Resurrection (Skulduggery Pleasant, Book 10) Page 24

  Valkyrie opened her mouth, but the word was taking its time to build.

  “You mentioned the trained investigators I have on the City Guard,” China said, “like they’d notice something you wouldn’t. Like they’d be better than you. You seem to have forgotten that you were trained by the best.”

  “I’m not a detective, China.”

  “Your badge says differently.”

  “I can’t do this without him. You know that.”

  “You don’t have a choice. Skulduggery Pleasant is your enemy now. You’ve never faced anyone like him before. But he’s never faced anyone like you, either.”

  “He’ll kill me.”

  “He’ll certainly try.”

  “China, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I don’t stand a chance against him. The moment he decides to end the game, I’m dead.”

  “You know him better than anyone. You know him better than I ever did. With Skulduggery on their side, the anti-Sanctuary will succeed. Abyssinia will be resurrected and, if she wants war, she’ll have war. She’ll lay waste to everything. The entire mortal world is in danger. That means your family, Valkyrie. We have one chance to stop them, and that chance is to stop him. You’re the only one who can do that.”

  “No, I’m not. Get Saracen Rue and Dexter Vex back here. Find Tanith, wherever the hell she is. Call Gracious and Donegan off whatever adventure they’re on right now and put guns in their hands. That’s what you need. You need a team.”

  “We need you,” said China. “I’ll ask Gracious and Donegan to help you if you need them. I’ll try to find Rue and Vex, but the last I heard they weren’t on good terms. You don’t need Tanith Low, but Roarhaven needs you. I need you, Valkyrie. And Skulduggery definitely needs you. He abandoned his family crest because of the things he’d done during the war, and he’s spent the time since looking for redemption. How do you think he’ll take it if he kills someone while under Smoke’s influence? Do you think he’ll forgive himself?”

  “China …”

  “This is a burden. I understand that. You wish you could just walk away. I understand that, too. I’m offering you that chance right now. Tell me you want to go. Say yes, and you’ll get a Cleaver escort home. But, if you can’t say yes, then find that girl you once were and be her again. We need that Valkyrie Cain. I’m sorry, but we don’t need you.”

  The rain got heavier. Valkyrie watched it hit the shield surrounding the balcony, the drops hissing, steam rising. Cleavers wouldn’t be able to save her, not if Skulduggery came looking, and there wasn’t anywhere she could run that he wouldn’t be able to follow. She felt like she was on a sinking boat. Her only hope, as much as it scared her, was to dive into the churning waters before the boat took her down with it.

  “I need Richard Melior’s old address back in San Francisco,” Valkyrie said. “I looked it up in the Neoteric Report, but all contact details have been blacked out.”

  China nodded. “I’ll get it for you.”

  “And I’m going to need a Teleporter. A healthy one.”

  “Difficult,” said China. “There are only three in the world that I know of, plus this Nero and one of Fletcher’s own students. Maybe I can organise something. If not, you’ll have access to my jet. You also have the entire City Guard at your disposal if you need them.”

  Valkyrie shook her head. “Skulduggery didn’t trust them. That means I don’t, either. No offence.”

  China hesitated. “Of course.”

  “But I might need Cleavers. Lots of them. At a moment’s notice.”

  “I can give you a sigil,” China said. “It can be both a distress call and a homing device.”

  Valkyrie hesitated. “Sure,” she said. “So long as it can’t track me without my knowing.”

  China tapped her forefinger and it began to glow. “You can activate and deactivate it at will,” she said. “It’s a small sigil, easily concealable. Where do you want it?”

  Valkyrie sat again and leaned back, hooked a thumb into the waistband of her jeans and pulled it down to her hipbone. China got to her knees and pressed her fingernail into Valkyrie’s skin. It was hot, very hot, but not entirely unpleasant.

  “Why did he really quit as City Guard Commander?” Valkyrie asked as China worked. “What did he do? What did you do?”

  China focused on the tattoo she was carving and didn’t look up. “He felt his time here was at an end. I was sorry to see him go.”

  Her fingernail curved around and then slashed backwards slightly. A dot here, a cross there. Incredibly intricate markings. No blood.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Valkyrie said.

