Kitabı oku: «Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12», sayfa 14
26
THE LAST STAND OF…
achan Meritorious waited in the shadow of Dublin’s Christ Church Cathedral, watching the world go about its business. There were times when he felt guilty about hiding magic from the masses, when he felt sure that they would embrace the wonder and the beauty if only they were given the opportunity. But then he’d come to his senses, and realise that humankind had enough things to be worrying about without a subculture that they might see as a threat to their very validity. As an Elder, it was his job to protect the outside world from truths they weren’t yet ready to know.
Morwenna Crow walked up, her dark robes flowing over the grass. She was as clean and as elegant as the day he had first met her.
“It’s not like Skulduggery Pleasant to be late,” she remarked.
“Sagacious said he sounded urgent,” Meritorious said. “He may have run into some difficulty.”
Morwenna looked around the corner of the cathedral, to the busy street beyond the railing. The bright lights, amber and yellow, framed her face. She seemed almost angelic. “I don’t like meeting out in the open like this. We’re too exposed. He should know better.”
“Skulduggery picked this place for a reason,” Meritorious said gently. “I trust his judgement. He’s earned that much at least.”
They turned as Sagacious Tome appeared beside them, fading up from nothing.
“Sagacious,” Morwenna said, “did Skulduggery say why he wanted to meet us here?”
Sagacious looked nervous as the materialisation completed and he became solid. “I’m sorry, Morwenna, he just told me to make sure both of you were outside the cathedral.”
“This had better be good,” she said. “We don’t have a lot of time to spare these days. Serpine could strike anywhere, at any time.”
Meritorious watched Sagacious smile sadly. “That’s very true,” Sagacious said. “And if I may, I just want to take this opportunity to let you both know, in the times when we were friends, they were great times indeed.”
Morwenna laughed. “We’re not dead yet, Sagacious.”
And then he looked at her and the smile turned to something else. “Actually, Morwenna, you are.”
The Hollow Men converged and Sagacious faded to nothing. Meritorious didn’t even have time to register the betrayal before he saw Serpine, striding towards them, holding the Sceptre. He instinctively conjured a protective shield that made the air glimmer, but when the crystal flashed the black lightning came right through the shield like it wasn’t even there and then there was—
Nothing.
*
The Administrator charged through a crowd outside the Olympia Theatre, drawing a chorus of angry shouts and curses. He stumbled but managed to stay up, managed to keep running. He glanced behind.
He couldn’t see anyone pursuing him. He didn’t think he had been seen, but he couldn’t be sure. He had been standing by the car when Nefarian Serpine had appeared. He had seen Meritorious explode into dust and ash, saw the black lightning strike Morwenna Crow as she tried to rush her enemies.
He had ducked down, terrified. Tome betrayed them. Tome betrayed them all. The Administrator had abandoned the car and started running.
He had to get back to the Sanctuary. He had to warn the others.
27
NO CALM BEFORE THE STORM
kulduggery had given her money and Stephanie had gone in to pay while he refilled the Bentley’s tank. As she waited for her change she looked at the chocolate bars on display and tried remembering the last time she’d eaten chocolate. She always ate chocolate when something bad happened, but these days chocolate just wasn’t enough.
Everything was going wrong. Tanith was injured, Ghastly was nothing more than a statue and now they had the White Cleaver to worry about. It was getting to the point where Stephanie didn’t know why they were bothering to fight any more, although she’d never say that to Skulduggery. He seemed to think she was like him – never give up, never surrender. But she wasn’t. The only reason she didn’t tell him this was because she liked the way he thought of her, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. But the truth was, the Valkyrie Cain he thought he knew was a lot stronger than Stephanie Edgley could ever be.
She walked back outside. Skulduggery was slotting the petrol nozzle back into the pump. Tanith had gone to soak her hand in the same healing mixture she had given Stephanie.
Now that they were alone, Stephanie didn’t quite know what to say. Skulduggery screwed the petrol cap shut and stood there, perfectly still. With his hat on and his scarf hiding his jaw, it could have been a mannequin standing there for all the difference it made.
