Playing with Fire (Skulduggery Pleasant, Book 2) (3 page)

23

"You assume correctly," Skulduggery said. "And I'm sure you already know why we're here."

Her smile turned coy. "Let me think ... a certain recently liberated Baron? You want to know if I've heard any particularly juicy rumors?"

"Have you?" Valkyrie asked.

China hesitated, looked around, and gave them another smile. "Let us talk privately," she said, leading them out of the library and across the hall, into her luxurious apartment. Once Skulduggery had closed the door, she took a seat.

"Tell me, Valkyrie," she said, "how much do you know about Baron Vengeous?"

Valkyrie sat on the couch but Skulduggery remained standing. "Not a whole lot," she said. "He's dangerous, I know that much."

"Oh yes," China agreed, her blue eyes twinkling in the lamplight. "Very dangerous. He is a fanatical follower of the Faceless Ones, and there is nothing more dangerous than a zealot. Along with Nefarian Serpine and Lord Vile, Vengeous was one of Mevolent's most trusted generals. He was assigned to their most secret operations. Have you ever heard of the Grotesquery, my dear?"

Valkyrie shook her head.

24

"Before he was caught, Baron Vengeous was given the task of resurrecting a Faceless One from the remains found in a long-forgotten tomb."

Valkyrie frowned. "Is that even possible? Bringing one of them back to life after all this time?"

It was Skulduggery who answered her. "Bringing the Faceless One back
whole
proved to be beyond his abilities, so Vengeous combined the remains with parts and organs from other creatures, forming a hybrid-- what he called a Grotesquery. But even then, an ingredient was missing."

China took over. "Two ingredients, actually. First, he needed a Necromancer's power to revive it, and then, once it was alive, he needed something to keep it that way.

"When Lord Vile died, Vengeous thought he could harness Vile's power. Vile was a Necromancer, a practitioner of death magic-- shadow magic. It is the Necromancer way to place most of their power in an object, or a weapon, or, in this case, his armor."

"So if Vengeous wore that armor," Valkyrie said, "he'd have all Vile's power. . . ."

25

"But he couldn't find the armor," Skulduggery said. "Lord Vile died alone, and his armor was lost."

"What about the other missing ingredient? Did he find out what that was?"

China answered. "From what I have heard, yes. He did."

"So what is it?"

"He knows. We don't."

"Ah."

"Fortunately for us, and the world at large, Skulduggery was around to foil this plot before Vengeous could find the armor and retrieve this mysterious missing ingredient. He tracked the Baron to a known enemy hideaway and brought him to justice, in what became one of the most talked-about battles of the entire war. Skulduggery was badly injured in that fight, if I remember correctly."

Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery and he folded his arms.

"This is a history lesson," he said. "Why are we going over this?"

"Because," China said with a smile, "I have heard that this final missing ingredient-- whatever it is-- has at last been recovered, or at least

26

located, by the Baron's associates."

Skulduggery's head tilted. "Who
are
these associates?"

"I'm afraid not even I know that."

"So if Vengeous now has the missing ingredient," Valkyrie said, uneasily, "can he revive the, uh, the Grow Thing?"

"Grotesquery," China corrected.

"And no," Skulduggery said, "it's impossible. He'd need Vile's armor, which he doesn't have."

"But if he
did,
and he revived this thing, what would it do? Would we be able to stop it?"

Skulduggery hesitated for a split second. "The threat the Grotesquery would pose is a little bigger than that. Theoretically, it would be able to summon the Faceless Ones back to this world, by opening a portal through realities."

"A portal?" Valkyrie said, a little doubtfully.

"Yes, but the Grotesquery would have to be at full strength to do it, and that's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

"A heart had to be provided for it, but the only one suitable was the heart of a Cu Gealach."

"I'm sorry?"

27

"Cu na Gealai Duibhe," China said, "to give it its full Irish title. They
do
still teach you Gaeilge in school, yes?"

"Yes, it means . . . it's 'Black Hound of something,' right?"

"Almost. Hound of the Black Moon. Terrible creatures. They're virtually extinct now, but they were ruthless, savage things."

"Ruthless, savage things," Skulduggery said, "that were only ruthlessly savage for one night every few years, at a lunar eclipse. So no matter how much power Vengeous pumps into that thing, the Grotesquery will not be strong enough to open a portal until the Earth, moon, and sun line up, which won't be for another-- "

"Two nights," China said.

Skulduggery sagged and his head drooped. "Well that's just
dandy,"
he muttered.

They were on the motorway, heading to Haggard. "So," Valkyrie said, "a legendary battle, eh?" Skulduggery turned his head to her. "I'm

sorry?"

"The battle between you and Vengeous, the legendary one. What happened?"

28

"We had a fight."

"But why is it one of the most talked-about battles of the war?"

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe people had nothing else to talk about."

"China said you were badly injured. Is that why you don't like him? Because you were injured?"

"I don't like him because he's evil."

"So it's got nothing to do with him injuring you?"

"It's because he's evil," Skulduggery said grumpily.

They stayed on the motorway for another five minutes, then took the off-ramp. The roads became narrower, and curved between darkened fields and lone houses, and then orange streetlights appeared on either side and they were driving into Haggard.

They reached the pier, and the Bentley stopped.

"Tomorrow's going to be a big day," Valkyrie said.

Skulduggery shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. If we can keep Vengeous out of the country, we've got nothing to worry about."

"And if we can't?"

