The Dying of the Light (53 page)

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Authors: Derek Landy

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Humorous Stories

BOOK: The Dying of the Light
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“If you’re trying to provoke me, it won’t work,” Skulduggery said.

“These are not my words,” said the Inquisitor. “These are the words being whispered into my ear.”

“Who’s doing the whispering?”

Now there was amusement in the Inquisitor’s voice. “Ones who know you. Ones who are aware of you. Ones you would not wish to be aware of you.”

“Any of them got such a thing as a name?”

“You and your kind rely so much on names,” said the Inquisitor. “But there are those who do not.”

“Fantastic,” Skulduggery said. “Can we please get to the point before—”

“Your wife and child,” said the Inquisitor.

Skulduggery stopped. “What?”

“They whisper to me also. They are here, in this city. Waiting for you.”

“They’re dead.”

“And is this not the City of the Dead?”

“They’ve been dead hundreds of years,” said Skulduggery. “They’re gone. They’re not here. No part of them is here. You’re lying. Why?”

“If you believe that I am lying, you can pass on and I will not stop you.”

“What about the test?”

“This is the test.”

Skulduggery didn’t move for a few seconds. Fletcher glanced at Wreath. The Necromancer had a slight frown on his face.

Skulduggery walked by the Inquisitor, and the Inquisitor stepped into the shadows and vanished.

“That was easy,” said Fletcher.

“So it would seem,” said Wreath.

Fletcher frowned. “It was too easy, wasn’t it?”

Wreath nodded. “So it would seem.”

64
CHASING ALICE

alkyrie’s mum helped her dress.

“Get Fletcher,” her dad said, his eyes frantic. “He appears and disappears, doesn’t he? He’ll take us right to Alice.”

“Fletch teleports to places, not to people,” Valkyrie said while her mum guided her right foot into its boot. Her ankle was sore, but at least she could walk on it. The rest of her ached. Her ribs, her face, her jaw. Her left hand was already swelling up to twice its normal size. The pain would have been excruciating were it not for the leaves she chewed.

Her mother pulled the cuffs of Valkyrie’s trousers down over her boots, and Valkyrie stood up from the bed. Hissing, she slipped her left arm through the sleeve of her jacket, and her mum helped her with the right, then zipped her up.

“We’re coming with you,” her mum said. She’d been quiet since Valkyrie had stumbled back into the house. Now Valkyrie knew why.

“No,” Valkyrie said, limping out of the room. “This is dangerous. You have to stay here.”

“Alice is our daughter and we’re coming with you,” her mum said.

Valkyrie got to the bathroom, grabbed a wet cloth and cleaned the blood from her face. Wiped her eyes, too. “Dai will kill you.”

“I thought Dai was one of the good guys,” said her dad.

“He is,” said Valkyrie. “He’s got a Remnant inside him. He isn’t himself.” She dropped the cloth, turned to them. “Dad, please say you understand why neither of you can come. I’m going after Alice. I know this world and I know these people and I’m used to things like this.”

“We’re wasting time,” said her mum.

Valkyrie looked at her parents, realised there was no way she was going to win this argument, and her mother was right. Dai already had a five-minute head start on them.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m driving.”

“I’m driving,” her dad corrected, already heading downstairs. “You’re injured and your car is slow and you’re not a very good driver.”

Valkyrie limped quickly after him. “I’m a very good driver.”

He grabbed his keys from the hall table and stood at the door impatiently. “Not at the speed we’re going to be travelling at.”

There were two roads out of Haggard – one going south, one going north. They took the one going south, and the old familiar countryside whipped by at a worrying rate. Going over the slight hills, the car actually left the road a few times, sending a wave of weightlessness churning through Valkyrie’s belly. Melissa Edgley, in the passenger seat, held on tight, but didn’t caution her husband to slow down.

Valkyrie’s dad swerved round a tractor on a tight bend. Not even that elicited a complaint. Valkyrie realised her parents had become missiles, locked on to their target, unmindful of anything else.

