Resurrection

  “And you think you’ve been feeling sorry for yourself?”

  “Haven’t I?”

  “I don’t think so. Even if you were, so what? You do what is right for you, Valkyrie.”

  “I just think I’ve wasted so many opportunities to let the people I love know that I love them. And my folks have been so patient with me. They’ve given me all the space I needed without even knowing why I needed it. Every few days, Mum or Dad would send me a new message. Never to pressure me, just to … include me, I suppose. To keep me involved. If I die now, they’ll never know how much I appreciate them.” She looked away. “I’ve got something in my head. A recurring thought, or a … a belief. It resurfaces every once in a while. Sometimes I feel that I’m already dead, you know? Like I’m an actual corpse. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “For anyone apart from me, that would be considered unusual, yes.”

  “I thought, maybe, because I have this belief, that I’d be used to it by now. The idea of death, I mean. But the prospect of real death, of actual death … It’s still terrifying. I don’t want to die, Skulduggery.”

  “You’re probably not going to have a choice.”

  “I want to see my family.”

  “I’m going to kill you.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you. Is there anything I can do to take your mind off your impending demise? A joke, perhaps? A witty anecdote?”

  “I suppose you can tell me why you quit as Commander of the City Guard.”

  He tilted his head again, this time at an amused angle. She knew all his angles. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  “Hey, you offered.”

  “OK,” he said, “I’ll tell you. Do you remember China’s little Council of Advisors?”

  “Vespers, Praetor and Drang.”

  “All of whom are new additions,” Skulduggery said. “Drang succeeded Warheit as German Grand Mage, Vespers replaced Graves as English Grand Mage and, most recently, Praetor took over from a man named—”

  “Cypher.”

  “Yes. China had given Cypher control of the American Sanctuary because he’d fed her information back when his predecessor was in charge. Cypher was ambitious and cunning, and that got him the job. But his ambition didn’t stop there. He saw what China had and wanted it for himself, so he tried to have her assassinated.”

  “But you foiled it,” said Valkyrie.

  “Naturally. But, while in our custody, one of the members of the City Guard got a little carried away in the interrogation stage, and Cypher was killed.”

  “That Yonder guy, right? The one who doesn’t like you?”

  “That’s the one. Some people called his actions overzealous. Some called it murder. China quite liked the rumour going around, that we’d executed Cypher in his cell for daring to oppose the Supreme Mage. She felt it set a healthy precedent, and Yonder was released with a reprimand. I resigned the next day.”

  Valkyrie picked some dried blood from beneath her fingernails. “So why wouldn’t you tell me this? You quit because you didn’t like the way things were going. What’s so bad about that?”

  “That was the straw, Valkyrie. The catalyst. But everything leading up to that point … that’s the part of the story I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to tell you about Somnolent.”

  She frowned. “Who’s Somnolent?”

  But he was already turning his head to the sound of an opening door, then footsteps, getting closer, and muttering. Skulduggery stepped back, clearing the way for Destrier to walk past. His head was down, his brow furrowed, his fingers moving like he was tapping a small, distorted keyboard.

  “Destrier?” Skulduggery said.

  Destrier spun suddenly, eyes wide, like he was shocked to find himself among people. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, sorry, I … I got lost there. For a moment. In my head.” He glanced into the cell. “You’ve got to bring her. The girl. The Valkyrie. Lethe is ready to begin.”

  “Excellent.”

  Destrier nodded. He went to move off, then stopped, turned, hesitated.

  Skulduggery stepped into his line of sight. “And where are you going?”

  “Work,” Destrier said. “Going to continue my work. I’m not sure … I don’t know where, though.”

  “Back through there is where Lethe is,” Skulduggery said, pointing. “That’s where we’re going to resurrect Abyssinia. Is that where you want to go? I thought you’d finished working on that contraption.”

  “Finished, yes,” Destrier said. “Other work to do. My work. Important work. Must be the other way.” He turned again, hurried on.

  Skulduggery watched him go. “What an odd, odd man.” He took down a pair of shackles that had been hanging from the bars of the next cell over, and tossed them through. “Put those on,” he said. “Your right wrist, then back up to the bars.”