"Then we have a whole lot to worry about, and

29

I'm going to need you rested and alert."

"Sir, yes sir," she said, raising a mocking eyebrow. She opened the door and got out, and moments later the Bentley's taillights disappeared into the darkness.

Valkyrie stood beside the pier for a moment, watching the dark sea churn at the rocks and play with the small boats moored nearby. She liked watching the sea-- its power made her feel safe.

Back when Valkyrie Cain was known as Stephanie Edgley, she didn't know much about life outside of Haggard. It was a small town, tucked into the east coast of Ireland, and things there were always so quiet and peaceful and so, so
dull.

That all changed when Nefarian Serpine murdered her uncle. Gordon was a best-selling novelist, a writer of horror and fantasy, but he was also a man who knew the Big Secret. He knew about the subculture of sorcerers and mages, about the quiet little wars they had fought. He knew about the Faceless Ones-- the terrible dark gods, exiled from this world-- and the people who wanted them to return.

In the days that followed, she had met the Skeleton Detective and learned that she had a

30

bloodline that could be traced back to the world's first sorcerers, the Ancients. She was also faced with taking a new name. Everyone, Skulduggery had told her, has three names: the name they are born with, the name they are given, and the name they take. The name they are born with, their true name, lies buried deep in their subconscious. The name they are given, usually by their parents, is the only name most people will ever know. But this is a name that can be used against them, so sorcerers must take a third name to protect themselves.

And so Stephanie Edgley became Valkyrie Cain, and she started on the road to becoming an Elemental-- she started to learn magic.

Valkyrie sneaked behind her house, stood directly beneath her window, and concentrated. Until a few weeks ago, she had needed a ladder to climb to her room, but every lesson with Skulduggery gave her more control over her powers.

She took her time, felt the calmness flow through her. She flexed her fingers, feeling the air touch her skin, feeling the fault lines between the spaces. She felt how they connected, and recognized how each would affect the other once the right amount of pressure was applied. . . .

31

She splayed her hands beneath her, and the air rippled and she shot upward, just managing to grab the windowsill. She still missed it occasionally, but she was getting better. She opened the window and, grunting with exertion, pulled herself through. Moving as quietly as she could, she closed the window behind her and turned on the light.

She ignored the girl who sat up in her bed, the girl who was an exact replica of herself. She went to the door, put her ear to it, and listened. Satisfied that her parents were sound asleep, Valkyrie shrugged off her coat as her replica stood up.

"Your arm," it said. "It's bruised."

"Had a little run-in with a bad guy," Valkyrie answered, keeping her voice low. "How was your day?"

"School was okay. I did all the homework, except the last math question. I didn't know how to do that. Your mum made lasagna for dinner."

Valkyrie kicked off her boots. "Nothing strange happened?"

"No. A very normal day."

"Good."

"Are you ready to resume your life?"

"I am."

32

It nodded, went to the full-length mirror and stepped through, then turned and waited. Valkyrie touched the glass, and a day's worth of memory flooded into her mind as the reflection changed, the clothes Valkyrie was wearing appearing on it, and then it was nothing more than a reflected image in a mirror.

She sifted through the new memories, arranging them beside the memories she'd formed on her own. There had been a careers class in school. The teacher had tried to get them to declare what they wanted to be when they left school, or at least what they'd like to study in college. Nobody had any idea, of course. The reflection had stayed quiet too.

Valkyrie thought about this. She didn't really
need
a regular career, after all. She was set to inherit Gordon's estate and all his royalties when she turned eighteen anyway, so she'd never be short of money. Besides, what kind of career would interest her outside of magic?

If she'd been in that class, she knew what she would have answered.
Detective.
That would have garnered a few sniggers around the room, but she wouldn't have minded.

The main difference between her and her

33

friends was not the magic, nor was it the adventure. It was the fact that she knew what she wanted to do with her life, and she was already doing it.

Valkyrie undressed, pulled on her Dublin football jersey, and climbed into bed. Twenty seconds later she was asleep.

Chapter Five

The Terror of London

34

A DARK SHAPE flitted high above the streets of London, moving from rooftop to rooftop, spinning and twisting and cavorting in the air. He wore no shoes, and his footsteps were light, his tread no more than a whisper, snatched away by the night breeze. He sang to himself as he moved, and giggled, a high-pitched giggle. He was dressed in black, with a battered top hat that stayed perched on his misshapen head no matter what acrobatic feat he performed. His suit was torn, old, and musty, and his long-fingered hands were tipped with long, hardened nails.

35

He landed on one leg on the edge of a rooftop and stayed there, his lanky body curled. He looked down onto Charing Cross Road, at the people passing below him, at the cars zipping by. His cracked lips pursed, his small eyes moving, he browsed the selection on offer, making a choice.

"Jack."

He turned quickly to see the young woman walking toward him. Her long coat was closed, and the breeze played with her tousled blond hair, teasing it across her face. And such a pretty face. Jack hadn't seen as pretty a face in many a year. His lips parted, showing the small yellow teeth, and he gave her his best smile.

"Tanith," he said in a voice that was high and strained, in an accent that was a cross between East London and . . . something else, something unknowable. "You're lookin' ravishin'."

"And you're looking revolting."

"You are too kind, I'm sure. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

Tanith Low shook her head. "It's not your neck of the woods any longer, Jack. Things have changed. You shouldn't have come back."

"Where was I gonna go? Old folks' home?