Skulduggery Pleasant: Last Stand of Dead Men (38 page)

“Department X isn’t real,” Skylar said, inching away from him on her knees. “It’s a story. It’s a rumour.”

“Or maybe they’re so well hidden that even sorcerers like you don’t know they exist.”

The pain was really hitting her now. “Maybe,” she said. “Yes, maybe. I can … I can help you. I can—”

His lip curled. “You can do nothing. You would tell me anything I wanted to hear if you thought you could escape. So, if it is not this Department X killing my people, who is it? Who should I be hunting?”

“I … I don’t know. Please, I don’t have anything to do with the Warlocks. I’ve never even met one before.”

Charivari smiled. “Well,” he said, “you have now.”

letcher pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He didn’t like being cold. That was why he’d moved to Australia. But he hadn’t been back there since the war had broken out, which was, what, two months ago now. Myra had kind of ruined it for him.

The car was freezing, but he didn’t ask the driver to turn up the heat. Dai Maybury was from the unfortunate Maybury clan, and he didn’t take kindly to wussy complaints about the cold. From what Fletcher had heard over the past week or so, Dai was one of sextuplets, and the only decent one at that. His brother Deacon, a pretty powerful Sensitive, was a bit of a scumbag, all things considered – but at least he was still living. His other brother Davit had sealed himself in a secret room and promptly run out of air, Dafydd had fallen into a wood-chipper, Daveth had been eaten by rabid goats and Davon had died from intestinal distress.

Fletcher didn’t ask him if he had any sisters.

The road became a trail, then vanished altogether in the grass. Dai stopped the jeep and they got out. The narrow meadow carried on for a kilometre or so, up a gentle incline. At the very top stood a building. They started walking.

“During the war with Mevolent, the Keep was one of our strongest positions,” Dai said. “Dense woodland on either side where we would lay traps and ambushes, and behind us a sheer wall of rock, on top of which we’d lay more traps, more ambushes.”

“So if you were attacked,” Fletcher said, “the enemy would be forced to come up through here.”

Dai nodded. “Their force would swarm in from the road and then immediately be funnelled straight towards us. Back then, our defences were second to none. There were walls, shields, gates, each one heavily manned, and that was before you even reached the Keep itself. They didn’t stand a chance. Take us halfway up.”

Dai laid a hand on Fletcher’s shoulder and they teleported further on up the meadow and kept walking.

“We’d have our best bowmen up there,” Dai said, pointing to a grassy ridge to their left. “They’d take out as many as they could, and right before their position was overrun they’d disappear into tunnels we’d built underground, emerge back at the Keep. Mevolent’s army came at us again and again during the war. Sometimes it would be battalions of sorcerers, men and women filling this meadow. Other times they’d try and sneak through the trees, or come at us from the rock face. They never got close.”

“So the Keep is impenetrable, then,” said Fletcher.

Dai smiled. “It used to be. The war ended, the defences were dismantled, the tunnels were filled in, the walls were taken down. Now all that remains are a few small buildings.”

“How long before the defences can be put back up?”

“They’re not going to be.”

“But the Engineer is here. If Mantis finds out—”

“We’re hoping that it does.”

“So we’re leading them into a trap?”

“More or less.”

The closer they got to the Keep, the more figures Fletcher could see moving about behind the low, broken walls. He smiled. “Let me guess. Hidden up there is our army, right? Mantis comes up, expects an easy victory and then
bam
. We strike.”

Dai put his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder again. “See for yourself.”

They teleported beyond the wall, into the Keep itself, and immediately Fletcher jerked away from a Hollow Man as it shuffled by.

“Relax,” said Dai, laughing, “they’re ours.”

They were everywhere. Paper-skinned, shoulders slumped as their heavy fists swung, their faces had indentations where the eyes and mouth should be. At a distance, they could pass for human, but up close they were a hulking mockery. Fletcher watched one of them snag itself on a rusty nail, tearing its skin. It kept walking as green gas billowed from the tear, deflating itself with every step. It collapsed, emptied, and then the breeze took hold of its skin and tossed it across the ground, where it tangled in the feet of another Hollow Man and was dragged from sight.

Bane and O’Callahan walked up. Gracious was not looking happy.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. “You see what we have to work with? You see the quality of these things?”

“They do seem to be on the cheap side,” Dai conceded.

“Worst quality skin I’ve ever seen on a Hollow Man,” said Gracious. “Where did Ravel get them? No, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to taint myself with knowing the name of the person who made these skins.”

“We just inflated the last of them,” said Donegan. His eyes were rimmed with red and his nose was running. “Foul stuff, that green gas. I got a blast of it, right in the face.”

“He threw up,” Gracious said.

“I did,” Donegan admitted. “And I’m still seeing blurry outlines of everything.”

“Um,” Fletcher said, “can I ask a stupid question?”

“There are no stupid questions,” Gracious said, “just stupid people. Ask away.”

“Well, from what I can see, there are only Hollow Men here, is that right? No sorcerers or Cleavers apart from you guys?”

“That is correct,” said Donegan.

“And if Mantis does find out that the Engineer is here, and if it does come with its army, you don’t really have any defences to … defend yourself with.”

Gracious nodded. “An accurate summation. What part was the stupid question?”

“That’s coming up,” Fletcher said. “If Mantis attacks, you’ve got that rock cliff behind you so there’s nowhere to run, either.”

“Waiting for the stupid question …”

“Well … I mean … If they come, you can’t fight and you can’t run. You’ll be trapped.”

