Resurrection

  “Omen Darkly did that?”

  Valkyrie nodded. “It’s the kind of thing that I did at his age. I think he’d surprise you. He sure as hell surprised me.”

  A smile was born, and grew across Militsa’s face. “Well now, I guess it runs in the family. But that’s it, isn’t it? His involvement is now over?”

  “That’s what Skulduggery told him.”

  “Good.”

  “And Omen ignored it, which is something else I would have done at his age. He wants to be a part of this, Militsa. I don’t agree with it – or at least I didn’t. But am I really that hypocritical? I was doing this stuff when I was younger than him. When I was his age, I was fighting fully grown men. Yeah, I got my ass kicked. I got hurt. It was terrifying and dangerous and stupid … but I did it. I handled it.”

  “Omen isn’t like you.”

  “He could be. Any kid could be. Who are we to say who would or would not rise to the challenge?”

  “Valkyrie, I’m an educator. My job is to prepare these kids for life after school. My job is to keep them safe.”

  “Life after school isn’t always safe, not for sorcerers. Keeping them protected from danger, not exposing them to the threats they’ll have to face eventually … isn’t that irresponsible?”

  “No,” Militsa said. “That’s reasonable.”

  “But wouldn’t you have loved it when you were fourteen?”

  “That’s … that’s not the point. If the basis for all decision-making is what you would have liked to happen when you were a teenager, we’d be living in a pretty hedonistic world right now.”

  “And what a happier place that would be.”

  “You’re not going to convince me, Valkyrie. Kids shouldn’t be wrapped in cotton wool, but neither should they be dangled over the jaws of danger.”

  “But you’re OK about Auger Darkly getting into danger all on his own?”

  “Auger is … different. His family trained him from birth. He was brought up to do this kind of thing.”

  “Omen was there, too. He trained beside his brother, didn’t he? Just because he hasn’t had a chance to show it yet doesn’t mean he hasn’t got what it takes.”

  “I think you’re probably biased.”

  “Maybe,” Valkyrie said. “But I am who I am today because of doing stupid things in my teenage years.”

  “And how’s that working out for you?”

  Stunned, Valkyrie turned away.

  “Oh, no,” Militsa said. “No, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean it like that, Valkyrie, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s OK.”

  “It’s really not.” Militsa grabbed Valkyrie’s hand in both of hers. “Please, I didn’t mean it. It’s just something I blurted out without thinking. It was meant to be smart and arch and it was just … it was cruel.”

  “It’s fine,” said Valkyrie. “And you’re right.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I’m not exactly a well-adjusted adult, Militsa. I can’t focus. I can barely use my magic. I don’t even know what my magic is any more. And I’m scared. All the time, I’m scared.”

  “But you’re a good person, doing good things.”

  “Debatable.”

  “You’re a hero, Valkyrie. You were a hero to me when I was a kid, hearing about all those things you were doing. You can’t imagine how much that meant to me, to know that there was someone my age out there, making the kind of difference you were making.”

  “It left scars.”

  “Everything leaves scars. You just can’t see most of them. I’m really sorry I said what I said. Can you forgive me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thank you. And maybe … maybe you have a unique perspective because of everything you’ve been through. When it comes to Omen and what he can handle, maybe you know best.”

  “He only wants to be involved. I think it’s the least I can do.”

  The tram stopped outside Corrival Academy, and Militsa stood. “Come on.”

  Valkyrie frowned. “I’m heading on to the High Sanctuary.”

  “To meet a Teleporter you don’t know? No, no, you’re getting off with me.” Militsa pulled Valkyrie from the tram a moment before it started moving again. “Omen has a friend who is Fletcher’s best student. If you need a Teleporter you know you can trust, Never is the one for you. Providing you can offer me some guarantee regarding the safety of my students …?”

  “I can guarantee their safety,” Valkyrie said, “up to a point.”