  Moving slowly, painfully, she eased her legs off the bunk, scooped up the shackles and stood. “We can get out of here now,” she said.

  He took out his gun, aimed at her leg. “I’ll shoot you again.”

  She clicked the cold metal over her right wrist.

  “Come back to me,” she said, walking up to the door. “Skulduggery, for God’s sake, it’s time to snap out of it. Please. For me.”

  He looked at her for a moment. “Valkyrie …?” he said, his voice soft.

  “Yes! Skulduggery, yes!”

  He laughed. “No, only joking, I wasn’t snapping out of it, I was just being hilarious. You might not be in a laughing mood, though, which is understandable. You’re probably going to die in a few minutes. Turn around.”

  She turned and he reached through the bars, clicked the shackles over her other wrist. When they were secure, he opened the cell door and motioned with the gun. She stepped out.

  “How will you feel afterwards?” she asked, leading the way to her own execution. “When I’m dead and you’re not under Smoke’s influence any more? How are you going to feel when you’re back to normal if you kill me today?”

  “Pretty bad, I would imagine.”

  She looked back at him. “So don’t kill me. Don’t kill anyone.”

  “No … I see your point, but I’m still going to do it. I want to, you know? I want to kill you.”

  Right before they reached the door, she turned. “Skulduggery … please don’t do this. Work with me. You’ve seen the vision. Some of it, at least. You’ve seen what happens if Abyssinia comes back. We can avoid all of that – all of it – if you come back to me. You just have to fight it. Fight them. I’m begging you.”

  “I thought you didn’t beg.”

  “You’re my exception,” she said. “You always were.”

  Skulduggery reached for her slowly, brushing a strand of hair off her face with a gloved finger. Then he reached further, opening the door behind her.

  “It’ll be over soon,” he said.

  62

  They emerged on to a tier of prison cells that circled a wide, empty space, and the volume of the world suddenly twisted up to 11. Convicts cheered, raged, cursed at her, shouted a thousand threats that competed against each other in their race to be heard. She glanced upwards. It was almost dizzying. Tier after tier of hatred and anger and barely contained violence. Skulduggery wrapped an arm round her waist and they floated over the railing and across the gap to the wide, flat disc that hovered above a crackling lake of energy.

  They touched down on the dais. Three metal Xs, skilfully welded and attached to hydraulic arms, stood waiting. She didn’t know what the curved metal plates were for, but, judging by the clasps on display, Valkyrie guessed that those Xs were reserved for her and the two other people on this platform who were wearing shackles. She didn’t recognise the older men, but they looked terrified. Memphis, resplendent in a red jacket and black shirt, gripped the arm of one of them and Razzia, clad in her usual tuxedo, made sure the other stayed put. Nero was too busy holding his head to even g
lance her way, and Smoke sat on the ground amid all those fallen scythes, frantically chewing leaves and clutching his leg.

  Lethe was examining a metal tripod that had been set up near a table. No, not a table – more like a mortuary slab. Upon that slab were two wooden boxes. The bigger one was plain, without any ornamentation. The smaller was carved with intricate symbols. That was the one containing the heart; Valkyrie would have bet her life on it, if her life had been hers to bet. She wondered if she’d be able to lunge for the box and toss it into the lake of energy before anyone stopped her, but Skulduggery’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on her arm.

  “Let’s not, shall we?” he said softly.

  Lethe looked up. “Finally,” he said. “We are ready to proceed. Where is the good doctor?”

  Melior appeared on the tier. He looked exhausted, and wouldn’t meet Valkyrie’s eyes. He peered down at the lake of energy below.

  “Careful now,” Lethe called.

  Melior took a running jump on to the dais. He stumbled slightly as he landed, and Razzia cheered. Ignoring her, he hauled three thick, transparent hoses out of a large sack. He dropped the hoses between the Xs and the tripod, and walked up to Valkyrie. He didn’t say anything, just raised his hand to her face. It started to glow, the warmth overcoming her pain, and when he took his hand away her lips were healed and her jaw didn’t ache.

