Death Bringer

  Alice gurgled.

  Valkyrie took her baby sister back inside the church, made her way over towards her folks. Her aunt emerged from the crowd, hair pulled back off her face, pinching it tight. It was not a good look.

  “Hello Stephanie,” Beryl said. “You’re holding her wrong.”

  “She seems pretty comfortable,” Valkyrie responded, making sure she said it politely.

  Beryl reached out thin hands. “No no no, let me show you.” But, as usual, Alice’s spider-sense picked up the incoming threat and she turned her head, saw Beryl’s suddenly smiling face and wailed. Beryl recoiled sharply, fingers twitching. When their aunt had retreated to an acceptable distance, Alice stopped wailing and glomped her gums on to a button on Valkyrie’s top.

  “She’s been grumpy all day,” Valkyrie lied, pleased with how things had turned out. Beryl made a noise in her throat, obviously unimpressed with her brand-new niece. Valkyrie jerked her head back slightly. “Mum and Dad are over there,” she said. “They’ve been wanting to talk to you. Mum said earlier what a lovely dress you’re wearing.”

  Beryl’s eyebrows wriggled like two tiny tapeworms. “This?” she said. “But I’ve had this for years.”

  It was a beige dress that would have looked better on an eighty-year-old. Any eighty-year-old, man or woman.

  “I think you’ve really grown into it,” Valkyrie said.

  “I always thought it was a little shapeless.”

  Valkyrie resisted the urge to say that was what she meant.

  Beryl broke off the conversation as she usually did, without any warning whatsoever and with her husband trailing after her. Hilariously, Fergus nodded to the baby as he passed, as if Alice was going to nod back, but he reserved a look akin to a glare for Valkyrie. She hadn’t a clue what that was about.

  She watched Carol and Crystal walk towards her, and prepared herself for the onslaught to come. In the past, she would have been expecting poorly thought-out taunts and flatly executed jibes from her cousins at a time like this. These days, unfortunately, it was a whole lot worse.

  “Hi Valkyrie,” Carol whispered.

  Crystal jabbed Carol with an elbow. “Don’t call her that!”

  Carol glared. “I whispered it. No one else could hear.”

  “You still shouldn’t call her that! Call her Stephanie!”

  A few more precious moments of life were sucked away from Valkyrie’s grasp, never to be seen again.

  “Fine,” Carol said, not looking pleased. “Hello, Stephanie. How are you?”

  “I’m doing good,” Valkyrie replied, talking quickly in an effort to hijack the conversation and steer it towards calm and unexceptional waters. “How are you guys? How’s college? Looking forward to the summer holidays? Crystal, I love your shoes. Your feet fit really well into them. Doesn’t Alice look adorable?”

  She turned slightly so that they could see the baby. They both murmured something about cuteness, and then it was as if Alice didn’t even exist.

  “We were thinking,” Carol said, and both twins stepped closer so they wouldn’t be overheard. “You know the way you said we were too short to learn magic? Well, we’re not sure that we are. You started to learn magic when you were shorter than we are now, didn’t you? And also, elves.”

  Valkyrie blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “Elves,” said Crystal. “You know, with the pointy ears? They’re pretty small, aren’t they? I know in some movies they’re regularsized, but mostly elves are small, and they can do magic.”

  “Uh, elves aren’t real,” Valkyrie said.

  Carol sighed at her sister. “Told you.”

  Crystal glared back, then looked again at Valkyrie. “Why aren’t they real?”

  “I’m not sure I can, uh, answer that.”

  Crystal looked confused. “What about goblins?”

  “Oh,” Valkyrie said. “Yeah, OK, goblins exist. Right, listen, it’s not a height thing, it’s a danger thing. The fact is it isn’t safe. I’ve been beaten up more times than I can count. I’ve had bones broken and teeth broken and five months ago I was technically dead for half a day. I even had an autopsy done on me.”

  “What was that like?”

  “Unsurprisingly unsettling.”

  Carol’s eyes gleamed. “But you get to do magic, and save the world, and hang around with cool people.”

  “And have friends,” Crystal added.

