Skulduggery Pleasant: Kingdom of the Wicked (42 page)

Valkyrie sat in the Medical Bay in the brown clothes that swamped her while Reverie patched her up. The Elders stood beside Skulduggery, staring at her as the implications of this sank in. Quintin Strom and Bernard Sult stood to one side with Grim, Strom’s bodyguard, close by.

“And it’s functional?” Ravel asked.

“I didn’t see it in action,” Valkyrie said, “but it’s in one piece and it has a black crystal. Yes, I’d say it’s functional.”

“If we went in there and got it,” said Ghastly, “we would have a weapon capable of stopping Argeddion.”

Valkyrie nodded, and let her gaze linger on Ghastly for a little while. It was nice to see him in one piece.

“But how?” asked Strom. “Silas Nadir is no longer in custody, which means we would need a team of our top operatives to stay within arm’s reach of Valkyrie at all times. And who knows how long it will be before she’s pulled through again? It’s impractical.”

“First things first,” said Ravel. “Valkyrie, where does Mevolent keep the Sceptre?”

“In his throne room.”

Mist shook her head, ever so slightly. “If we do manage to steal it, what then? The Sceptre’s previous owner must be dead before the new owner can use it. Mevolent would have to be killed.”

“Not necessarily,” said Dr Nye, looming over them all. “Forgive me. I couldn’t help overhearing. I do not profess to be an expert on Sceptre lore, but I have a casual understanding of transdimensional physics. More of a hobby than anything else.”

“Get on with it,” Skulduggery said.

Nye cleared its long, skinny throat. “The transportation of any object of power, the Sceptre included, between dimensions, would invariably result in what can only be described as a short circuit. Upon its arrival, the Sceptre’s power would be depleted. All it would need in order to reactivate would be a simple recharge of magic. The result would be a fully operational Sceptre that was ready to imprint upon a new owner.”

“You’re sure about this?” asked Ravel. “You’re sure it would just wipe clean?”

“I’m ninety per cent sure.”

“So there’s a ten per cent chance it won’t work.”

“Yes, but my ten per cent is someone else’s fifty. I assure you, Kenspeckle Grouse would agree with me if he weren’t so amusingly dead.”

Ravel looked at Skulduggery. “It’s your call.”

Skulduggery’s head tilted. “Mine?”

“If anyone is going to be close enough to Valkyrie the next time she shunts, it’ll be you. You might be able to take another few people with you, maybe a few Cleavers, but it could just be the two of you.”

“And if it is, then this is the mission you’re assigning us. To steal the Sceptre of the Ancients from Mevolent, one of the most powerful and evil sorcerers who ever lived.”

Ravel nodded. “I’m afraid so. You’re going to have to improvise. If China’s Resistance survived the attack, enlist their help. Either mount an offensive or sneak into the Palace. Take the cloaking sphere from the Repository and keep it on you. Take whatever else you think you might need. Your primary objective, the both of you, is to retrieve the Sceptre.”

“We have another option, too,” Valkyrie said. “We don’t have to kill Argeddion to stop him. Lament didn’t, thirty years ago. He just used three words that the killer of Walden D’Essai’s mother said to him. What was it he called it? A traumatic phrase from his childhood. It stunned him, giving them the time they needed.”

“And what’s the phrase?” Strom asked.

“We don’t know,” Valkyrie said. “But if we find Walden D’Essai in that other reality, we could ask him.”

“What makes you think he’s even alive over there? And what makes you think you’d be able to find him?”

“Mevolent’s City is thriving. Every piece of progress is reserved for the people inside those walls. Someone like Walden, with the work he does and the mind he has... he’d be in the City. Mevolent wouldn’t let someone like that go.”

Ravel looked at her. “You have a point. OK then, primary objective is to retrieve the Sceptre. Secondary objective is to find Argeddion’s traumatic phrase, in case we can use it to temporarily disable him.”

“Third objective,” she said, “is to get my reflection back.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said Ravel. “Reflections don’t feel pain if they don’t have to, and no Sensitive will be able to read its thoughts. It won’t tell them anything about where it’s from.”

“I’m not worried about what it might
say
, I’m worried about
it
. I don’t want it over there alone.”

“Valkyrie—”

“I don’t want to hear that the reflection is not a real person. I know it isn’t. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it to be safe.”

Ravel looked at Skulduggery for help.

“I’ve given up trying to convince her otherwise,” Skulduggery said. “Her reflection is unique. It’s not like the obvious fakes we’ve seen before.”

“But it’s still not a person,” said Ravel.

“It is to me,” Valkyrie responded.

He sighed. “Fine. Recovering the reflection is your third objective – but only if it doesn’t put you at risk. And in exchange, Valkyrie, we’ll need a Sensitive to build a wall in your mind as soon as possible.”

Valkyrie frowned. “What? Why?”

“We can’t let Argeddion read your thoughts if you encounter him again. The Sceptre must remain secret.”

“Oh, yeah,” Valkyrie said. “Right.”

“We’ll need the best. Luckily, we’d already called her in for any help she might give us on breaking the psychic link between Argeddion and Lament’s group. Let’s leave them to it.”

They dispersed, and standing behind them was a woman with long grey hair and a kind face.

“Hello, Valkyrie,” said Cassandra Pharos. She came forward, gently clasped Valkyrie’s hands between hers. She had a very serene way about her that would have been comforting if Valkyrie’s mind wasn’t suddenly full of images of the dream whisperer she’d burned. “How are you? You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you.”

“Well, a lot’s happened,” Valkyrie said. “You look great.”

“Flattery means little to a woman of my age, my dear. But it still works, so thank you.” Her smile dipped. “Now that I have you, I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Finbar lately?”

