The Dying of the Light (27 page)

Chairs were pushed back and people stood up, and Skulduggery put his hand on Valkyrie’s back and they were the first ones to leave.

She walked with him to the car. Moments later, the Bentley emerged from the brightly-lit car park into the darkness of Roarhaven’s streets.

“Before we go wherever we’re going,” she said, “could we stop by Haggard? I haven’t seen my family in, y’know, ages, and I just want to check in on them and … I just didn’t think I’d ever see them again.”

“Haggard
is
where we’re going,” said Skulduggery. “I would have asked Fletcher to take you, but I wanted to talk to you without anyone else around. How are you?”

Valkyrie put her head back, closing her eyes. “I’m good,” she said. “I’m … good. I probably shouldn’t be. I should be traumatised. When I was Darquesse, I did all these horrible things. I killed people. Murdered them. I can’t blame her for that. It was me.” She turned to look at him. “But now that she’s gone, now that I’m back in control, all those doubts and fears and bad thoughts have just … evaporated. Everything that led me down that path towards giving in, letting her take over … it’s gone. All of it. Isn’t that brilliant?”

“Yes,” Skulduggery said. “It’s brilliant.”

“Then why are you saying it like it so clearly isn’t?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know, I’m not you, am I?” She watched the streets they drove past. “I suppose it might be because you think this is all some kind of repression. I’m not ready to face up to everything I’ve done so I’m pushing all the bad stuff away. Is that it?”

“And if it is?”

“Then I suppose I can only repress it for so long before it all comes crashing down on me.”

“Are you ready for that?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “Were you ready for it when you took off Lord Vile’s armour?”

Skulduggery was silent for a moment. “No,” he said. “And I’m still making up for the things I did.”

“But you had five years of death and destruction. I’ve only had a few weeks.”

“You think the length of time makes any difference? People still died. You’re going to feel exactly how I felt. But you’re stronger than me. You might be able to deal with it better.”

“You know,” Valkyrie said, “for a skeleton, you can be really morose. We used to have great conversations where we’d insult each other the whole time. Can we go back to those, please?”

“Of course,” Skulduggery said. “The moment you tell me what else is wrong.”

Valkyrie’s smile threatened to vanish, but she managed to keep it up. “Trade,” she said. “You tell me how you knew it wasn’t really me, and I’ll tell you what’s wrong.”

Skulduggery shrugged. “Little things. Little movements. Little facial expressions. One big thing.”

“Oh?”

“Darquesse never asked to go home.”

Valkyrie thought about this. “Huh.”

“Now your turn,” Skulduggery said. “What’s wrong?”

She took her time. She chewed her lip. Her stomach flipped and churned. She didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to say it out loud. To say it out loud would be to admit the awful, awful truth.

“When Darquesse was kicked out,” she said, “she took all my bad feelings and my horrible thoughts with her and … and she took something else.”

“What?”

“My magic,” Valkyrie said, looking at him. “She took my magic.”

eing a Monster Hunter sucked.

The main problem was that they spent most of their time searching for monsters to hunt. The Remnants did not want to be found, and Fletcher had lost count of how many small towns they’d checked. They all had divining rods now and, apart from Gracious and Donegan, they all felt astonishingly stupid.

But that still didn’t stop the others from prying into Fletcher’s personal life.

“What’s wrong with you?” Gracious asked as they walked through the darkness. “I thought you’d be delighted to have Valkyrie back.”

“I am,” said Fletcher, doing his best to concentrate on the ridiculous twig in his hands. “Of course I am. We all are.”

“Then why the sour face?”

Donegan glanced back. “That there is the expression of a man torn between two lovers.”

Saracen seemed amused. “Is that true, Fletcher?”

“No,” Fletcher scowled. “I’m going out with Stephanie. That’s all there is to it. I was with Val, but she dumped me for a vampire, of all things, and now I’m with Steph. End of story.”

Gracious passed. “No regrets about that?”

“None,” said Fletcher. “And when did this become a group discussion anyway?”

“We’re Monster Hunters,” said Dai. “We share things.”

“Do you think maybe you hooked up with Stephanie because you couldn’t have Valkyrie?” Saracen asked.

“What? No. God, no.”

“Because it’d make sense.”

“That’s not why I did it.”

“It’s only natural.”

“Saracen, I’m telling you, Steph isn’t a consolation prize, OK?”

Saracen smiled, satisfied. “Good. Good man.”

Vex rejoined them. “What are we talking about?”

“Fletcher is experiencing conflicting emotions over Valkyrie’s return and what it means for his relationship with Stephanie,” Donegan informed him.

“Gotcha,” said Vex.

“It must be weird, though,” said Gracious. “Going out with Stephanie when we all thought Val was gone … that’s one thing. But going out with her now that Val is back … well. That’s weird, isn’t it? Isn’t that weird? It’s going to be weird for Valkyrie.”

Dai nodded. “Going to be very weird for Valkyrie.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Fletcher. “It’d just be like if I were going out with her identical twin sister, if she had one.”

“But even that’s weird,” said Donegan.

“That is weird,” said Gracious.

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Fletcher said. “Val is fine with this. Or she will be.”

Saracen raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know?”

“About me and Steph? Not in so many … no.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Gracious asked. “Or will Stephanie?”

“Can I tell her?” Saracen asked. “I’d love to see her face.”

“I’ll tell her,” Fletcher said, glaring. “I just haven’t had the chance, that’s all. A lot’s been going on, and now we’re back hunting for Remnants and … I just have to wait for the right moment.”