  “That … doesn’t reassure me.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Valkyrie said. “I’ll have another adult with me to supervise. We’ll keep them as safe as we can and as far from danger as we can manage. Trust me.”

  46

  “We’re going to die,” Never whispered.

  “We’re fine,” Omen assured her. “Just act natural.”

  “Jenan knows we know. Is he looking over? He’s looking over here.”

  “He’s looking at the clock.”

  “What does he have in his hand? Is it a knife? Is it a gun?”

  “It’s a pen.”

  “What’s he doing with a pen?”

  “His homework, I think.”

  “Quiet down there,” Mr Chou said, not even looking up from the papers he was marking. The study hall was only half full. Whispers carried.

  Never lowered her head until her forehead was resting on the desk. “Why did you tell me?” she asked quietly. “Why did you even tell me about the anti-Sanctuary and people trying to kill you? I was happy being ignorant. Why did you tell me?”

  “Because you said we shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

  “I meant other secrets. Crushes on people, things like that. Regular secrets, Omen. Not actual secrets.”

  “I promise you, you’re not in any danger.”

  She turned her head, glaring at him. “You don’t know that. I might be putting myself in danger just by talking to you right now.”

  “None of the bad guys know who I am.”

  “But they saw you. They saw your face. What if one of them is a sketch artist? And he showed the drawing to Jenan, and Jenan said, yeah, I know that guy, he’s an idiot, but he has a cute friend. Let’s kill them both.”

  “Never,” Mr Chou said, and Never sat up straight. “Omen. You may not think it, but my ears actually work, you know.”

  “Can you make out what we’re saying?” Never asked.

  Mr Chou sighed. “No. Your undoubtedly riveting conversation is lost to me. I will take that regret to my grave. But I can hear your murmurings and I can see your lips move. This is study hall. Either study, do homework, or at least work harder at disguising the fact that you’re doing neither.”

  “Sorry, sir,” said Omen, and made a point of looking like he was studying his textbook. Chou sighed, and went back to marking.

  “There’s so much I have yet to do in this world,” Never whispered. “So much I have yet to experience. I’ve never opened a savings account. I’ve never studied for my driving test.” Her head dropped forward again. “I’ve never filed a tax return.”

  “You’re very strange.”

  “Don’t judge me.”

  “Your life isn’t in danger. I’m pretty sure they’re not going to let me continue doing what I’ve been doing, so you can relax, OK? No one’s going to come looking for us.”

  The door opened, and Miss Gnosis stepped in. “Excuse me, Mr Chou,” she said in that distinctive Scottish accent, “could I borrow Omen and Never, please?”

  Omen frowned while Never paled.

  “Take them,” Chou said, waving a hand. “You have my blessing.”

  Miss Gnosis smiled, and motioned them forward. “Come along,” she said. “And bring your things.”

  Omen hesitated, then slid his textbook into his bag and stood. Taking great care not to even glance in Jenan’s direction, he led Never out of the classroom. When they were in the corridor and walking a
way, Miss Gnosis lowered her voice.

  “You’re in trouble,” she said.

  “I knew it,” Never whispered.

  Omen’s mouth was dry. “What did we do?”

  Miss Gnosis strode ahead, and it was all Omen and Never could do to keep up. “Don’t play that game with me, Mr Darkly. I’ve had quite an afternoon, hearing about what you’ve been getting up to. And during school hours and everything.”

  “I … I don’t know what you …”

  “You’re turning into as much of an adventurer as your brother, you know that?”

  “Miss Gnosis,” Omen said, choosing his words carefully, “are you going to kill us?”

  She glared. “By the dead, no. What do you think of me, you silly boy?”

  “Just checking, miss.”

  They stopped at their lockers. “Go on,” she said. “Put your bags away. We don’t have long.”

  They did as they were told, and moved on quickly to the science lab. Miss Gnosis nodded to the open door. “In you go,” she said.

  Never frowned. “You’re not coming in with us?”