  “And what do we get to do? We get to go to college and do exams and get spots and we don’t get to have boyfriends.”

  Valkyrie attempted a smile. “I get spots too, you know. Everyone does. And you’ve both had plenty of boyfriends.”

  Crystal shook her head. “Not like Fletcher. He’s nice.”

  “And I wouldn’t call them boyfriends, either,” mumbled Carol. “Stephanie, we just want what you have. We want to have fun and we want to have powers and do exciting things. We’ve been talking, and we’ve decided that we want you to teach us magic.”

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “And we really do.”

  “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I just don’t have the time. Tanith is still out there, and she’s got a Remnant inside her, and she’s with Billy-Ray Sanguine and she knows much too much about my life and my family. I need to find her and get her some help, and I’ve also got to stop the end of the world and… It’s just not safe to start showing you things.”

  “Just a few tricks,” Crystal pressed.

  “They’re not called tricks,” said Valkyrie.

  “Illusions, then.”

  “They’re not illusions.”

  “Spells?”

  Valkyrie hesitated. “OK, you can call them tricks.”

  “Just show us a few small ones,” said Carol, “like flying.”

  “Flying is not one of the small ones.”

  “Can you fly yet?”

  “No, I can’t. Skulduggery’s the only one who can.”

  “Maybe he’ll teach us.”

  Valkyrie couldn’t help it, she had to smile. “I doubt that very much.”

  The twins suddenly started fixing their hair, and Valkyrie knew that Fletcher had arrived.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said to them while his left arm wrapped round Valkyrie’s waist.

  “Hi, Fletcher,” the twins said in unison.

  “Having a good christening?” he asked. “I’ve never been to one and I have to admit, it seems kind of… well, boring. But in a nice way.”

  “I found it really boring too,” Carol said before Crystal had a chance. “And I didn’t understand most of what the priest was saying.”

  “I wasn’t even listening,” Crystal said. “It was something about babies, I think. I really like your hair today. You have it sticking up really nicely.”

  “Don’t encourage him,” Valkyrie groaned. Fletcher laughed, and gave her a quick kiss.

  “Unfortunately,” he said, “we have to go for just a moment.”

  “We do?” Valkyrie asked. He nodded to her, all serious. “Ah,” she said. “OK. Yeah. Guys, we have to go.”

  Carol’s eyes widened. “Is there trouble? Are we in danger?”

  “Is the world ending?” Crystal asked. The twins looked up at the church ceiling, like they were expecting to see it crack and fall in on top of them.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Valkyrie said with a chuckle. She headed over to her parents, Fletcher beside her. “They don’t have to worry about it, do they?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll be OK for another few days.”

  “Did you find Bernadette Maguire’s house?”

  “Skulduggery’s there right now, waiting for me to return with you.”

  She grinned at him. “Was it a nice drive?”

  “It took two hours,” he grumbled. “And he wouldn’t let me speak. Do you know what it’s like to be driving for two hours and not be able to speak?”

  “No. What’s it like?”

  “It’s
boring.”

  She nodded. “I could probably have guessed that.”

  They reached her parents, and Valkyrie’s mum lit up when Valkyrie passed her Alice.

  “Here she is,” her mum said, cooing at the baby, “my special girl.”

  “Oh, cheers,” Valkyrie said, rolling her eyes.

  Her mum laughed. “Hello, Fletcher, when did you get here?”

  “I just arrived,” he said. “Sorry. The bus service on a Sunday is awful.”

  “You should have called us – Desmond could have picked you up.”

  “No, I couldn’t have,” Valkyrie’s dad said, stepping into earshot. “Sorry, Fletcher, but I had important fatherly duties to take care of, which included eating breakfast, showering and finding my trousers. Of those three, I only managed two. Without looking down, can you guess which one I missed?”

  Valkyrie’s mother sighed. “Des, it’s too early in the day for your nonsense. Fletcher, will you be joining us for the post-christening lunch?”

  “Yes, I will,” Fletcher smiled back. “I just have to borrow Stephanie for a moment.”