Gracious looked at him. “That wasn’t even a question.”

“You’re quite right,” Dai said. “When Mantis attacks, we’ll be overwhelmed. The Keep will be surrounded, and they’ll breach our pathetic wall with laughable ease. At which point they’ll realise that all these people they’ve seen moving around are, in actual fact, really cheap Hollow Men.”

“By which time,” said Donegan, “Gracious, Dai and I will have run back to Nye and Clarabelle and the Engineer, and we’ll call for you. Then you come, and you teleport us to safety.”

“But what’s the point?” Fletcher asked. “Why lure them here in the first place if … oh.”

Gracious smiled. “Look. He’s getting it.”

“So they’ll be here,” Fletcher said, “in this terrible position with no defences and no escape, and they’ll turn round …”

“And realise that the Dead Men have moved into the valley behind them,” said Donegan, “and they have an army with them.”

Fletcher grinned. “That’s pretty smart.”

“That’s why they’re called tactics,” said Gracious, “and not …”

The others looked at him. Gracious just shrugged. “Fletcher, you want to go talk to a robot?”

Fletcher grinned. “Sure.”

Gracious led him into the Keep, the inside of which was not quite as disappointing as the outside. The walls held up the ceiling. The floors held up the walls. It was a good system.

The only room that had anything in it looked like a mad scientist’s garden shed. It was small, cramped, and full of beeping machines and wires running everywhere. Doctor Nye had to almost bend double to move. Clarabelle waved as Fletcher walked in. She stood beside a six-foot robot.

Its metal surface was battered, and deep scratches ran over the magical symbols soldered on to its sculpted torso. It was also not exactly
here
. There were small gaps in its body, like a jigsaw missing some of its pieces that somehow managed to stay together. Within those gaps there was a blue glow, which turned white the more Fletcher stared. Its head was smooth, and had a smiley face scrawled over it.

“That is so cool,” said Fletcher.

Gracious was practically giggling with excitement.

Nye looked round, looked back at the Engineer, and sighed. “Clarabelle,” it said, “did you draw a smiley face on the robot?”

Clarabelle furrowed her brow, like she was searching for the perfect lie. Then she brightened, and said, “No.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, Doctor.”

“Do you know who did?”

“I think it was one of the Hollow Men.”

“I think you’re lying.”

She sagged. “It just looked sad, standing there without a face. Now it looks happy.”

“It looks ridiculous.”

She brightened. “Ridiculously happy?”

“No,” said Nye, “just ridiculous. Mr Renn, aren’t you going to say hello to our mechanical guest?”

Fletcher peered closer. “Is it working?”

Gracious nudged him. “Ask
it
that.”

Fletcher cleared his throat, and stepped towards the robot. “Excuse me,” he said, “are you operational?”

The Engineer turned its head towards him. “I am,” it said, its voice undoubtedly robotic but surprisingly warm. “I was reactivated forty-three minutes ago. My available systems are back online.”

Fletcher looked round to Gracious. “Do Skulduggery and the others know about this?”

Gracious nodded. “They’ve asked me to get all the information we need. Engineer, are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“Yes I am, Mr O’Callahan.”

“The Accelerator,” Gracious said, “can it be shut down?”

“Yes. In doing so, a locking mechanism will seal it from use. Once deactivated, only I can activate it again.”

“Would you have any objection to shutting it down?”

“Not at all. That is my purpose. In the event of the Accelerator’s activation, I am to facilitate its deactivation before it is too late.”

“Well, OK then,” said Gracious, smiling broadly. Then he frowned. “Wait, before it’s too late to do what?”

“The Accelerator’s power is on a constant loop,” said the Engineer. “With every loop, the power builds, and the stronger the link to the source of all magic becomes. Eventually the Accelerator will overload, delivering a boost to every magical being around the world.”

“A boost,” said Gracious cautiously. “Like the boost it gave to Kitana Kellaway and her friends?”

“I’m afraid not. Their power was merely tripled, and while my creator could not calculate this accurately, he estimated that an uncontrolled overload would result in a boost to between ten and twenty times a sorcerer’s current level.”

Nye looked around, its small eyes widening. “But a boost that big would drive all sorcerers
insane
.”

“My creator believed this was a possibility, yes.”

“So the Accelerator is a … a time bomb,” said Gracious. “A doomsday device.”

“Not intentionally,” said the Engineer. “A nuclear reactor has carbon rods that can shut down the fission reaction at any moment, preventing a catastrophic meltdown. You may think of me like those carbon rods. I am what prevents the Accelerator from being a bomb.”

“Except you didn’t,” said Gracious. “Because you weren’t around.”

“I got bored.”

“You’re a machine.”

“Machines can become bored, too.”

Gracious looked suddenly concerned. “My toaster is bored?”

“Perhaps,” said the Engineer. “I do not know many toasters. My cognitive functions are perhaps a little too sophisticated for my own good. But I can still switch off the Accelerator before it reaches catastrophic levels, if you take me to it.”

Gracious let out a sigh of relief. “See that? There’s a threat, and now it’s averted. That, I think, qualifies as a victory for the good guys.” He turned to Fletcher, held up his hand. “High five!”

Fletcher looked at him. “Really?”

“Don’t leave me hanging, man.”

Fletcher gave him a high five. It really hurt.

“Mr Engineer,” Gracious said, “would you be so kind as to accompany us back to the Sanctuary and deactivate the Accelerator?”