Valkyrie shook her head. “I was kind of hoping
you
had.”

“Sadly, no. I’ll be honest, I’m getting worried about him. Being used by the Remnants like that could have... damaged him. Permanently.”

“Maybe he just needs more time. It might even be doing him some good, just living a normal life for a change.”

“Maybe,” Cassandra said, “maybe. But we have more pressing matters to deal with, do we not? You need a wall built in your mind.”

“Apparently so.”

“I don’t want you to worry about this. I won’t be able to read your thoughts while I’m constructing it, and it’s not going to affect you in any way once it’s in. All it does is form a protective shield should anyone try to enter your mind without permission. It’s entirely painless. Just lie back and close your eyes. That’s it. I want you to relax now. Just feel the tension drain from your body...”

They drove back to Haggard through darkness. There was something wrong for the entire journey, and Valkyrie only realised what it was when they pulled up at the pier. She turned to him. “Was there somebody sitting in my seat?”

“Hmm?” he said. “Oh, yes. Elsie O’Brien. Very nice girl. Terrible self-image. She should take lessons from you on confidence. I think you’d do her a lot of good.”

“Never mind all that, Skulduggery. You let her adjust my seat.”

“She’s not as tall as you.”

“But you let her adjust my seat.”

“I did, yes.”

She stared at him.

He hesitated. “I’m really sorry?”

“I’m gone for not even twenty-four hours and you let someone adjust my seat? What, were you looking for a new partner already? Am I that easily replaced?”

“I take back what I said. Elsie shouldn’t talk to you. You’re quite obviously unhinged.”

Valkyrie spent a minute trying to get the seat back to its original position. She sat back in it, frowning. “I don’t even know if this is how I left it. Was I this far back?”

“It looks right.”

“I had this perfect, you know.”

“I’m dreadfully sorry. Next time, Elsie can run alongside me as I drive.”

She folded her arms and sulked.

He patted her shoulder. “I’m sorry I let someone adjust your seat. And I’m really glad you’re back.”

Valkyrie smiled. “See? Was that so hard to say?”

She got out, kicked the tattered boots into the sea, and ran barefoot to her house. She climbed through her window and changed quickly in her room, stuffing the brown clothes under her bed. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked tired. She needed a shower. She reached out slowly and tapped the glass, but nothing happened. Her reflection was merely her reflection.

Tears came to her eyes without warning and she stepped back, muttering, wiping them away. This was not the time to break down, for God’s sake. She took a deep, deep breath, and blew it out. There. Much better. No more tears. All that fragility pushed aside. She put on a happy face, in much the same way that the reflection would have, and skipped lightly down the stairs.

“Hey, Mum,” she called.

Her mother appeared in the kitchen doorway at the same time as her dad popped out of the living room.

“Wow,” she said, jumping back. “You’re like ninjas.”

“Steph,” her mum said, saying the name like it was a sigh of enormous relief. “Where were you?”

There was a leaden weight somewhere in her chest that she ignored. “I told you I’d be at the library after school.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Valkyrie laughed. “Well, OK, I didn’t
tell
you but I wrote it on the note.”

“What note?”

She passed her mum, moving to the fridge. “This note. The one I left... oh. Where’s it gone?”

“I didn’t see any note,” said her mother.

“Me neither,” said her dad.

“Oh,” said Valkyrie, making a show of scanning the floor. “Oh, it must have fallen off. Must be under the cooker or something. And the battery on my phone died.” She turned to them, widening her eyes. “Oh my God, so that means you didn’t know I left this morning before you got up? Oh, I’m so sorry! Were you worried?”

Her mother laughed. “No, no, of course I wasn’t.”

“I was,” said her dad.

Her mum frowned at him. “You just noticed she wasn’t here ten minutes ago.”

“The longest ten minutes of my life.”

“Is that why you went back to reading the paper?”

“I needed something to distract me.”

Valkyrie smiled at them both. “Well, I’m really sorry for any distress I may have caused. I’ll try not to let it happen ever again. But now, Mum, is there any dinner left? I’m starving.”

She ate, looked in on her little sister, and put her black clothes in a pile on the floor beside her before she went to bed. She kept her Necromancer ring on. She lay in the darkness for a few minutes, then reached for her phone. She dialled.

Skulduggery answered immediately. “Are you shunting?”

“No,” she said, “no, everything’s fine. But what if I do shunt again tonight?”

“I considered that,” he answered. “And without wishing to alarm you, I’m in your back garden.”

She laughed. “You’re what?”

“If your arm starts to hurt, open the window for me and we’ll go together.”

“You can’t stand in the garden all night,” she said, and got up, wrapped a sheet round herself and opened the window. A moment later, he was perched on her sill. She went back to bed, and snuggled under the covers. “Come in,” she whispered.

“I’m fine out here.”

“Don’t be dumb. You might be seen.”

He considered it, then climbed through, closing the window behind him. “And what if your parents walk in?”

“Then I’ll tell them I borrowed the skeleton from the school lab and dressed it in a nice suit as a prank.”

“You’re not known for your pranks.”

“Maybe it’s time for that to change.”

He went to the wall opposite the bed, and slid down until he was sitting. With the light off, all she could see was the outline of his hat. “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

She smiled. “No thank you. You can sing me a lullaby if you want.”

And that’s what he did. In a voice so soft it barely reached her through the darkness, he sang her ‘Me and Mrs Jones’
,
and she fell asleep to his voice.

phone beeped quietly and she woke. It was morning. Friday the 30th of April. One day before May 1st, and Greta Dapple’s birthday, and the Summer of Light, when the world would tear itself apart. What a cheery, happy thought to wake up to.