Death Bringer

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?”

  “I need constant distraction. Shall we go?”

  “Uh, aren’t you going to delegate responsibility or something? If you’re not here, who’s in charge?”

  Skulduggery looked around, and pointed to a sorcerer at the far side of the cemetery. “He is.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Don’t know. He looks like leadership material though, doesn’t he?”

  “Does he?”

  “He’s wearing a hat.”

  “And that means he’s a leader?”

  “Leaders wear hats. It’s to keep the rain off while we make important decisions. He’ll do fine.”

  “Shouldn’t you tell him that he’s in charge?”

  “And spoil the surprise?” Skulduggery asked, and started towards the Bentley without waiting for an answer.

  Valkyrie sighed and followed.

  They left the Bentley on the second floor of the Terminal Two car park, and walked to the Arrivals Area. Skulduggery’s façade had a small beard. It went well with the face.

  They caught sight of Dragonclaw almost immediately. Dressed in black, thin, bald, with that ridiculously wispy goatee. He had his back to them, waiting with everyone else as passengers poured in. They moved up behind him, waited for a big cheer to go up somewhere to their left, and moved.

  “Bison,” Skulduggery said as he gripped his elbow. “What a silly name for a skinny man.”

  Dragonclaw’s free hand went to his belt, but Valkyrie grabbed his wrist with both hands and stepped close to him.

  “No public displays of magic, please,” she said with a smile.

  Skulduggery leaned in. “If you draw attention to your predicament, it will be most unfortunate. Not for us, but definitely for you. For you, there will be a lot of pain involved, and crying and squawking and horrible sounds like breaking bones. You’re not a fan of pain, are you, Bison? Of course you’re not. You’re a reasonable fellow, after all. Let’s take a little walk, shall we? Away from the nice people.”

  Still gripping each arm, they walked him from the crowd, looking like an exceedingly odd family during a really awkward reunion.

  “You’ll regret this,” Dragonclaw snarled. “You’ll regret standing against us. I’ll make you regret it.”

  “You’re in a bad mood,” Skulduggery said. “I understand. I do. You’re saying things you don’t really mean. It’s OK.”

  “I’ll kill you both.”

  “Hurtful things said in the heat of the moment. We’re not going to hold it against you, Bison. We’re all friends here.”

  Valkyrie nodded. “We love you, Bison.”

  “We do,” Skulduggery agreed. “You’re our favourite Necromancer. You’re the cuddly one.”

  “Shut up,” Dragonclaw said. “Both of you just shut up.”

  They paused to allow a large group of large people to pass by, and then, from nowhere, there was a flash of yellow jacket.

  “Excuse me,” Dragonclaw said loudly, and the cop stopped, and looked at them.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  Valkyrie turned Dragonclaw’s wrist painfully, and she felt Skulduggery apply pressure on his side. Dragonclaw yelped in pain and the cop’s eyes widened.

  “We’re looking for the toilets,” Skulduggery said quickly. “Our friend here isn’t the best at holding it in, and sometimes he needs a little assistance.”

  The cop nodded in understanding. “Of course, yes. The toilets are right over there. See them?”

  “There they are!” Valkyrie said brightly. “Thank you so much! It would have been a mess!”

  Dragonclaw hissed in pain as they hurried him away.

  “Try anything like that again,” Skulduggery told him, “and you’ll be talking to us with two broken arms. Whimper if you understand.”

  Dragonclaw whimpered.

  They got to the toilets. Valkyrie grabbed an Out of Order sign from a nearby cart and propped it up at the entrance. Skulduggery threw Dragonclaw against the wall and searched him while Valkyrie checked that each of the stalls was empty. Skulduggery pulled Dragonclaw’s knife from his belt, then took a scrap of paper from Dragonclaw’s pocket and passed it to Valkyrie. On it was a time and a number.

  “The flight he’s waiting on has already landed,” he said. They both looked at Dragonclaw. “How many are coming?”