“When you tell her,” said Donegan, “do you think she’ll hit you?”

“No,” Fletcher snapped. “At least I hope not.”

“Buy her something to soften the blow,” Gracious advised. “Here, what should Fletcher buy Valkyrie to soften the blow?”

“Something she can’t throw at him,” said Vex. “Like a kitten. I used to have a kitten, her name was Sabrina, and she used to dig her claws into me whenever she sat on my lap. I wanted to throw her across the room every single time, but I didn’t. Because she was a kitten, and she was cute. So buy her a kitten. Or an ostrich.”

Saracen stopped walking. “OK,” he said. “Something’s wrong here.”

Donegan looked up hopefully. “Is your divining rod buzzing?”

“No, my bloody divining rod isn’t buzzing,” Saracen said, throwing down his twig. “Follow me. And be careful.”

They followed him out to the street. A small child sat in the middle of the empty road, head raised to the night sky. He was singing to himself, his soft voice carrying on the breeze.

“
Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are …
”

“Right,” said Gracious. “Because that’s not creepy at all.”

Wary of an ambush, they walked out till they were standing in a line. Eventually the boy stopped singing, and looked at them. Black veins riddled his smiling face like an insane jigsaw.

“You should run,” the boy said.

“First, you leave that body,” Vex replied. “The body of a child is going to do you no good.”

The boy got to his feet. “Actually, this is probably the best body to have right now. You’re not attacking me, are you? No one wants to hurt a kid.”

“I hate kids,” said Dai.

The boy laughed. “I won’t be in this one for long, don’t worry. I’m just here to deliver this message: you should run.”

“Remnants aren’t usually in the habit of warning people,” said Saracen.

“Things have changed,” said the boy. “My brethren have gone on – most of them anyway. I’ll join them later, once you understand that we’re not the threat you think we are.”

“You’re Remnants,” said Saracen. “You are
exactly
the threat we think you are.”

“Then why haven’t we taken over this town? Why aren’t we killing everyone?”

“Because Darquesse told you to lie low.”

The boy shook his head. “Darquesse doesn’t give us orders any more. She only thinks she does. We’re not going to disobey her, of course – we’re not stupid – but we’re not going to help her, either. We have our own plans now.”

“Where are the others?” Vex asked.

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Things will go better for you if you do.”

“Better for me? Oh, no, no, no. I’ve given you the warnings. It’s your time that’s up, not mine. If you had just turned round and gone home, you could have remained yourselves for the next few days. That would have been something, at least. But now you’re ours.”

“I don’t think so,” said Vex.

The boy smiled. “Oh, it’s already begun.”

Dai cracked his elbow into Vex’s jaw and Vex went down. Saracen spun and Dai slammed a headbutt into his face that sent him staggering against Donegan. Fletcher glimpsed a Remnant darting from the shadows. It latched on to Vex and prised open his mouth.

Gracious knocked Dai off his feet as more Remnants flitted towards them. He grabbed Fletcher’s hand and Fletcher linked up with the others, and in the space of a heartbeat they were back in the Sanctuary. Safe. Secure.

And down two men.

incent Foe liked mortal bars.

There was something refreshingly anonymous about them. He could drink here and not worry about running into someone he’d wronged in the past. And he had wronged a lot of people, it had to be said. Such were the casualties of the war he was waging, a war to take out as many people as possible when he died. It was an unusual war, he freely admitted. In fact, during all his time on this earth, he had met only four other people who shared his dream, and three of those were now in what was commonly referred to as his ‘gang’.

Among the nicer names that people called them, nihilists was one. He didn’t mind that label, though his was a brand of nihilism that neither Kierkegaard nor Nietzsche would ever have truly recognised. He saw himself as a fundamentalist existentialist, harbouring deep-seated psychopathic and genocidal tendencies. All he wanted to do was be responsible for the destruction of the world and everyone in it – himself included.

But until that opportunity presented itself, he was content to sit in mortal bars and ponder the pointlessness of life.

“Vincent Foe.”

He turned his head slightly. The woman who had spoken was small, with wild brown hair.

“I know you?”

“We’ve met.” The woman smiled.

“Sorry. I don’t recognise you.”

“You wouldn’t,” said the woman. “This body is new. Well, new to me. A rental, shall we say? I was recently evicted from the body I’d been using. I found this one and, while it’s not perfect, beggars can’t be choosers.”

The mortals in the bar drank and chatted and paid not one whit of attention to Foe and the woman.

Foe studied her face. She looked sick. She was sweating badly and her eyes were bloodshot.

“And what do you want with me?” he asked carefully.

“If you could possibly tear yourself away from working for China Sorrows, I have a job for you which will probably result in the imminent destruction of the human race.”

Foe narrowed his eyes. “What did you say your name was?”

“I’m the one they’re all scared of,” said the woman. “I am Darquesse. Are you interested?”

Foe didn’t want to appear too eager, so he took his time before shrugging and saying, “Yeah. Maybe. What’ve you got in mind?”

osing Dexter Vex and Dai Maybury to the Remnants was a serious blow. Part of Valkyrie wanted to stay in the Bentley when the call came through, to return to Roarhaven with Skulduggery while all of this was going on, but another part, a stronger part, wanted to be home. She was glad she’d listened to it. The moment she walked through that front door, she felt lighter, better. Happier. And now here she was, raising her eyebrows at her father.