The Dying of the Light (31 page)

Stephanie’s phone rang and rang, and just when Valkyrie was about to hang up, it was answered.

“Valkyrie.”

Valkyrie frowned. “Hey. What are you doing answering Stephanie’s phone?”

“Come down to the Accelerator Room,” Skulduggery said. “Is Fletcher with you?”

“Yes.”

“Bring him.”

He hung up.

Fletcher waited for an explanation. Instead, Valkyrie took hold of his arm. “The Accelerator Room,” she said.

He shrugged. When his shoulders lifted, they were in the middle of another brightly-lit corridor in the new Sanctuary. When they fell, they were standing beside the Accelerator.

The Engineer stood in the doorway, looking out. It turned. “Terribly sad,” it said.

Valkyrie’s frown deepened. She hurried past the robot. There was a group of people in the corridor outside, huddled round someone who’d collapsed. With Fletcher behind her, they approached, just as Reverie Synecdoche crouched down over the still body.

Valkyrie froze. Fletcher bumped into her. He was about to apologise when he saw what she was looking at – when he saw the burnished red trousers, the dark hair. The blood on the face. The grave expression worn by Synecdoche.

“Stephanie?” he said.

Skulduggery looked up, saw them. “Out,” he said to the other people crowding around. “Everyone I didn’t personally ask for, leave immediately.”

There was a hesitation, and then the crowd dispersed, saving their murmurings for when they were upstairs. Valkyrie and Fletcher stayed where they were, staring.

On the ground behind Synecdoche was another body – a big man who looked like he’d also sustained a lot of damage. Obloquy.

Fletcher walked forward. He looked unsteady. “Is she OK?” he asked, like he hadn’t any breath left in his body.

“I’m sorry,” said Synecdoche. “There’s nothing we could do.”

Fletcher stayed very still, then suddenly fell sideways, hit the wall with his shoulder, slid to the floor. He never took his eyes off his girlfriend. “We were here,” he whispered. “We were just here. Talking.”

“He must have attacked her immediately after you left,” Synecdoche said.

Stephanie’s face had a look of terror etched on to it that was making Valkyrie feel sick. She’d put up a fight. A hell of a fight. It hadn’t been enough.

“Obloquy,” Valkyrie said. Speaking felt oddly clumsy. Her face felt numb. “He’s a Sensitive.”

Skulduggery nodded. “Darquesse possessed him. He’s dead, too. His body is burnt out, just like the mortal woman this morning.”

Synecdoche’s hand began to glow, and she passed it over Stephanie’s body. “Strangulation,” she muttered, almost to herself. “Broken arm. Broken jaw. But asphyxiation is the probable cause of death.” She moved Stephanie’s body, ever so slightly, and a cloaking sphere rolled out from underneath.

It came to a stop against the wall. It
nokked
slightly.

“Oh, God,” said Fletcher when he saw it. “She was here. She was being killed and we couldn’t see her.” He stood up, looked at Valkyrie. “You think she heard? You think she heard what we were saying?”

“I … I don’t know,” said Valkyrie.

Fletcher covered his face with his hands. Valkyrie went to comfort him, but he jerked away, and when she stepped towards him he vanished.

She looked back at Stephanie’s body, tears spilling on to her cheeks. Skulduggery walked over, and he pulled her gently into him and hugged her, and she let herself cry.

kulduggery was barking orders and issuing commands and people were doing things with determination, with urgency, and all Valkyrie could do was stand there and be numb. Eventually she walked away, went wandering through the Sanctuary, found herself in the Dining Hall. She hadn’t eaten in hours. She got a plate of food, sat at a table by herself, and realised she wasn’t hungry. She pushed the plate to one side and rested her head on her arms.

The numb feeling didn’t go away.

“I heard about your reflection.”

Valkyrie raised her head and wiped her eyes. Solomon Wreath sat opposite her, laying his cane before him on the table and folding his hands over it. Wearing black, as usual. Being handsome, as usual. Looking concerned. Which was new.

“She was more than just a reflection,” Valkyrie said.

He nodded. “So I heard. You have my condolences.”

Valkyrie sniffed. “You’re a Necromancer. Should you really be consoling me when someone dies? Isn’t that against your rules?”

“Consoling someone has nothing to do with the person who has passed on, and everything to do with the people left behind.”

“Remind me again what happens when we die?”

Wreath smiled. “In my religion? We re-enter the Great Stream of life and death. Stephanie will be unique, though. You and I, we would just flow back to where we came from. But from what I’ve heard, your reflection became whole, attained actual life, and as such she would probably be the only person to actually
add
to the stream, instead of merely replenishing it.”

“Well, that’s Stephanie,” Valkyrie muttered. “Always has to be the awkward one.”

“Has there been any sign as to where Darquesse is now?”

She shook her head. “Scuttled back into the shadows. Anyone with any psychic talents is being watched. If we keep denying her vessels, maybe we’ll starve her out of it. God, I don’t know. I’m too tired to think about all this. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I decided to pay you a visit when I heard you’d fallen prey to your darker nature.”

“That was weeks ago.”

“I was a little tied up. But I get back, finally, and you have it sorted without me. Almost.”

“Yeah, almost.”

“I notice you’re not wearing your ring,” he said. “Is that it, then? When your Surge comes, you’ve decided on Elemental magic?”

Valkyrie hesitated. “It’s … more complicated than that. I lost my ring. Right now all my Necromancer powers are in a dinky little amulet … not that I can access them.”