  “Hey,” Smoke said, getting up and hobbling over. “Do me. Fix my leg.”

  “And my head,” said Nero. “I think I have concussion.”

  “I can’t,” said Melior. “I need my strength for the resurrection.”

  Nero sagged and Smoke stopped chewing leaves long enough to glare. “You fixed her mouth.”

  Melior nodded. “And now I need to conserve my energy.”

  Smoke grabbed his shirt.

  “Hey now!” said Lethe. “Leave the good doctor alone, there’s a good boy.”

  Reluctantly, Smoke released his hold. He turned his glare to Valkyrie.

  “That feel good?” he asked. “It doesn’t hurt any more? I don’t think that’s fair, do you? I think that mouth of yours should be punched all over again.”

  He drew back his fist and Valkyrie crunched her forehead into his face. Smoke staggered back, silent at first, hands covering his nose, but the howl grew and exploded as blood ran down to his chin. “She broke my nose!” he hollered. “She broke my knee and my nose!”

  Lethe shrugged. “You probably shouldn’t be so careless, then. Limp away, Mr Smoke. We don’t have time for silliness. Memphis, Razzia, please move Mr Collup into position.”

  Collup tried gamely to struggle, but there was nothing he could do to prevent being pressed up against the first X. The clasps that snapped around his ankles were bound – Valkyrie could see the sigils carved into the metal. Memphis took the shackles from the old man’s wrists, tossed them aside as Razzia secured his hands above his head.

  Once all the clasps were closed, Razzia opened Collup’s shirt, then swung the curved plate across his chest, locking it in place. The plate had a hole in its centre, as big as a drinks coaster. Satisfied, she stepped back and the hydraulic arm lifted the X off the dais. Melior stood nearby, calculating angles. When it was about seven metres overhead, level with the fourth tier, Melior gave a signal. The arm stopped moving, but the X whirred and slowly turned 180 degrees until Collup was hanging upside down.

  “Mr Rut next,” said Lethe.

  Memphis reached out but Rut pulled away, scrambled back, ran for the edge of the dais. Right on the edge he froze, eyes widening when he saw the lake of energy below.

  “You can’t escape, Tanner,” Lethe said. “This is a prison, remember? Let’s just calm down and give our lives without complaint, what do you say?”

  Memphis grabbed him, hauled him back. They clasped him to the X and secured the plate across his chest, then the arm lifted him high into the air and he, too, turned till he was upside down.

  “And finally,” Lethe said, “Miss Cain.”

  Valkyrie glanced at Skulduggery as Razzia and Memphis came forward, but she started walking before they reached her. They stepped aside, allowing her to position herself against the final X.

  “Now that’s what I like to see,” Lethe said. “A little dignity in your final moments.”

  The clasps were tight around her ankles. Razzia removed the shackles and Valkyrie raised her arms, allowing her wrists to be clasped. Cadaverous watched her, irritation on his face. She knew he’d rather she struggle and beg. She let her eyes drift away from him, like he wasn’t even there.

  Razzia pulled Valkyrie’s T-shirt down a little, then swung the curved plate across her chest. It was cold against her skin.

  “Raise her up,” Razzia said, and the hydraulic arm jerked a little, then lifted her relatively smoothly off the dais. With nothing to stand on, her full bodyweight hung from the cold, uncomfortable clasps. She looked down. Funny, it hadn’t looked nearly as high from down there.

  When she reached the other two Xs, the arm stopped. She could look straight into the cells of the fourth tier, and the convicts leered at her, shouted things that she ignored. The X started to turn. It was an unsettling sensation. She expected the clasps to break at any moment. Her hair got in her eyes. When she was finally upside down, coins spilled from her pockets and hit Smoke on the head.

  He howled. She joined in the laughter. She couldn’t help it.

  “Let me do it!” Smoke yelled. “Let me kill her!”

  The laughter died as Cadaverous took hold of Smoke’s shoulder and leaned in. “You’re not even on the waiting list, Mr Smoke. I’m the one who gets to end her life.”