  “I’m keeping watch,” Miss Gnosis said. “And, before you go in there, remember: you don’t have to agree to anything. No one will think any less of you. Go on now.”

  Puzzled, Omen and Never walked in, and Miss Gnosis shut the door after them. Valkyrie Cain stood up from the teacher’s desk at the head of the room.

  “Omen,” she said. “And you must be Never. It’s very good to meet you.”

  Never froze. Whether Valkyrie noticed or not, Omen didn’t know, but she continued talking anyway.

  “I’m not going to waste your time,” she said. “I need your help. Both of you. It won’t be dangerous – at least, I don’t think it will. I need to go to San Francisco. I need to talk to some people, maybe search a house. Then come right back. Never, Militsa tells me you’re turning out to be a pretty good Teleporter.”

  Omen frowned. “Who?”

  “Miss Gnosis,” Valkyrie said. “Miss Gnosis told me, sorry. Never, are you OK?”

  Omen put his hand on Never’s back. A gesture of solidarity, he hoped. “There’s something you should know,” he said.

  Valkyrie stood there, waiting, but Omen didn’t quite know how to put it.

  “Darquesse killed my brother,” Never said, and Valkyrie’s face went slack. “He wasn’t fighting her, or anything. He was the age I am now. He didn’t have a clue what was happening. A building fell on him.”

  “I’m … I’m sorry,” Valkyrie said softly.

  “Killed him instantly,” Never said. “We’d just moved here. We’d been here a week. My brother was so excited about living in Roarhaven. We all were. We’d always wanted to live where we wouldn’t have to hide who we were.”

  Valkyrie swayed slightly, like she was light-headed. “I’m … Do you mind if I sit?”

  “I’d prefer that you stand, actually,” Never said. “It’s the least you can do, isn’t it, when we’re talking about my brother?”

  “Never …” Omen said quietly.

  “No, she’s right,” said Valkyrie. “Carry on, Never.”

  “Thank you, Valkyrie. I know Darquesse isn’t you. We all know how it happened. Kind of. They teach us it here, did you know that? But they leave some bits out, such as exactly how your reflection malfunctioned so badly. I think they don’t tell us that bit because they’re afraid we might try something similar with our own reflections. Which is a bit of a laugh, to be honest. I mean, why would we want to copy something that murdered so many innocent people?”

  “I never meant for any of it to happen,” Valkyrie said.

  Never nodded. “That bit they do tell us. They say that Darquesse became Darquesse because of a series of totally random circumstances that Valkyrie Cain had no control over. But I think you did have control – you just decided not to use it.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Wasn’t there a prophecy, or something? Didn’t the Sensitives have dreams about Darquesse, years before it all kicked off?”

  Valkyrie stood up a little straighter, though it looked like something was twisting in her gut. “Yes,” she said.

  “But when you found out that Darquesse was your true name, that you were Darquesse, you didn’t stop, did you? You didn’t walk away and never use magic again – even though you’d had warnings that Darquesse would, at some stage, kill the world.”

  “I thought I could stop it from happening.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No.”

  “You failed.”

  “Yes.”

  “You should have walked away, but you loved it too much. You loved being the hero. You loved hanging out with Skulduggery Pleasant and Tanith Low and the Dead Men … you loved hanging out with people like Billy-Ray Sanguine, a known murderer. You loved the adventure.”

  “I did.”

  Never nodded. “My mum met you once. You wouldn’t remember – it was only for a few minutes. It was at the Requiem Ball. She says you were one of the most arrogant people she’d ever talked to. She said you were so young and full of confidence, and you looked at all the other sorcerers like you were so much better than them. She said she knew right then that you were trouble. Just trouble, waiting to happen.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Never.”

  “Could you argue, even if you wanted to?”

  “Yes. Some of your points I would very much argue. But not the main point. The main point is that I’m responsible for what Darquesse did. That I failed to stop her in time. That haunts me. She haunts me. I’ll never be able to forget that.”