For a curious moment she felt like she was a kid again, strapped into the back seat of the car while she took a drive with her folks. Maybe they were going to the cinema, or the zoo, or maybe to her uncle’s house. Wherever they were going she was safe, because she was with her mum and dad, and nothing bad ever happened when she was with her mum and dad.

The pain from her hand brought her back to the present. Her fingers were now a deep, ugly purple that ran past her knuckles to the back of her hand. She could move her thumb, and her pinkie, but the others were useless. Every time the car took a turn, every time Valkyrie swayed in her seat, the pain stabbed at her despite the leaves that had left their usual bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

“Where do we go?” her dad asked, his voice tight.

Valkyrie looked up. Around the next few bends there was a straight stretch of road, and at the end of that was a junction. They could go right, towards Balbriggan, or straight, into Lusk, or left, towards Dublin.

“Left,” she said.

“Where’s he taking her?” her mum asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

“Thurles,” Valkyrie said. “That’s where the other Remnants are. There’s where Dexter Vex is.” She didn’t say why they wanted her baby sister. She didn’t mention the Sceptre or the fact that in order for Vex to be able to use the Sceptre, he’d have to kill Alice. “She’ll be fine,” she said instead. “Dexter won’t hurt her. He’ll just use her to lure me in.”

They got to the straight stretch of road. There was a line of slow-moving cars ahead of them, puttering lazily along. Valkyrie’s dad beeped his horn and flashed his lights at oncoming traffic, warning them that he was about to do something stupid. Then he swerved into the middle of the road, overtaking everything in his path while other cars turned sharply to avoid a collision. He clipped a wing mirror and got a blast of a horn in response, but they’d already reached the junction. The car drifted a little as it made the turn.

Valkyrie’s phone was in her left pocket. She reached across with her good hand, lifting her hips to allow her fingers access. She lost her grip, tried again, managed to pull it out slightly, like a turtle emerging from its shell. She lifted her hips again, got a firmer grip, pulled it out. Immediately, she dialled Skulduggery’s number.

It went straight to voicemail. As she feared it would.

“Skulduggery’s not answering,” she said.

“You’ve got other friends,” said Melissa. “Call them. Call the girl with the sword. Call all the magic people.”

She couldn’t. If it got out, that Alice was bonded to the Sceptre and the Sceptre was up for grabs, then her sister would never be safe again.

“Roarhaven’s in lockdown,” she said. “No calls in or out. But I don’t need them. I can get Alice back myself.”

“With our help,” her dad said.

Valkyrie said nothing.

The day was pulling the brightness from the sky and by the time they reached Thurles it was beginning to get legitimately dark. The streets were quiet. Empty. No cars passed them. No one was out walking.

Valkyrie’s dad slowed their car to a crawl. “I don’t like this,” he said. “It feels like a trap.”

“How would you know what a trap feels like?” her mum said.

“I just know. Steph?”

Valkyrie nodded. “It feels like a trap. Pull over somewhere. I’ll look around and come back.”

“No chance,” her mum said, turning in her seat. “We all go.”

“And what will you do if there’s trouble? These people will be trying to kill us.”

“Then I’ll fight,” said her mum. “Anyone comes after me, I’ll kick them between the legs.”

Valkyrie sighed. “Mum …”

“I’m not staying behind, Steph. I’ve made my decision.”

“Fine,” Valkyrie said, biting back her frustration. She looked to the residential street ahead. After a few seconds, her scowl softened. “But don’t kick them there.”

“Why not? Isn’t that the best place to kick them? Des, you don’t like being kicked there, do you?”

He frowned. “I don’t like being kicked anywhere.”

“First of all,” Valkyrie said, “kicking anyone is a bad idea when you’re in danger. You’re panicking, you’ve got adrenaline shooting through you, you’ve got all these new instincts screaming at you. Your body wants to flee or fight – it needs to make itself lighter, so it wants to empty its bowels and its bladder. You’re going to want to pee yourself. That’s perfectly normal. But your legs are jelly. You’re suddenly trembling so much your teeth are chattering. You really want to kick someone when you don’t even know if your other leg will support you?”