“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said. He looked at her.
“If it wasn’t for me, Ghastly would be… he’d be with us. It’s my fault he had to use the earth power.” She fought to keep her voice from trembling. “How long will he stay like that, do you think?”
Skulduggery took a moment. “I sincerely don’t know, Valkyrie. It’s the most unpredictable power we have. He could be stuck as a statue for a day, a week, or a hundred years. There’s no way of knowing.”
“I’ve ruined everything.”
“No—”
“That Cleaver was after me. Ghastly was forced to—”
“Ghastly wasn’t forced to do anything,” Skulduggery interrupted. “It was his choice. And it wasn’t your fault. Serpine sent his assassin after you to hurt me. It’s what he does.”
“He sent him after me because he knew I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. He knows you’re looking after me, he knows I’m your weak spot.”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “Looking after you? Is that how you see this? You think I’m babysitting you?”
“Well aren’t you? I’ve got no magic; I can’t fight; I can’t throw fire or run on ceilings. What use am I to you? I’m weak.”
Skulduggery shook his head. “No, you’re not. You haven’t trained in magic or combat, but you’re not weak. Serpine underestimates you. Everyone underestimates you. You’re stronger than they know. You’re stronger than you know.”
“I wish you were right.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m me.”
Stephanie heard a phone ring as Tanith walked into the light of the forecourt. She had wrapped a bandage around her wrist. The magical properties of the healing mixture would already be working to reduce the swelling and mend the damage. Tanith held her phone to her ear. Stephanie didn’t like the way her face seemed to slacken as she listened to whatever was being said.
She hung up without replying. “Skulduggery,” she said softly. “You have your phone on?”
“Battery’s low,” he said.
“They’ve been trying to contact you. The Administrator, the Sanctuary.”
“What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked.
“The Elders,” Tanith said, her voice empty. “Sagacious Tome betrayed them. The Elders are dead.”
Stephanie’s hand was at her mouth. “Oh, God.”
“Tome’s been working with Serpine all along. He’s a traitor. Like Mr Bliss. They’re all traitors. Skulduggery, what are we going to do?”
Stephanie looked to him, praying that he’d come up with a great new plan, a scheme to ensure victory and a happy ending. He didn’t answer.
“Did you hear me?” Tanith continued, the emptiness in her voice giving way to sudden anger. “Are you even listening? Do you even care? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you want to die again; maybe you want to join your wife and child, but hey! We don’t want to die, OK? I don’t. Valkyrie doesn’t.”
Skulduggery stood there. A mannequin. Silent.
“Do you think we stand a chance against Serpine?” Tanith asked. “Tome? Bliss? That Cleaver? Do you really think we stand a chance against all of them?”
“What do you suggest we do?” Skulduggery said, his voice slow and steady. “Stand back and let Serpine grow stronger? Stand back and let him recruit more allies, let him open the door and let the Faceless Ones come through?”
“He’s winning, OK? Serpine is winning this war!”
“No such thing.”
“What?”
“There’s no such thing as winning or losing. There is won and there is lost; there is victory and defeat. There are absolutes. Everything in between is still left to fight for. Serpine will have won only when there is no one left to stand against him. Until then, there is only the struggle, because tides do what tides do – they turn.”
“This is insane—”
He turned to her so sharply Stephanie thought he might strike her.
“I’ve just seen a very dear friend turn into a statue, Tanith. Meritorious and Crow, two of the few people in this world I respected, have been murdered. So yes, you’re right when you say our allies are dropping like flies, but this was never going to be an easy fight. Casualties are to be expected. And you know what we do? We step over them and we move on because we don’t have any other choice. Now I’m going to stop Serpine once and for all. Anyone who wants to come with me, they’re welcome. Anyone who doesn’t, it won’t make a blind bit of difference. Serpine will be stopped and that’s all there is to it.”