  Dragonclaw rubbed his arm, and sneered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Skulduggery shook his head. “I would love to have a battle of wits with you, Bison, but I doubt it’d be a fair fight.”

  “Shut your face.”

  “Exactly my point. So if you think we’re going to trade banter or get into wordplay or anything like that, I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. Instead, we’re going to be very simple and very direct, because we obviously don’t have a lot of time. How many are coming? And before you try another sneer, please understand that I will inflict pain if you fail to answer.”

  “Save yourself the bother,” Valkyrie said. “You’re going to tell us anyway, and you know you are. So why get hurt? Why not skip to the end?”

  Dragonclaw looked at both of them for a long time before shaking his head. “No. I’m not a traitor.”

  “Yes, you are,” Valkyrie said. “You just don’t know it yet.”

  Dragonclaw stood up straight, chin stuck out defiantly towards Skulduggery. “If you’re going to hit me, hit me. I haven’t got all—”

  Valkyrie rapped her knuckles right on his chin. Dragonclaw’s eyes bulged and his knees quivered, then he fell backwards to the wall and slid down to the floor. Skulduggery looked at her and she shrugged.

  “You’d have knocked his teeth out or something,” she said. “All I did was give him a little brain-shake.” She looked down. “Bison. Bison, can you hear me? How many are coming?”

  “I’ll never tell…”

  “The plane landed ten minutes ago,” Skulduggery said to her. “If we’re lucky, they’re only just starting to disembark. You need to get to them before they clear Customs.”

  Valkyrie’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Me? Alone?”

  “I need to ask Bison some questions about getting into the Temple. You’ll be fine.”

  “How am I supposed to get by the security section? I don’t have a ticket.”

  Skulduggery cocked his head. “Valkyrie, you’ve got magical powers. If you can’t get through airport security, then I have failed in whatever capacity I have as a mentor.”

  She glowered. “Fine. What do I do when I find them?”

  “You need to delay them for a few hours, at least.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  “They’ll be very serious people wearing black. It won’t take much for the police to stop them for a chat. Go on now.”

  Still glowering, Valkyrie left the toilets and walked to the Departure gates. The queue wasn’t very long. She followed an old couple and a businessman through the cordoned-off section. The businessman was obviously in a hurry, and the old couple weren’t moving fast enough for his taste. He muttered and sighed and cursed under his breath, loud enough for them to hear. Valkyrie didn’t like him. His passport and ticket were in his jacket pocket. She gripped the air and pulled it back, the ticket slipping into her hand.

  The old couple showed their tickets to the woman at the desk and passed through. Valkyrie took the opportunity to wave the businessman’s ticket to the woman while the businessman cursed loudly as he searched his pockets. The woman nodded to her and Valkyrie smiled, left the ill-tempered man to his bluster and frustration, and approached the metal detectors. Even if she’d been hiding a dozen guns on her person, the clothes would have shielded them all. She walked through and strode on.

  She passed through the Duty Free shops, resisting the sudden urge to check out the sunglasses on offer. On the other side of the glass wall travellers walked in the opposite direction, having just arrived. That’s where Valkyrie needed to be. There
were a few Staff Only doors she could have tried to sneak through, but she didn’t know where they led, and she didn’t have the luxury of trial and error. The only way she was guaranteed to get where she needed to be was to get out on to the tarmac, and then come back in through an Arrivals door.

  She reached the Departure gates. Three flights were boarding. She went to the huge windows that looked out on to the tarmac. Only one of those flights didn’t have a walkway that connected to the door of the aircraft. She joined that crowd as they showed their passports and filtered through. She smiled at a man and he let her in front of him, then she waved her hand slightly and all the papers on the flight attendant’s desk fluttered into the air. The attendant grabbed at them as Valkyrie slipped by unnoticed. She took the steps down, following the passengers out of the building. Another attendant directed them to the pedestrian pathway that led to the plane. She was wearing a nice hat. Valkyrie waved her hand, less gently this time, and the hat flew off the attendant’s head. Valkyrie turned sharply, heading for the door further on.