“I suppose not,” her mother said, frowning.

“And if you do kick, there’s no guarantee you’re going to hit what you’re aiming for. And if you do hit what you’re aiming for, the pain could take seconds to travel to his brain. He can do an awful lot of damage in those few seconds. Then there’s also the risk that kicking him there will just make him mad.”

“OK,” her mum said, “fine, I won’t kick them between the legs. But … is there anywhere I can hit them? I don’t think I’d be able to punch very hard, and if they’re all as strong as Dai Maybury was …”

“You can’t build muscle on your throat,” said Valkyrie. “The throat’s vulnerable. And I don’t care how many push-ups you can do, your eyelids aren’t going to get any tougher. Everyone has eyes. Well, almost everyone.”

“Throats and eyes,” said her mum. “OK. That sounds straightforward enough.”

Her dad pulled over. They got out. Valkyrie winced with every movement, but she limped to a small tree in someone’s front garden and pulled three long twigs from it. She kept one for herself and gave the others to her parents.

“Hold these with your thumb pressed against it,” she said. “Like this.”

“Will this ward the Remnants off?” her mum asked.

Valkyrie shook her head. “We don’t have anything to fight them with. Look, Remnants are little shadowy creatures that fly around and when they possess you, when they’re inside, it’s instantaneous. One moment you’re you, the next you’re not.”

“How do they get inside?”

“They attach themselves to your face and force their way down your throat.”

Her dad clamped his hand over his mouth.

“That won’t do a whole lot of good, Dad. The point is, if we’re spotted, a Remnant could possess one of us in a matter of seconds and the rest of us wouldn’t know it. So, if you see one, you break the twig, OK? Just press your thumb down and the twig will snap. An unbroken twig means we’re all who we say we are. A broken twig means one of us isn’t.”

Her mum suddenly hunkered down. “Oh, I don’t feel well. My legs are weak. They’re all wobbly.”

“Then stay in the car,” Valkyrie said.

“No, no. It’s just nerves. It’ll pass. Look.” She forced herself to stand. She was so pale.

“Mum, I know you want to help, but if you’re not ready for this you’re going to be a hindrance.”

“I won’t be,” her mum said. “My daughters need me. Lead on, Steph.”

Reluctantly, Valkyrie started forward.

Their progress through the town was slow. They darted, as best they could, from cover to cover, but all too often they had to cross a lot of open ground without anything to hide behind. Thankfully, there was no one around to see them and raise the alarm, but the closer they got to the town centre, the warier Valkyrie became. She stopped at a corner, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. There. A woman holding a crowbar, standing with her back to Valkyrie. A sentry.

Valkyrie put her finger to her lips and motioned for her parents to crouch down, then she passed her twig to her dad and left them there. She moved silently. The woman tucked the crowbar under one arm and blew into her hands a few times to keep them warm, allowing Valkyrie to sneak up right behind her.

The shock stick was fully charged and ready to go, but she left it where it was. There was no telling when it might come in useful.

She waited until the woman had dropped her hands back down, then she wrapped her right arm round her throat. The sleeper hold came on at once and the woman jerked back, the crowbar falling, her fingers digging into Valkyrie’s armoured sleeve. Valkyrie squeezed. Her broken hand sent white-hot daggers straight into her brain.

The woman powered backwards, slamming them both into the wall. Valkyrie banged her head, but didn’t let go. The woman’s Remnant-augmented strength was astonishing. She tried flipping Valkyrie over her shoulder, but Valkyrie wrapped her legs round her slim waist. They fell, the woman scrambling, panicking, but all she did was allow Valkyrie to adjust her position, to bend her knee round her foot. After a few more seconds, the woman went limp, and Valkyrie released her.

Her parents hurried up as Valkyrie got to her feet. Her dad handed her back her twig.

“That was so cool,” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered, trying not to cry with the pain. “I know.”

They hurried on, passing another two sentries whom they left oblivious behind them. The streets became broader, more open. Valkyrie found herself wasting more and more time trying to figure out ways to progress undetected. They doubled back twice, tried a different route.

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