  “Take our daughter,” Valkyrie’s dad said, waving his hand airily. “We have another one now.”

  Valkyrie laughed, leading Fletcher through the crowd. They left the church and walked round the corner. When they were sure they weren’t being watched, Fletcher turned to her, kissed her, and the moment their lips touched, they teleported. The church and the grass and the sunshine vanished, replaced by a cottage being lashed by rain.

  Valkyrie broke off the kiss instantly and leaped sideways to the Bentley, which was under the cover of a tree. Fletcher joined her.

  “The sun is splitting the stones in Haggard,” she said, glaring. “Don’t you think staying dry will be kind of important for when we teleport back?”

  “You make a good point,” Fletcher conceded. “See, there’s a reason why you’re the girl and I’m the boy. You think about things, while I…”

  “Don’t?”

  “Exactly,” he said happily.

  Skulduggery walked towards them from the cottage, his gloved hand raised to divert the rain around him. His suit was impeccable, his hat cocked just right. His face was sallow-skinned, but as he neared he tapped the two symbols etched into his collarbones, and his features flowed away, revealing the skull beneath. “Sorry to pull you away,” he said to Valkyrie.

  She shrugged. “I was there for the christening itself. Once that’s done with, it’s just a family get-together, and Christmas is enough for me. Is the old lady home?”

  “I knocked on windows and doors, but there’s no answer,” he said. “We’ll have to let ourselves in.” Fletcher held out his hands, but Skulduggery shook his head. “Relying on teleportation is making us lazy, so we’re going to do this the old-fashioned way. Valkyrie, would you mind keeping the rain off ?”

  He turned, started walking back to the cottage. Valkyrie hurried after him, raising her arms, moving the air into a shield.

  “You should really get used to manipulating water instead of relying on air all the time,” he told her. “One of these days you’re going to wish you’d practised more. There’s very little point in being an Elemental sorcerer if you only use two elements.”

  “But air and fire are the handiest,” she said, pretending to whine. “Manipulating moisture just doesn’t grab me that way. And as for earth…” She trailed off.

  They reached the front door and Skulduggery knelt, working the lock pick. Fletcher stood behind Valkyrie, trying to avoid the raindrops that got through her defence.

  “And yet,” Skulduggery said, “your Necromancy lessons are continuing without interruption, are they not?”

  “Well, yeah, but I need more lessons in Necromancy because Solomon isn’t as good a teacher as you are.” He looked at her and she grinned, then shrugged. “Besides, most of the training I do with you these days is combat. I’ll get the Elemental stuff back on track, I promise.”

  Skulduggery grunted. Ever since Tanith Low had been lost to a Remnant, he had changed what he’d been teaching Valkyrie. There was no way she’d be able to match Tanith’s speed and agility, so going up against her using pure martial arts would end in disaster. The new stuff she’d been learning was ugly, brutal and effective – combatives, not martial arts. It had taken Valkyrie a while to adjust, but the threat of Tanith’s return had spurred her on. A rematch was inevitable, she knew, so when she did go up against Tanith again, she was making damn sure that it wasn’t going to be on Tanith’s terms.

  The lock clicked, and Skulduggery stood up and opened the door, then poked his head in. “Hello? Mrs Maguire? Anyone home?” He waited. No answer. He stepped inside, Valkyrie following. His hair suddenly in danger of getting wet, Fletcher hopped in after her. Aside from the steady rhythm of the rain, the cottage was quiet. It was orderly, and smelled of old person. Valkyrie took another step and the ring on her right hand grew colder.

  “Someone’s dead in here,” she whispered.

  Stepping slowly and carefully, they entered the living room, where small porcelain figurines lined every surface and an old woman sat in an armchair, very dead.

  Skulduggery took out his gun.

  “Wait a second,” Fletcher said, his eyes widening. “Look at her. This was natural causes. She was old. Old people die. That’s what old people do.”

  Skulduggery shook his head. “There was someone else here.”

  He motioned them to stay put, and left the room. Fletcher looked at Valkyrie searchingly, but all she could do was shrug. After a few moments, Skulduggery came back in and put his gun away.

