critic.”

“My leg will be fine.”

“And my ego will flourish. What a pair we are.”

She had to laugh. “Go on, get out. Mum’ll be up soon to check on me.”

“Before I go …”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to show me what you’ve been practicing? You’ve been dying to show off from the moment I knocked on this window.”

She looked at him and arched an eyebrow, but he was right and he knew it. The other good thing about this recuperation period was that she had all the time she wanted to develop her powers, and she hadn’t wasted the few days that had passed already.

She clicked her fingers, summoning a small flame into the palm of her hand. She watched it flicker and dance, then looked up at Skulduggery and grinned.

“Magic,” he said.

V
AIALKYRIE
C
AIN
hit the arapet and tumbled, unable to stop herself, and with a panicked gasp she disappeared off the edge. The church tower stood high and proud, looking out over Dublin City. The night breeze was brisk and carried snatches of laughter from the street below. It was a long way down.
A
man in a tattered coat walked up to the edge and peered over. He smirked.

“This is insulting,” he said. “Don’t they know how dangerous
I
am?
I
am very, very dangerous. I’m a killer. I’m a trained killing
machine.
And still, they send
you.
A
child.”

Valkyrie felt her grip on the ledge loosen. She ignored the goading of the man standing above her and looked around for something else to grab on to. She looked everywhere but down. Down was where the street was, where the long drop and the sudden stop was. She didn’t want to look down. She didn’t want anything to do with
down
right now.

“What age are you?” the man continued. “Thirteen? What kind of responsible adult sends a thirteen-year-old child to stop me? What kind of thinking is that?”

Valkyrie swung herself gently toward the tower, planting her feet against a small buttress. The fear started to work through her, and she felt herself freeze up. She closed her eyes against the oncoming wave of paralysis.

The man was Vaurien Scapegrace, currently wanted in five countries for various counts of attempted murder. He hunkered down at the edge and smiled happily.

“I am turning murder into an art form. When I—when I
kill
, I’m actually painting a big, big picture, using blood and, and … messiness. You know?”

Below Valkyrie, the city twinkled.

“I’m an artist,” Scapegrace continued. “Some people don’t appreciate that. Some people don’t recognize true talent when they see it. And that’s fine. I’m not bitter. My time will come.”

“Serpine tried to bring the Faceless Ones back,” Valkyrie managed to say. Her fingers were burning, and the muscles in her legs were screaming at her. “We stopped him. We’ll stop you, too.”

He laughed. “What, you think I want the old gods to walk the Earth once again? Is that it? You think Nefarian Serpine was my leader? I’m not one of those nut-bag disciples, all right? I’m my own man.”

Valkyrie had one chance, but she needed to be calm to take advantage of it. Her powers, limited though they were, were Elemental—the manipulation of earth, air, fire, and water. But at this stage of her training they didn’t work when she was panicking.

“So if you don’t want the Faceless Ones to return,” she said, “what do you want? Why are you doing this?”

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s grown-up stuff. I just want a little appreciation for who I am, that’s all. That’s not much to ask, is
it? But of course, you wouldn’t know. You’re just a kid.” He shrugged. “Oh well. Time to die.”

He reached down to shove her.

“Have you killed anyone?” she asked quickly.

“What? Did you miss what I said, about turning murder into an art form?”

“But you haven’t actually killed anyone yet, have you? I read your file.”

He glowered. “Technically, yeah, all right, maybe I haven’t, but tonight’s the night. You’re going to be my first.”

She readied herself, controlled her breathing. “Find the space where everything connects,” she murmured.

Scapegrace frowned. “What?”

Valkyrie kicked upward, taking her right hand from the outcrop and feeling the air against her palm. She pushed at it the way she’d been taught, and it shimmered and hit Scapegrace, throwing him off his feet. Valkyrie clutched at the edge of the parapet, her legs swinging in open air. She grunted and pulled herself up, then flung her left arm across the edge and hauled herself the rest of the way.

Valkyrie got to her feet, her arms and legs trembling after the strain, and moved away from the
edge. The wind whipped her dark hair across her face.

Scapegrace was already getting up, and she saw anger seep into his features. She clicked her fingers, generating a spark that she caught in her hand. She tried to focus, tried to build it into a flame, but Scapegrace was coming at her like a freight train.

She jumped and thrust out both feet. Her boots slammed into his chest, and he hit the ground again and went sprawling.

He turned to her just as she lashed a kick into his jaw. His body twisted and he tumbled back, came up to his feet, then lost his balance, fell again. He spat blood and glared.

“You little brat,” he snarled. “You uppity, sneaky little
brat
. You don’t know who you’re messing with, do you? I am going to be the greatest killer the world has ever known.” He stood up slowly, wiping his sleeve across his burst lip. “When I’m finished with you, I’m going to deliver your mutilated, bloody corpse to your masters, as a warning. They sent you up against me, alone. Next time they’re going to have to send a battalion.”