  A man in uniform frowned at her. “Are you supposed to be here?”

  “Yes,” she smiled. “I got delayed.”

  She went to walk by him, but he stepped in her path. “Are you sure? What flight did you come in on?”

  “Heathrow,” she said. “I don’t know the number of the plane, sorry. It was a big one, though. The plane, not the number. Though the number was pretty big too.”

  He held up a hand. “Could you hold on a minute? I’m going to have to call someone.”

  “Sure.” She beamed a smile at him as he took his radio from his belt. “I bet your job’s fun.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Being around airplanes and everything, meeting exotic people. Having a radio in a holster. I bet it’s really fun. Did you have to do any special training for it?”

  “Uh, yes. Excuse me, I have to call this in.”

  “Sure. My name’s Valerie, by the way.”

  “I’m going to call my boss, all right?”

  “Why? Did you do something wrong?”

  “What? No, it’s not for me. It’s for you.”

  Valkyrie’s face fell. “What did I do?”

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “But the plane landed here.”

  “I mean, you shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be standing here. You should be further on.”

  “Oh,” she said, and laughed. “Sorry. God, I’m so dumb.”

  “We’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry.” His radio clicked and he spoke into it. “Anthony, it’s Sean. I’m down here with – hey.” Valkyrie walked by him and he caught up with her. “Where are you going?”

  She blinked at him. “You said I shouldn’t be here.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I’m just going to where I should be.”

  “Just hold on a second.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, you’re not, but—”

  “Are you going to arrest me?”

  “Arrest you? No.”

  “I just got lost. I got off the plane and there were so many people. Please don’t arrest me.”

  “Listen to me. I’m not going to arrest you, OK? I’m not a cop.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Am I sure I’m not a cop? Yes, I’m sure.”

  “You might be undercover.”

  “I still think I’d know if I were a cop, though. I work for the airline. I’m not a Guard. I just work here.”

  “OK,” she said, and breathed out. “Sorry. I panic sometimes.”

  “It’s fine. Were you travelling alone?”

  “No, there were other people on the plane.”

  “I mean, are you travelling with someone? A friend or family member?”

  “Oh. No. Just me. Where do I collect my bag?”

  “At the Luggage Section. Do you know where that is?”

  “Is it up those stairs?”

  “It is. First you come to Passport Control, then you pick up your luggage, and then you exit Customs.”

  Valkyrie smiled. “Thank you. You’ve been really helpful.”

  He nodded. “Sure. Just… try not to get delayed again, OK?”

  “I’ll do my best!” she laughed, and skipped up the stairs.

  She moved onwards without encountering anybody else. Passport Control was quiet. Directly opposite her, across the open floor, was a glass wall, and beyond that she could see a crowd of people who had just passed through. Among the bright shirts and colourful dresses and blue jeans there were people in black, some in jackets, some in coats, some carrying bags and some not, walking apart so as not to attract attention. Necromancers. She peered round the door, to her right, where two cops were sitting in booths, chatting across to each other as they waited for the next influx of travellers. Valkyrie darted to the empty booth closest to her, using the air to rise over the barricade. She dropped gently to the other side and ran, crouched over. She sneaked behind the booths where the cops were sitting, and out into the corridor. Now she sprinted after the crowd of passengers.

  She caught up with the ones lagging behind, the ones for whom this long walk was just proving too much. They puffed and wheezed with red faces, fat droplets of sweat running down their cheeks, travel cases trundling along behind like sulky children. She ran under the sign that pointed to the Luggage Retrieval area. She doubted the Necromancers would have any bags to collect. They weren’t here for a holiday, after all.

