Playing with Fire (Skulduggery Pleasant, Book 2) (13 page)

151

Skulduggery hauled her back, and then she was running again.

They ran for the double doors ahead, and Skulduggery snapped out his hand and the air rippled and the doors were ripped from their hinges. They sprinted through and kept going, into a room that must have been the foyer. Skulduggery threw a few more fireballs and Valkyrie got to the main door, slammed her shoulder into it, and burst into the warm sunshine.

The light hit her eyes and blinded her momentarily. She felt Skulduggery beside her, tugging on her sleeve, and she followed him. She could see fine now, she could see the dark lake ahead and blue sky above.

They stopped running. They heard the spiders, the
click-clack
of their talons, the frantic scuttling in the doorway, but the spiders were unwilling to leave the darkness for the daylight, and eventually the scuttling went away.

A few moments passed, and Valkyrie breathed normally and noticed for the first time that Skulduggery was looking at something over her left shoulder.

"What?" she asked, but he didn't answer.

152

She turned. The Torment was standing there, his long gray hair tangled in his long beard, Skulduggery's gun pointed right at her.

"Who are you," the Torment said in a voice that hadn't been used in years, "to come after
me,
to disturb
me,
after all these years?"

"We're here on Sanctuary business," Skulduggery said. "We're detectives."

"She's a child," the Torment said. "And you're a dead man."

"Technically speaking, you may well be right, but we are more than we appear. We believe you have information that may aid us in an investigation."

"You say that as if I am obligated to help you," the old man responded, the gun not wavering. "What do I care for your investigations? What do I care for detecting, and Sanctuary business? I hate the Sanctuary, and the Council of Elders, and I loathe all they stand for. We are sorcerers. We should not be
hiding
from the mortals, we should be
ruling
them."

"We need to find out how to stop the Grotesquery," Valkyrie said. "If it opens the portal and lets the Faceless Ones back in, everyone suffers, not just-- "

153

"The child is addressing me," the Torment said. "Make her stop."

Valkyrie narrowed her eyes but shut up.

Skulduggery tilted his head. "What she says is true. You had no love for Mevolent when he was alive, and I'm sure you have no wish to see the Faceless Ones return. If you help us, there might be something we can do to help you."

The Torment laughed. "Favors? You wish to trade favors?"

"If that will make you help us, yes."

The Torment frowned suddenly and looked at Valkyrie. "You. Child. You have tainted blood in your veins. I can taste it from here."

She said nothing.

"You're connected to them, aren't you? The Ancients? I despise the Ancients as much as I despise the Faceless Ones, you know. If either race were to return, they would rule it all."

"The Ancients were the good guys," Valkyrie said.

The Torment scowled. "Power is power. Sorcerers have the power to run the world-- the only reason we don't is weakness of leadership. But if the Ancients were to return, do you really think

154

they'd make the same mistake? Beings of such power have no place on this Earth. I had hoped the last of your kind had died out."

"Sorry to disappoint."

The Torment looked back to Skulduggery. "This information, dead man, must be worth a lot to you. And this favor you are promising-- this, too, would be equally substantial?"

"I suppose it would be."

The Torment smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant sight. "What do you need?"

"We need to know where Baron Vengeous has been keeping the Grotesquery since his imprisonment, and we need to know how he plans to raise it."

"I have the information you seek."

"What do you want in return?"

"My needs are modest," the Torment said. "I would like you to kill the child."

155

Chapter Fourteen

SPRINGING JACK

JACK COULDN'T SPRING.

Even if he could-- even if this cell, with its narrow bed and its toilet and its sink, was big enough-- he still wouldn't have been able to spring. The cell was bound, and dampened his powers.

Springheeled Jack sat on his bed and contemplated life without springing.

He also contemplated life without killing, which was twisting him up inside, without his favorite foods, without dancing about on rooftops, and without everything he loved.

156

They'd throw away the key, he knew they would. The English Council, once they finally got the chance to put him away, wouldn't be lenient. His trial would be over in a flash, and he'd be looking at hundreds of years in prison.

Jack lay down, resting his forearm over his eyes to block out that dreadful artificial light. No more open sky for him. No more stars. No more moon.

"You're uglier than I remember."

Jack catapulted off the bed. A man was standing in the cell, leaning against the wall and grinning.

"Sanguine," Jack said, his own mouth twisting. "Come 'ere to gloat, 'ave you? I'd like to say I'm surprised, but naw, that kinda behavior is what I've come to expect from you."

"Jack, my old friend, your words, they sting."

"You're no friend of mine," Jack said.

Sanguine shrugged. "We may have had our differences over the years, but the way I see it, that's all behind us now. I'm here to help you. I'm here to get you out."

He tapped the cracked wall. Loose chips crumbled and fell, trailing dust.

Jack frowned. "What gives?"

157

"I just want you to do a little favor for me, is all."

"Don't much like the idea of doin'
you
a favor."

"You'd prefer to sit in a cell for the rest of your life?"

Jack didn't answer.

"Just a little favor. Somethin' you'd enjoy, actually. I want you to cause some trouble."

"Why?"

"Never you mind. Think you'd be able to help me?"

"Depends. What kind of trouble?"

"Oh, nothin' much. Just want you to kill some folks."

Jack couldn't help it. He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Easy as pie, for someone of your talents. You agree to do this, I take you with me right now and we scoot on outta here."

"Killin', eh?"

"An' lots of it."