He got into the Bentley and started the engine. Stephanie hesitated, then opened the passenger door and slid in. She glanced at Skulduggery as she buckled up but he was staring straight ahead. He waited three seconds, then put the car in gear and was about to drive off when Tanith got in behind them.
“No need to get all dramatic about it,” she muttered and Stephanie managed to smile. Skulduggery pulled out on to the road, driving fast.
“Where are we going?” Stephanie asked.
“Weren’t you listening?” Skulduggery responded, sounding like he was back to his old self. “We’re going to stop Serpine. I just made a whole speech about it. It was very good.”
Tanith leaned forward. “You know where he is?”
“Yes, I do. It came to me just there as I was filling the tank.”
“What did?”
“The Sceptre. Why did Serpine go after the Sceptre?”
Stephanie frowned. “Because it’s the ultimate weapon.”
“And why did he want it?”
“To, you know, to retrieve the ritual he needs to bring the Faceless Ones back, to force whoever knows it to tell him.”
“No.”
“He isn’t going to use it to retrieve the ritual?”
“The Sceptre’s too clumsy, too unwieldy. If he threatens to kill the only person in the world who knows how to work the ritual – what if that person chooses death rather than hand it over? What’s he supposed to do then? No. He used the Sceptre to kill the Elders. That’s the only reason he wanted it. He knew he wasn’t powerful enough to take them on without it.”
“And so how does that help him retrieve the ritual?”
“This isn’t just about the ritual any more. What do you get if you kill the Elders?”
“This sounds like a joke.”
“Valkyrie—”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Now think. What would killing the Elders result in?”
“Panic? Fear? Three empty parking spaces in the Sanctuary?”
Skulduggery looked at her and Stephanie’s confusion lifted. “Oh, God,” she said.
“He’s after the Book,” Skulduggery said. “He needed the Sceptre to kill Meritorious and Morwenna Crow in order to dismantle the spell protecting it. He doesn’t have to force anyone to do anything; all he’ll have to do is ask. He’s been after the Book of Names all along.”
28
CARNAGE
ublin City was quiet when they reached the Waxworks Museum, as if it was holding its breath. The stars were obscured by a veil of dark clouds, and as they left the Bentley and approached the rear entrance, the rain fell steadily. On the street beyond the gates, cars splashed through puddles and the occasional pedestrian hurried by with his head down. Skulduggery moved quickly but cautiously up to the open door, and Stephanie and Tanith followed.
Stephanie had expected to arrive in the middle of a pitched battle – she expected to hear the sounds of fighting. But the Waxworks was silent. As they walked through the exhibits to the hidden door, Skulduggery slowed and eventually came to a complete stop.
“What’s wrong?” Stephanie whispered.
He turned his head slowly, peering into the darkness. “I don’t want to alarm anybody, but we’re not alone.”
That’s when they came, the Hollow Men, detaching themselves from the shadows with only the faintest rasp of warning. In an instant they were surrounded by the mindless, heartless, soulless things.
Tanith waded through them, her sword strokes deliberate and devastating, every move claiming another un-life. Skulduggery clicked his fingers and a group of Hollow Men were suddenly alight. Stephanie shrank back as they wheeled around blindly. The flames ate through their skin and ignited the putrid gas trapped inside, and with a burst of fire and heat, the Hollow Men fell.
One of them avoided the flames and lunged at Stephanie and she punched it square in the face, her fist sinking into its head slightly. Its own fist swung at her and she ducked, then moved into it like she’d seen Skulduggery do, jammed her hip into it and twisted, and the Hollow Man hit the ground. It wasn’t graceful and it wasn’t pretty, but it worked. While it was down there she grabbed its wrist and stomped on its chest, and with a loud tear she pulled its arm off.
As the Hollow Man deflated beneath her, Stephanie realised everything had gone quiet again. She looked up at Skulduggery and Tanith, realised they’d been watching her.
“Not bad,” Tanith said, an eyebrow raised.
“That’s the last of them,” Skulduggery said. “Now for the main event.”