  She barged through a small group of people, got to the top of the stairs and leaped. People around her cried out in alarm, but she didn’t have time to waste. She waited until the last moment to cushion her landing, hit the ground and rolled. She ignored the disapproving headshakes, immediately catching sight of the Necromancers on the far side of the baggage belts. She took off, using the air to nudge people from her path. She jumped on to a conveyer belt that wasn’t moving, slid across the highest point and jumped down the other side. An airport official stepped into her path and she jammed her hand against his chest. His cheeks bulged and he stumbled back as she vaulted on to the next conveyer belt. This one was moving, full of luggage. She almost tripped, but made it to the centre and scrambled over to the other side, leaped off and into a crowd of startled civilians. The Necromancers hadn’t noticed the commotion. She ran to intercept them as they headed for the Exit, coming to a sharp halt in front of the Necromancer leading the march.

  The Necromancers stopped, each one of them suspicious. Valkyrie held up a hand while she doubled over.

  “Sorry,” she gasped. “Let me… get my breath… back.”

  They didn’t try to move around her. Their eyes were on the ring on her finger.

  “You have instructions?” the lead Necromancer asked.

  She breathed deeply, in through the nose, out through the mouth, and straightened. “Yes,” she said. “You’re… not needed. You’re to… go home.”

  “High Priest Tenebrae sent a student to tell us this?”

  She nodded, and shrugged.

  “What’s happened? Is the Death Bringer OK?”

  “False alarm,” she said. “Wasn’t the Death Bringer. Just a girl… looking for attention. You’re to go home at once and… sorry for the inconvenience. Naturally, we’ll refund your air fare.”

  A female Necromancer frowned at her. “Who instructs you in the Temple?”

  “I’m not really in the Temple that much,” Valkyrie said, her breathing under control now. “Solomon Wreath is my mentor.”

  “Oh,” the woman said. “Well, that would explain the lack of formality.”

  “Even so,” said the lead Necromancer, “Cleric Wreath ought to know better than to send a student with information like this. If the High Priest wishes us to return to London, he can send someone of higher rank to tell us.”

  They went to walk by her, but Valkyrie jumped in front of them again. “Actually, no,” she said, “he was quite insistent. Everyone’s busy. Sanctuary a
gents are everywhere and they’re putting pressure on and all the Clerics have their hands full and—”

  The lead Necromancer glared at her. “Step aside, girl.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the airport official she had shoved. He was jogging over, flanked by two cops.

  “Fine,” she said to the lead Necromancer. “I’m not a Necromancer. My name’s Valkyrie Cain. I work with Skulduggery Pleasant. And I’m here to tell you that we’re about to drag the Death Bringer into custody and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  The Necromancers stared, and almost as one they reached for her, anger flashing across their faces. Then the cops were there, standing between them.

  “That’s her!” the official said. “That’s the girl who hit me!”

  “I’m sorry,” Valkyrie said to the cops, looking as frightened as she could. “I lagged behind. They don’t like it when I lag behind.”

  The cops frowned at her, then turned to the Necromancers.

  “Is she with you?” the first cop asked.

  The lead Necromancer scowled. “No. I’ve never seen her before. You can keep her.”

  He went to walk on, but the cops blocked his way.

  “Just hold on a minute there, until we get this sorted out. She’s dressed the same as you.”

  “So?”

  “It’s a little odd, isn’t it?”

  “Not for us.”

  “It’s like a uniform,” Valkyrie said, making her voice shake. “They make us wear black. It’s for the church.”

  The second cop looked back at her. “Everyone here is part of a church?”

  She nodded. “We call it a church, yes. Other people call it a cult. I shouldn’t be talking to you. They don’t like it when I talk to outsiders. They’re afraid I’ll tell people about their plans.”

  The cops turned to the Necromancers, and the airport official backed away.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to come with us,” the first cop said. “Just to answer a few questions.”

  “That won’t be possible,” the lead Necromancer said. “We have somewhere to be.”

  “I’m afraid I have to insist.”

  The lead Necromancer ignored him, turning his eyes to Valkyrie. “Are you sure you want to do this? In front of all these people? In front of security cameras? Because we’ll do it. The world is about to change – we could start that change right here and now.”