  “Some questions are not mine to answer.” China glanced up at her with those beautiful eyes. “Skulduggery has his reasons, Valkyrie. I might agree with some of them, I might disagree with others, but there’s no arguing with him. You know that.”

  She went back to work. Moments later, she was done.

  “It’s called an auxilium,” China said, straightening up. “It’s from a time when all sigils had a Latin name. What a dreary time that was. Anyway, tap it and I’ll know you’re in trouble and where to send assistance.”

  The sigil was black and small, maybe a couple of centimetres in circumference. The skin sizzled a little, and a second later the tattoo faded away.

  “Thanks,” Valkyrie said, and stood.

  “Detective Cain of the Arbiter Corps,” China said. “Good to have you back.”

  43

  He was going to kill her. He was going to torture her. He’d make Valkyrie Cain scream and cry and beg. He’d draw it out. Make it last. He was going to enjoy it, too. Killing her would be his most enjoyable murder since the first, all those years ago.

  Cadaverous sipped from his glass of water. Thoughts like that made his mouth dry and his heart beat faster.

  The others talked. They sat around the table, located in Coldheart’s only conference room, and chatted – Nero and Memphis and Razzia – but Cadaverous stayed quiet. It wasn’t that he couldn’t chat – he could chat with the best of them. He was the master of small talk. He’d had to be, back when he’d been mortal, having to go to all those insufferable social engagements. Book launches for stale academic tomes. Office parties. After-work drinks. He’d been pretending the whole time, of course, hiding his hatred behind a smile or a witty remark. That’s how he’d blended in. That’s how nobody suspected anything – not until the very end.

  But these days he just wasn’t in the mood to talk, to chat. Not since Valkyrie Cain had killed Jeremiah.

  Skulduggery Pleasant walked in, went right up to Nero. “May I?”

  Nero laughed, and the chatter died down. “May you what?”

  “Sit.”

  Nero indicated around him. “There are two free chairs.”

  Pleasant nodded. “And I want your chair. May I?”

  Cadaverous watched. Such an obvious alpha-male ploy. If Nero had any sense, he’d call it out for what it was and refuse to budge.

  But after a long moment of hesitation Nero got up, and Pleasant sat, leaned back and put his feet up on the table. Nero chose one of the other chairs, blushing impotently.

  “Now then,” Pleasant said, “you probably dislike me intensely – I can understand that – but let’s try to move past it as quickly as possible. Who’s in charge here? Anyone? It doesn’t matter. Allow me to put my name forward as leader of this anti-Sanctuary of yours. It’ll save time and prevent a lot of arguments later on. Really, a lot. All those in agreement say aye.”

  “Aye!” shouted Razzia.

  “Thank you,” said Pleasant.

  “No worries,” Razzia said, grinning. “What were we talking about? I wasn’t listening.”

  “That barely matters,” Pleasant said, taking off his hat. “A vote from you, a vote from me, and the rest have abstained out of sheer respect. I thank you all. It has been decided.”

  “I’d heard you didn’t quit talking,” said Memphis, in that half-slurre
d, half-drawl way of his. “I just didn’t believe it.”

  “Ah-ah, young man,” Pleasant said, wagging his finger, “I hold the Speaking Hat. You may not speak without holding the Speaking Hat. That’s one of the new rules I’m introducing as leader.”

  “You ain’t our leader.”

  “Again – Memphis, is it? – who holds the hat? Who does? Me, that’s who. Talking privileges are mine. This way we’ll all get a chance to be heard eventually. It’s called being civilised, which is something else I’m introducing.”

  Memphis shook his head. “This is ridiculous.”

  Cadaverous had to hand it to the skeleton, he had style. He didn’t even take his feet down. He used the air to boost himself up to a standing position on the table, whipping his gun out as he did so, and took two steps before pointing the gun right between Memphis’s eyes. It all took less time than a hiccup.

  There was shouting and roaring and consternation – and much laughter from Razzia – but Memphis remained very still, the colour draining from his face.

  Finally, everyone else stopped making idiots of themselves, and things quietened down.