  “Ah-ah,” Skulduggery responded. “We had a deal. If we get to this point and we’re both still alive, we square off.”

  “We don’t have time for that,” said Cadaverous.

  The blood was rushing to Valkyrie’s head. She felt woozy and ill.

  “Cadaverous has a point,” Lethe said. “We had an arrangement, this is true, but circumstances have changed. Events have transpired. We are now at a crucial juncture and I’m afraid we can’t delay it for a duel.”

  “So,” Cadaverous said, “I kill her.”

  “We, uh, we mightn’t need to kill her,” Melior said. “We might only need the life force of the first two. That could be enough. The only reason we even have a third is on the off chance we need extra.”

  “So there you go!” Lethe said, clapping his hands. “You might get the chance to duel over her yet! Memphis, attach the hose to Mr Collup, if you please.”

  Memphis took hold of one end of the first bit of hose and ran it up into the tripod from beneath, then went to the other end and picked up the nozzle. Slinging the hose over his shoulder, he climbed the hydraulic arm with ease. Collup watched him come. He tried to struggle. The prisoners loved it. They cheered.

  Memphis reached the X and swung out of it with one hand. He took the nozzle and jammed it into the hole in the middle of the curved plate over Collup’s chest, then twisted, locking it in place. He dropped then, tumbling elegantly in mid-air before landing.

  Lethe went to the slab and stood there, hands over the carved box. He hesitated a moment, then opened it, and took out Abyssinia’s heart.

  Valkyrie couldn’t see it that well, but it looked small and dry and pretty unimpressive. She didn’t say anything, though. She was too busy not passing out.

  Lethe turned to Melior. “Richard, if you would kindly get this show on the proverbial road …”

  Melior appeared frozen to the spot. “I … I can’t.”

  “We’ve made it easy on you, Richard. Our sacrificial lambs are killers. You’ll do the world a favour by dispatching them.”

  Melior still didn’t move. Lethe walked over to him, put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I understand,” he said. “You’re conflicted. You don’t want to release a centuries-old evil into the world, but then again you don’t want to never see your husband again. That, Richard, i
s a conflict. That is a true dilemma. I only ask that you listen to your conscience. You do what is right for you, Richard. Forget about the three people dangling overhead – two of whom are self-confessed murderers of perfectly innocent people and the third being ultimately responsible for the senseless deaths of 1,351 poor unfortunate souls. Forget about that. Forget about their red faces. Forget about all the people who will die as a result of Abyssinia’s return. That’s not on you. That’s on us. We are doing this willingly. But you? You have been forced into this position. You don’t have a choice. If you choose not to resurrect Abyssinia, you will never, ever see Savant Vega again. You will condemn him to his fate. But, if you choose to do this, Savant will be returned to you, you have my word, and you will both be allowed to leave.”

  Melior didn’t take his eyes from the heart. “And then what?”

  “Then events will unfold,” said Lethe. “Abyssinia will succeed in her plans, or she will not. That part of the tale has nothing to do with you. Do you want your husband back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then by all means … proceed.”

  Melior approached the slab. He raised his hands over the heart, but hesitated.

  “No,” he said, so softly Valkyrie barely heard him.

  “Sorry?” Lethe asked. “What was that? You’d rather never see Savant again?”

  Melior stepped away from the slab. “I can’t be responsible for what Abyssinia will do.”

  “You won’t be,” said Lethe. “We will. I just explained this.” He looked around. “Didn’t I just explain this?”

  Melior shook his head. “I won’t do it. I won’t be a part of something that will take innocent lives.”

  Razzia laughed. “Told you.”

  “Hush,” Lethe said, and Razzia grinned. Valkyrie watched Lethe wrap an arm round Melior’s shoulders. “Richard, I understand. I do. And I don’t hold it against you. You’re a good man. We tried making it easy on you by giving you dastardly villains, but you have morals. That is to be admired. However, I cannot allow your morals to get in the way of our plans.” He looked up, and said loudly, “Mr Lilt.”