  “How do you know there was someone else here?” she asked.

  He nodded behind him as he took a small bag of rainbow dust from his pocket. “Notice the figurines. Horrible little things, aren’t they? Little cherubs, cheap and tasteless. See how they’re so lovingly arranged, evenly spaced, all looking outwards? Now look at the ones beside you.”

  Valkyrie looked down. Fat little figurines, holding harps and little bows and arrows, were positioned haphazardly along the edge of the cabinet. “They fell,” she said, “and someone put them back in a hurry. Someone who didn’t care enough to face them all in the same direction.”

  Skulduggery broke up the lumps in the powder. He took a pinch and threw it into the air. It fell gently in a small cloud, changing colour as it did so. “Adept magic was used,” he murmured. “Hard to tell what sort. But it was recent.”

  “How recent?” Valkyrie asked.

  Skulduggery put the bag away. “The last ten minutes.”

  Fletcher glanced over his shoulder. “So the attacker could still be in the area?”

  Skulduggery took out his gun again. “Always a possibility.”

  Valkyrie patted Fletcher’s arm. “Don’t worry,” she said. “If the bad man comes, I’ll protect you.”

  “If the bad man comes,” Fletcher responded, “I’ll bravely give out a high-pitched scream to distract him. I may even bravely faint, to give him a false sense of security. That will be your signal to strike.”

  “We make a great team.”

  “Just don’t forget to stand in front of me the whole time,” he said, and then yelled. Valkyrie jumped and Skulduggery whirled, and Fletcher pointed at the window. “Outside!” he blurted. “Bad man! Outside!”

  Skulduggery charged, thrust his hand against the air and the window exploded outwards. He jumped through, Valkyrie and Fletcher right behind him. The rain pelted them, made the ground muddy. A bald man in black slipped on the trail that led into the woods, fell to his hands and knees. He cast a quick glance behind him. He had a long nose and a ridiculous goatee beard that ended in wispy trails far below his chin. He fumbled with something they couldn’t see, and then sprang up. He slipped and slid, but kept on running, leaving a wooden box open on the ground behind him.

  “Back,” Skulduggery said. “Back inside the house. Move!”

  Valkyrie went first, vaulted through the
broken window, landing just as Fletcher teleported in. Skulduggery came last, flattening himself against the wall.

  “Hide,” he whispered.

  They ducked down.

  The rain battered the cottage. Valkyrie risked a look up at Skulduggery.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “It’s a box,” he whispered back.

  “What kind of box?”

  “A wooden one.”

  She gave him a look. “OK, I’ll try this. Why are we hiding from a box?”

  “We’re not. We’re hiding from what’s inside the box.”

  “What’s in the box?”

  “Is it a head?” Fletcher asked.

  “It’s the Jitter Girls.”

  He peeked out. Valkyrie raised herself up slightly so she could see over the windowsill. The wooden box sat there on the trail in the mud and the rain.

  “Who are the Jitter Girls?” she asked.

  “Triplets,” Skulduggery said. “Born in 1931. When they were six years old, something tried to get into this world through them.”

  “Through them?”

  “It planted seeds in their minds, changed them mentally and physically. It dragged them just out of step with our reality, tried to make them a conduit through which it could emerge.”

  “What are we talking about here?” Fletcher asked. “A Faceless One?”

  “No,” Skulduggery said, “I don’t think so. This was something else. Their parents panicked. Doctors couldn’t help. Remember, this was Ireland in the 1930s, cut off and isolated from a world that was advancing around it. Everyone thought the children were possessed by the devil. They tried exorcism after exorcism, but the girls just got worse. Then I was called.”

  “Could you help?” Valkyrie asked. She took another peek. The box was still just a box.

  “They were too far gone,” Skulduggery said. “They spent a year in agony, twisting and squealing while strapped to their beds in the asylum.”

  “Good God.”

  “Their parents came in every single day. They’d sing to them. Nursery rhymes and old Irish songs. There was nothing I could do. The thing, whatever it was that was using them, I think it realised its plan wasn’t going to work. So it retreated. It went away, left them alone. They died soon after.”