  “The only thing ridiculous,” Pleasant said softly, “aside from your garish jacket and uneven pompadour, is the blatant disregard for the rules of debate. When I am finished talking, you may retort. Otherwise it ceases to be about the content of our conversation, and becomes little more than a contest in volume. Would you agree?”

  Memphis didn’t say anything. Pleasant let go of his hat, and it floated slowly down to the table. Memphis swallowed, and picked it up. “Yes,” he said.

  Pleasant put away his gun. He walked back, jumped down and retook his seat, then indicated to Memphis that he should continue.

  Memphis cleared his throat. “Not many folks get to pull a gun on me, man. Most who try end up deader than disco. I’m going to kill you for that, just so you know.”

  Pleasant nodded.

  Memphis cleared his throat and adjusted his position. “What I was saying was that you ain’t our leader. We don’t even trust you. Smoke can do his thing and compel you to obey and all, but I’m sure someone like you, someone who reckons he’s the smartest guy in the room, could find loopholes in his orders. You want a vote? My vote is we take care of business, and kill you now.”

  “I agree,” said Cadaverous.

  Pleasant flicked his hand, and his hat leaped from Memphis’s hands and whirled across the table, landing in Cadaverous’s lap. It was a good hat. Expertly made, like the black suit he wore. Cadaverous threw it behind him, aware that it didn’t even touch the ground before Pleasant used the air to catch it.

  “There are plenty of ways to kill a dead man,” Cadaverous said. “Give me a day. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Crush his bones,” said Memphis.

  “Dump him on the moon,” said Nero.

  Pleasant shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re all finding so hard to grasp about the principle of the Speaking Hat.”

  The door opened and Lethe walked in. He stopped when he saw their new addition. “Ah,” he said. “You’re here. Welcome.”

  Pleasant plucked his hat from the air. “Thank you.”

  “It’s an honour to have you here,” Lethe went on, sitting at the table. “You are a legend, Skulduggery. The things you’ve done, the feats you’ve accomplished … It humbles me. I may have beaten you in single combat, but please know that I am in awe of you. You have my utmost respect.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.”

  “You know everyone here, I take it? Small talk has been exchanged?”

  “To a degree. So do I get to see it?”

  “See what, Skulduggery?”

  “The little box,” said Pleasant, “with the little heart.”

  “You’ll see it when you’ve proven yourself. When we can trust you. You must understand, Skulduggery … we know what you’re feeling right now. You’re confused. You have all these dark thoughts in your head.”

  “I’m used to them.”

  Lethe laughed. “Maybe you are. Maybe. But not like this. Not … concentrated like this. It can be overwhelming. The urge to destroy just to destroy … it is a powerful urge.”

  Pleasant tilted his head. “You think I’ll turn against you.”

  “It’s possible,” said Lethe. “These urges can make people do terribly destructive things, not always in our favour. And if that happens we’ll kill you, naturally, but I’m hoping that you’ll decide to join us. All we want is our rightful place as kings and queens of this world. Wouldn’t you love to walk through O’Connell Street or Times Square or Piccadilly Circus without bothering with your false face? Isn’t it time that sorcerers like you and Neoterics like us stopped hiding away from the mortals? Isn’t it time we took up our crowns? Maybe you don’t agree. Maybe you’re happy where you are.”

  “I’ve never had a problem with the mortals,” Pleasant said. “One of my best friends was a mortal.”

  “So you’re not going to help us?”

  “I didn’t say that. Those dark thoughts you mentioned, they’re doing quite a number on my morality, such as it is. There are all kinds of people I suddenly want to kill, mortals included. I’ll help you, because I like your plan and I’m interested in seeing if it’ll work, but I have one condition. More of an unbreakable rule, actually. Valkyrie Cain is mine.”

  “Ah,” said Lethe. “Yes, we thought you might bring this up. Valkyrie Cain, unfortunately, is already promised to Cadaverous here.”

  “And I’m not letting her go,” Cadaverous said.

  Pleasant turned his eye sockets to him, and Cadaverous could see the light reflecting on the inside of his skull. “You blame Valkyrie for your friend’s death.”