“The amulet has been taken from you?”

“My magic has been taken from me.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“Darquesse
is
my magic,” she said in a quiet voice. “When we separated, she took it all, left me with nothing.”

Wreath sat back, staring at her. “I’ve … never heard of anything like that ever happening.”

Valkyrie offered up a half-smile. “Yep. I’m unique.”

“No magic
at all
?”

“Not a peep.”

“How distressing.”

“I’m pretty distressed, all right.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I thought my life was going to be magic and monsters and fighting and … whatever. But if I don’t have magic, then …”

“Does that mean a mortal life?” Wreath asked. She could have sworn he had paled slightly.

“It might.” Over his shoulder, she saw Skulduggery walk in. “Oh, hell,” she muttered.

Wreath’s smile reappeared. “It’s Skulduggery, isn’t it?”

“Please don’t annoy him.”

“Me? When have I
ever
annoyed the great Skulduggery Pleasant?”

Skulduggery arrived at their table. Wreath smiled up at him. “Hello.”

“I will shoot you in the eye,” Skulduggery said.

Wreath glanced at Valkyrie. “I think I’ve annoyed him.”

“What are you doing here, Wreath? How the hell did you get in the front door?”

“The Cleavers love me,” Wreath said. “I told a few jokes, we had a few laughs, they invited me in. Also, I shadow-walked past them. I’m sure they won’t mind, though.”

Skulduggery motioned to someone behind Valkyrie. “And I’m sure you won’t mind if I assign one of them to stick by your side while you’re here.”

“Not at all,” said Wreath. “I love making new friends.”

A Cleaver came over and Skulduggery nodded to Wreath and said, “Don’t let him leave your sight. Valkyrie, if I may?”

She got up, followed him to a quiet corner. “We were just talking,” she said.

“Wreath doesn’t bother me,” he responded. “I need you to go home. In all the confusion, we’ve let something very important slip our minds. You need to go home and claim the Sceptre.”

“Me?” she asked, frowning. “No, you should be the one to control it. I don’t even have any magic any more.”

“That won’t stop the Sceptre from binding itself to you.”

“No, I mean, I don’t have any magic, so what use am I to you, long term?”

He tilted his head. “Meaning what? You’re thinking of walking away?”

“I don’t … I don’t know. I don’t want to. I want to … I want to do this for the rest of my life. But without magic, I’ll just be a hindrance.”

Skulduggery folded his arms, and tapped one gloved finger against his chin. “Hmm.”

“You see?”

“I think so.”

Tears came to her eyes again. “So … you agree? I mean, you think I should … stop? With Stephanie gone, I could just go home and be normal and … You think I should do that?”

He sighed. “If you think it’s best.”

She went cold inside. “Really?”

He reached out, and flicked a finger against her forehead. “Don’t be such an idiot.”

“
Ow.
”

“Go home, claim the Sceptre. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“That
hurt.
”

“Good.”

He turned.

“I just hope I can find it,” she muttered.

He turned back, and looked at her for a long moment. “I’m sorry?”

“Stephanie hid it. We were arguing and … anyway, she hid it. It’s not down a well, or anything. I mean, she didn’t bury it. It’s still in the house, somewhere. She was so set on giving it all up and having a normal … a normal …”

“Life,” said Skulduggery.

“Yes.” Valkyrie’s throat felt very tight all of a sudden.

“Well,” said Skulduggery, “you’d better look for it, hadn’t you?”

Valkyrie nodded, but hesitated before walking away. “If you hear anything about where Darquesse has gone …”

He nodded to her. “I’ll call you immediately. Now for God’s sake, go home.”

When she was done with everywhere else, she searched Alice’s room. She ransacked every millimetre of the wardrobe, she checked under the changing table, she rooted through the big box of toys in the corner. She was about to leave when she glanced at the cot.

Stephanie wouldn’t have put it anywhere near the cot. The risk of Alice accidentally touching the black crystal would be far too great. Never in a million years would Stephanie have put her –
their
– little sister in danger like that. But …

But Alice wouldn’t have been in danger. Alice was an Edgley, the same as Valkyrie. She would be able to survive direct contact with the crystal. And the cot … who would think to search a baby’s cot for the most powerful weapon in existence?

Valkyrie lifted the cot, checked underneath, then stood and lifted the blankets. The mattress bulged slightly. She took it up. The backpack containing the Sceptre was jammed down between the gaps. It was half open.

She yanked the bag free, pulled the Sceptre out, held it tightly. The ownership of the Sceptre should have passed to her upon contact. But she had a cold feeling in her belly. She looked around for something to disintegrate. Finally, she opened the window, pointed the Sceptre into the clouds and tried to fire.

Nothing happened.

It hadn’t bonded to her. Meaning it had already bonded to someone else.

Valkyrie sank down on to her haunches and closed her eyes. “Oh, Alice …”

he nightmare was vivid. Valkyrie woke with her heart thumping, her hands gripping the sheets. She lay very still, until she was sure it was just a dream. After a moment, tears came to her eyes, and she started crying.

Then her phone rang, and she cleared her throat and answered.

“Stephanie’s body is gone.”

Valkyrie sat up, her eyes wide and her bad dream forgotten. “
What?
”

“Doctor Synecdoche was found unconscious an hour ago,” Skulduggery said. It sounded like he was walking. “She identified Vincent Foe as one of the people who assaulted her when she was checking the body into the morgue. That was at three o’clock this morning.”