"And that's all? Once I do it, we're even? 'Cause I know who you've worked for in the past, Tex, an' I ain't gonna start workin' for the Faceless Ones or nothin'."

"Did I mention the Faceless Ones? No I did not."

158

"It's got nothin' to do with them?" "Cross my heart and hope to die. So, you in?" Jack put on his coat and picked up his battered top hat. "Let's go."

Chapter Fifteen

POINT-BLANK

159

BRACING HIS LEFT HAND against the wall and gripping the chain with his right, Scapegrace heaved.

The pipe was begging to give. He could feel it. He could hear it. Every other pipe in the place would have broken by now-- he should know, he'd had them installed. Just his luck that the skeleton would shackle him to the only
secure
pipe in the building.

He gritted his teeth. His face was red from exertion, and he really needed to start breathing again sometime soon.

160

And then the pipe broke and Scapegrace went flying backward, his whoop of triumph cut short when he hit his head on the floor. He lay there for a moment, free at last and trying not to cry, and then he got up, the shackle dangling from his wrist. There was nothing he could do about the shackles around his ankles, so he quickly shuffled to the door.

Making sure the skeleton and the girl weren't anywhere close, he stepped out. His steps were ridiculously short, and he probably looked like some sort of demented penguin as he made his way away from the pub. He'd find someone to help him, someone who could get these shackles off. After all, the
entire
population of Roarhaven couldn't want him dead, surely.

He came around a corner, near the Roarhaven Sanctuary, and froze. For a moment he was too stunned to even smile. But then the smile appeared, and it brightened his day. The Torment was pointing a gun at Pleasant and Cain.

Chuckling, Scapegrace shuffled over. The skeleton's skull was as blank as ever, but the girl was looking at the Torment like she couldn't believe what he had just said. Nobody paid any attention to Scapegrace.

161

"You can't be serious," said Cain.

Scapegrace loved the way the Torment ignored her and spoke only to the skeleton. "Kill the child," he was saying. "Shoot her, if you want. Set fire to her. Strangle her. I do not care."

If Scapegrace had been able, he would have done a dance there and then.

"I'm not going to kill Valkyrie," Pleasant said.

"Dead man, what is one life compared to billions? And if the Faceless Ones return, billions
will
die. You know this."

"That may be so, but I'm not killing her."

"Those are my terms."

"There must be something else," Skulduggery said. "Something reasonable I can do."

"I'll make this easy for you."

The Torment tossed the skeleton's revolver back to him. The skeleton caught it and pointed it right between the Torment's eyes. Scapegrace lost his grin. Things had suddenly taken a turn for the worse.

"No one dies here," Pleasant said, "except maybe
you.
Where is the Grotesquery?"

"I am the Torment, dead man. Do you really think I fear death?"

162

For another few seconds, the gun didn't waver, but then Pleasant lowered his arm. Scapegrace could breathe again, and the Torment nodded with satisfaction.

"You need my help," he said. "You have my terms. Kill the child."

"You can't just-- "

"Time is running out."

"Listen to me, this is
insane.
She's done nothing-- "

"Tick," the Torment said. "Tock."

The skeleton looked at the girl, and Scapegrace saw the doubt in her eyes.

She pointed at the Torment. "Beat him up. Beat him up or, or
something.
Shoot his foot."

The skeleton shook his head. "Threats won't work."

"Empty
threats won't work, but if you
actually
shoot his foot-- "

"Valkyrie, no. I've met people like him before. Everyone has a breaking point, but we don't have time." Pleasant turned back to the Torment. "How do I know you have the information I need?"

"Because I'm telling you I do," the Torment answered, "and you don't have the luxury to doubt

163

me. By now, Baron Vengeous will have retrieved Lord Vile's armor. The time you have left is like sand clasped in a fist. It's sifting through your fingers, dead man. Will you kill the child?"

"He will not!" Cain said defiantly. "Tell him, Skulduggery!"

Scapegrace's heart almost burst with joy when Pleasant remained silent.

Cain stared at the skeleton, and took one step away. "Don't tell me you're actually
considering
this."

"Do you have your phone?"

"What?"

"You need to call your parents. You have to say good-bye."

A moment passed, and Cain turned to run, but Pleasant was too fast. He grabbed her wrist and twisted, and she fell to her knees in pain.

"Be brave," the skeleton said.

"Let go of me!" Cain shouted.

Pleasant looked at the Torment. "Give us a minute."

"A minute," the Torment said. "Nothing more."

Scapegrace watched as the skeleton pulled Cain to her feet, his hand still gripping her arm, and led

164

her away. The words he spoke were quiet, and the girl shook her head and tried to pull away again. They got to the corner of the Roarhaven Sanctuary, and finally the girl started nodding. She took out her phone.

"This is brilliant," Scapegrace said to the Torment.

The Torment turned his head to him, and frowned. "Who are you?"

"I'm ... sorry? It's
me,
it's Vaurien. Vaurien Scapegrace. I. . . built the cellar for you?"

"Oh," the Torment said.
"You.
Why are you back? I thought you were dead. It would have been nice if you were dead."

Although he had never known the Torment to make a joke, Scapegrace decided he was making a joke now, so he laughed.

"This is brilliant," he said again. "Making him kill Cain. I mean, it's just brilliant. It's
genius.
I'd have never thought of something like this."

"I know."

"Do you mind me asking, where do you get your ideas? Do they come to you in a dream, or is it just, you know, instinct? I'm keeping a, like a journal, where I jot down all my ideas and my thoughts and-- "