  “Jeremiah Wallow,” Cadaverous said. “He had a name.”

  “And yet, the way Valkyrie tells it, Mr Wallow fell. She didn’t push him. She didn’t kill him.”

  “She’s responsible for his death.”

  “So is gravity, but you’re not out to kill gravity, are you? Your friend is dead, you’re angry and upset, you want someone to blame. Perfectly understandable, if completely redundant. Your sadly deceased friend’s own clumsy incompetence does not guarantee you the right to Valkyrie’s life. It just doesn’t.”

  “I’ve already staked my claim.”

  “Calling shotgun does not guarantee you a front seat, Cadaverous. We’re not children here, are we?”

  “Skulduggery,” Lethe said, “I’m afraid we have already agreed that Cadaverous kills Valkyrie.”

  Pleasant went quiet for a moment, and sat back, steepling his fingers. “I’m trying to decide,” he said.

  “Decide what?” Lethe asked.

  Pleasant stood, and took out his gun. “Which one of you I kill first.”

  “Sit down,” said Smoke, walking into the room, and immediately Pleasant sat. It was a petty joy that leaped into Cadaverous’s heart, but it was a joy, nonetheless.

  “How’s it feel,” Nero asked, “to be his puppet?”

  “This is an odd sensation,” Pleasant muttered.

  Smoke sat at the table. “I control you. You do what I tell you. If I instruct you to dance for us, you’ll dance for us. If I instruct you to only talk in rhyming couplets, that’s what you’ll do. You are mine – you understand that? You have no free will when it comes to me.”

  “This is interesting,” Pleasant said. “But I’m afraid it’s completely unacceptable.” In a flash, the gun was pointed straight at Smoke’s head—

  —but Pleasant’s finger froze over the trigger.

  Smoke sighed. “You think you’re the first person to try that? Seriously? You can’t and won’t hurt me. Put the gun away.”

  “But of course,” the skeleton said, holstering the weapon inside his jacket like it was his own idea. Cadaverous found that vaguely annoying. “Where were we?”

  “I was about to suggest a compromise,” Lethe said, “regarding this whole killing Valkyrie disagreement.”


  Cadaverous leaned forward. “No compromise,” he said. “We had a deal.”

  Lethe held up a hand. “You both will refrain from killing her until, at the earliest, the resurrection of Abyssinia. The moment is close, but has yet to arrive, and who knows what will happen before then? If only one of you reaches the moment, you get to kill Miss Cain. If both of you survive until then, you’ll fight for the honour.”

  Cadaverous frowned. “In a place of my choosing?”

  “You were first to make the claim, so yes.”

  Cadaverous smiled. “Deal.”

  Pleasant shrugged. “I’m in,” he said, and clapped his hands. “So, what’s the next step?”

  “First Wave,” said Lethe. “This is a crucial juncture and they need guidance. They need Parthenios Lilt.”

  “He’s being kept in a cell in the High Sanctuary,” Pleasant said. “Do we break him out?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Lethe responded. “We have our man on the inside who can take care of this for us.”

  Pleasant tilted his head again. “Who?”

  “A man on the inside,” Lethe repeated. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Pleasant shrugged. “If you have a secret you want to keep, then you keep your secret. Just tell me what you want me to do. How about the Soul Catcher that Melior’s going to need for the resurrection? I happen to know where we could pick one up without too much trouble.”

  “Again,” said Lethe, “that is already taken care of. We have one that Destrier is adapting to Doctor Melior’s specifications. Your job, Skulduggery, will be to track down a Neoteric. The good doctor reckons he’ll need the life force of two sacrificial lambs for the ritual to be successful, but I think three. It’s better to have a sacrificial lamb and not need it, than need a sacrificial lamb and not have it. Memphis and Nero, you’ll be going after the first. Smoke and I will go after the second. Skulduggery … you’ll be teaming up with Cadaverous here, and you’ll bring us back the third. Is that OK with you?”

  Pleasant spread his arms wide. “I’m part of the team, Lethe. I’ll do whatever I’m told.”

  “Wait a second,” Razzia said, frowning. “How come I don’t get to play?”