The hidden door to the Sanctuary hung open like a gaping wound. A dead Cleaver lay just inside. Stephanie hesitated for a moment, then stepped over the body and they followed the steps down.
The Sanctuary’s foyer had witnessed most of the carnage. It was littered with the dead. There were no wounded here, there were no dying – there were only corpses. Some had been cut to ribbons, some were unmarked and there were places, spread across the floor, where there was only the dust of those who had fallen before the Sceptre. Stephanie tried to step without touching the remains, but they were piled so deep that this was impossible.
She passed the Administrator. His body was curled, his fingers hooked and frozen in death. His face was a mask of agony. A victim of Serpine’s red right hand.
Skulduggery went to the doorway on their left and peered around, making sure the corridor was empty. Tanith passed, pressing herself against the wall and nodding to him. He moved forward, stopped, nodded back to her, and they continued like this as they stalked deeper into the Sanctuary.
No more walking straight into danger, Stephanie thought to herself. This was the only sign they gave that they might actually be afraid.
She followed along behind. Her palms were slick with sweat and her mouth was dry. She felt as if her legs weren’t going to support her for very much longer. Her thoughts went to her parents, her loving parents. If she died here, if she died tonight, would they even notice? Her reflection would carry on with its empty masquerade and they’d gradually begin to realise that this thing, this thing they thought was their daughter, its affections weren’t even real. They’d realise it was all an act, but they’d still think it was her. And they’d live out the rest of their days thinking that their own daughter didn’t love them.
Stephanie didn’t want to put them through that. She was going to die, she knew she was. She should turn now, and run, run away. This wasn’t her business. This wasn’t her world. It was like Ghastly said, the first time she met him – Gordon had already lost his life because of this nonsense. Was she so keen to join him?
She didn’t hear him. She didn’t hear his footsteps, not even when he was so close he could have reached out and stroked her hair. She didn’t catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, and she didn’t notice his shadow or see a reflection, because if he didn’t want to be seen, he wouldn’t be seen. But as he was moving behind her she felt his presence, she felt the air shift slightly and brush against the skin of her hands and she didn’t even have to turn her head – she just knew.
She launched herself forward and Skulduggery and Tanith looked back as she rolled and came up.
The White Cleaver stood there, silent as a ghost, deadly as a plague.
Tanith turned to see Valkyrie coming up out of her roll and saw the White Cleaver standing behind her.
“Valkyrie,” Tanith said, keeping her voice low and steady, “get behind me.”
Stephanie moved backwards and the Cleaver attempted to stop her.
“I’ll hold him off,” Tanith said, not taking her eyes off her adversary. “You stop Serpine.”
Tanith drew her sword, and she heard Skulduggery and Stephanie hurry away. The White Cleaver reached over his shoulder and pulled out his scythe.
Tanith stepped towards him.
“I ordered you to distract the Hollow Men, didn’t I?” she said. “You were one of the Cleavers assigned to us.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t even move.
“For whats it’s worth,” Tanith said, “I’m sorry about what happened to you. But it was necessary. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what is going to happen to you. But that’s necessary too.” He started twirling his scythe and she raised an eyebrow. “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.”
He lunged and she blocked and sprang at him, her sword slicing through the air. He ducked back and blocked, spinning as the scythe whistled over Tanith’s head. Her sword clashed with his blade and then the handle of the scythe, and his blade clashed with her sword and then the lacquered scabbard she still held in her left hand.
She ducked under his guard, staying in close, where she had the advantage, where he couldn’t manoeuvre the scythe.
His blocks were lightning fast but he was on the defensive and one of her strikes would get through eventually. Her sword sliced through his side and he stumbled back, out of range. Tanith looked at the blood on his white coat and gave him a smile. Then the blood started to darken and a black stain moved over the red.
Her smile dropped and the bleeding stopped altogether.
She backed away. There was a door behind her and she waved it open as the Cleaver advanced.