  “You should just kill yourself.”

  “Never!” Omen said, shocked.

  “I thought about it,” Valkyrie said quietly. “When it would get too much for me, I’d think about it.”

  “I wish you’d done it,” Never said.

  “I hated myself too much. I needed to suffer. Ending my life would have ended my pain, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.”

  “I hate you, too.”

  “I can see that. But I need your help.”

  Never laughed. “You really are as arrogant as my mum said.”

  “I’m trying to help people. I’m trying to save lives. I don’t know if Omen has told you anything about what’s going on, but Skulduggery Pleasant is no longer on our side.”

  “I heard.”

  “Then you know what’s at stake.”

  “If you need a Teleporter, go to the High Sanctuary.”

  “I don’t trust them.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “Do you trust me, Never?” asked Omen. She looked at him and he saw the anger in her eyes. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose a brother. If I lost Auger, I don’t know what I’d do. So I don’t know what you’ve been through, or what you’re going through now. But this isn’t about Valkyrie. This is about saving people. If the anti-Sanctuary succeed here, they’ll be one step closer to war with the mortals.”

  “You want me to help her?”

  “I want you to help me help her.”

  “So you’re going, even if I don’t?”

  “If Valkyrie will let me … yes.”

  “You can come,” Valkyrie said, “and help me search. But, if anything goes wrong, you’re out of there. No arguments.”

  Omen nodded, and looked at Never.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll come. But only because she’ll probably get you killed without me.”

  “Do you know San Francisco?” Valkyrie asked.

  “Mr Renn has taken us to all the major American cities,” she said. “I’ve been there before so I can get there again.”

  “We’ll leave in ten minutes, if you want to change out of your uniforms.”

  Never shrugged, and walked out. When the door was swinging closed again, Omen spoke.

  “She’s a really good person,” he said. “She’s just angry.”

  Valkyrie gave a sad smile. “T
hanks, Omen, but you don’t have to explain. She’s entitled to how she feels. Go on now, grab a change of clothes and I’ll meet you back here.”

  Omen nodded, and left the room. He hurried to the dorms, got changed into jeans and a hoody, then swapped that for a shirt and pulled on a heavy jacket, and ran back.

  He didn’t get far before Jenan stepped out ahead of him.

  “Where are you skipping off to?” he said, stepping closer.

  Omen backed off. “Just … Just down there.”

  “Just down there? What’s just down there? Eh? Why are you out of uniform? Where are you going, Darkly?”

  Omen stopped backing away, and puffed his chest out. “None of your business, Ispolin.”

  Jenan charged, got a hand round Omen’s throat and slammed him back against the wall.

  “Get off me!” Omen gasped, trying to pull the hand away.

  “I know it was you,” Jenan said, right in his ear. Omen stopped struggling. “I should kill you. I really should. I don’t know, I haven’t killed anyone before. The idea … it’s kinda scary. I’m just being honest with you here, Darkly. It’s a big step to take. But I think killing you would be easier than killing someone that matters. I mean, I doubt your folks would even notice. Your brother would be sad, so that’s another reason to do it, to ruin the big shot’s day. Killing you would be easy. How would you feel about that? How would you feel about being my first?”

  Omen tried to bury his fear. “They’re using you. Lilt and Lethe and the others. They’re using all of you. They’re telling you that you’re special and they’re making you feel like you belong, but they’re lying to you.”

  “This is weird,” Jenan said, his voice soft, almost dreamlike. “It feels … freeing. I’ve made the decision, you know? I’m going to kill someone. I’m going to kill you. I’ve been waiting my whole life to get to this point. I have, I don’t mind saying, fantasised about what comes next. I have imagined so many scenarios, so many situations, so many faces … But, since the first time I met you, I think I’ve known it would be you. I think I always knew it’d be your face. I just want to thank you. I’m sorry I was so mean to you. I’m sorry I picked on you. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”