The room she backed into was filled with cages, and in these cages, men and women stood and sat. She realised instantly where she was – the Sanctuary’s Gaol. The people in these cages were the worst of the worst, criminals of such a sickening and grotesque order that they had to be held here, in the Sanctuary itself. The cages bound their powers while at the same time sustaining their bodies, keeping them healthy and nourished. It meant neither the Elders nor the Cleavers had to bring them food and water – these criminals only had themselves for company. And when the person in the cage next to each of them was as maniacal and as egotistical as they were, that was hell itself.
The Cleaver pursued her steadily down the steps, sparks flying as their blades clashed.
The prisoners watched, and for the first few moments, they were confused. The Cleavers were their jailers, yet this Cleaver wore white, and they recognised something within him, something that identified him as one of them. They started to shout and cheer as Tanith was forced back, enemies all around her.
She blocked a strike and her bruised wrist gave way. The Cleaver took full advantage, his blade passing along her belly, drawing blood. She grimaced in pain and retreated under the Cleaver’s impossibly fast onslaught, barely managing to keep up her defence.
The prisoners laughed and jeered, reaching through the cage bars at her, pulling at her hair, trying to scratch her. One of them snagged her coat and she spun out of it, throwing her sword and scabbard into the air as she freed her arms from the sleeves and catching them again before the Cleaver could close the gap.
He swung and she blocked with the scabbard and flicked up with the sword but he was twisting the scythe, deflecting the strike and coming back with one of his own.
Tanith dodged back, lost her footing and went into a backwards roll as he brought the scythe down, the point of the blade striking the ground where she had just been.
The prisoners howled with laughter as she turned and ran to the wall, the Cleaver right behind her. She jumped to the wall and kept going till she was upside-down, and she crossed the ceiling, trading strikes with the Cleaver below her. He was forced to walk backwards, to defend and attack over his own head.
The Cleaver slashed and missed and she saw her chance and took it. She struck his left hand with her scabbard and his fingers opened. She dropped and flipped, landing before he could recover, and snatched the scythe from his grasp. She kicked out and he stumbled back and she drove her sword into him.
The prisoners stopped jeering. The Cleaver took a step back.
Tanith swung the scythe, burying the blade in his chest. He fell to his knees, black blood dripping on to the floor.
She looked down at him, felt his eyes through his visor, looking back at her. Then his weight fell back onto his haunches, his shoulders sagged and his head lolled forward.
The prisoners were muttering now, cheated out of seeing her die. Tanith gripped her sword and pulled it from the Cleaver’s body, snatched up the scabbard and ran for the steps.
She heard a crash from elsewhere in the Sanctuary – the Repository – and urgency lent her speed. Just as she neared the top step, however, one of the prisoners laughed.
She turned and, to her horror, saw the White Cleaver standing, pulling the scythe from his chest. He can’t be stopped, she said to herself. Just like Serpine, he can’t be stopped. She ran the last few steps to the door and just as she reached it the breath went out of her.
She stopped, frowning, willing her body to move, but it wouldn’t listen. She looked down, at the tip of the scythe that protruded through her chest.
She turned, cursing herself, saw the Cleaver walking up the steps toward her. That was some throw. She almost laughed. Her right arm was numb and her sword fell from her grip. He stepped up beside her and took hold of the scythe. He circled, moving her around, looking at her like he was observing her pain, remembering what it was like.
A twist of his hands and she was forced to her knees. She gasped when he removed the weapon, saw her own blood, deep red, mix with the black blood already on the blade. Her body was shutting down. She wasn’t going to be able to defend herself.
He raised the scythe. Tanith looked up, ready to die, then realised that when he had circled her he had passed through the doorway, and was now standing out in the corridor.
She lunged, slamming the door in his visored face. She pressed her hand against it and whispered “Withstand.” The sheen spread over the door just as the Cleaver began to pound on it from the other side.
She had failed. She had slowed him down but she hadn’t stopped him, and now Serpine had his attack dog back.
Tanith tried standing but her body couldn’t take any more. She slumped to the ground. The prisoners watched from their cages with delighted eyes, and as her blood seeped through her tunic, they started whispering.
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