Death Bringer

  Skulduggery slowed, and she did the same. They extinguished their flames, letting their way be lit by the shafts of silver light that worked their way down from the surface.

  “We’re waiting,” called a voice, echoing playfully towards them.

  Skulduggery grunted, and they stood up straight and walked forward. They emerged from the tunnel to stand atop a gentle slope that led ten feet down to the cavern floor. On the other side of the cavern stood Melancholia and Vandameer Craven.

  “Now this is funny,” Melancholia continued. Her eyes were red. “We were hurrying along, Vandameer and I, and a thought struck me. Why am I doing this? Why am I running? I can understand why Vandameer runs – he’s a weakling who’s afraid of practically everything you’d care to mention. But me? Who do I have to run from? So I stopped running, and turned, and look who appears…”

  “Melancholia,” Skulduggery said, “we don’t want to hurt you.”

  Melancholia laughed. Her laugh echoed. “You actually believe you can stop me? The two of you? I killed three hundred of the world’s most powerful sorcerers in the blink of an uncaring eye. What makes you think, even for a moment, that I won’t snuff out your weak, flickering flames just as quickly?”

  “Because,” Skulduggery said, “to do that, you need a moment or two of concentration. And we don’t plan on giving you that.”

  Melancholia laughed again. “You seem to know a lot about my powers, skeleton.”

  “Well, I should. I was the Death Bringer before you were even born.”

  “I’m not sure I get the joke.”

  “No joke,” Skulduggery said. “I was Lord Vile.”

  Valkyrie could see Craven’s frown from where she stood. “What are you talking about? We saw you and Vile in the same room!”

  “That wasn’t Vile,” Valkyrie told them. “That was Vile’s armour.”

  “I’m the real thing,” Skulduggery said. “So I know exactly what I’m talking about, Melancholia, because my powers were just like yours – except I came by mine naturally.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You can reach out with your mind, can’t you? You can sense the life around you, and you can reach for it. It’s like a bubble that keeps expanding and then, when you release, the bubble withdraws and drags all that life back to you, leaving the bodies to fall behind.”

  “It’s a death bubble,” Valkyrie said.

  “Don’t call it that,” said Skulduggery.

  She frowned at him. “Well, what do you call it?”

  Skulduggery hesitated.

  “See?” Valkyrie said. “Death bubble.”

  “Shut up,” Melancholia said. She narrowed her red eyes at Skulduggery. “You were Vile? But you’re an Elemental.”

  “As it turned out, I was what some people call magically ambidextrous. It’s rare. It’s exceedingly rare, in fact, and I didn’t even know it myself until after it happened. But during the war I got… lost. I was consumed by the endless battles and bloodshed, the terrible things I saw and the terrible things I did. I waded in blood and I emerged as… something different. Someone different. I put on the armour and found I had a real flair for Necromancy.

  “I shouldn’t have been surprised, I suppose. I had always been good with death. Pretty soon, they were proclaiming me to be the Death Bringer – and yet they wouldn’t tell me what the Passage actually entailed, other than it would save the world. They were talking about immortality. But I had no interest in saving the world. I had no interest in helping weak men and women live for ever. I wanted sudden and violent death for everyone. That’s why I joined Mevolent. Finally, I thought, someone who shares my appetite for destruction. I didn’t believe that the Faceless Ones were real, and even if they were I certainly didn’t believe he’d be able to bring them back, but a part of me hoped that he would. Because then I’d be able to kill an entire race of gods, after I was finished with people.”

  “You,” Melancholia said, “are a dark, dark man.”

  “Aren’t I just?”

  “So why didn’t you kill us all?” Craven asked.

  “I simply came to my senses. Do you know, do you have any idea, how many people I killed when I called myself Lord Vile? I don’t. But it was a lot. I killed whole battlefields. All that violent death, so tinged with fear and panic… it made me so, so strong. I could have cracked this world wide open. But I didn’t. One day, I just stopped. I walked deep inside a mountain, took off the armour, and I’ve been trying to make up for it ever since. I never will, of course. Such redemption is well beyond me at this stage. But I try. And stopping people like you, Melancholia, is how I try.”

  “So you do think you can stop me.”

  “I don’t want to fight you. I want you to give the people above us back their lives.”

  “I’m the Death Bringer, not the Life Giver.”

  “You’re neither, actually. You’re not even close to being as strong as I was. But you can still release the energy you stole from them.”

  Melancholia smirked. “And they’ll just return to life as if nothing happened?”

  “Their energy will seek them out, yes.”

  “You’re sure of this?”

  “Relatively sure.”

  “And why would I ever want to release this energy?”

  “Because if you don’t, we will fight you and we will kill you, and then the energy will return to them anyway.”

  Melancholia shrugged. “Then let’s fight and see what happens.”

  “You can still do the right thing.”

  “Do you want to attack first, or will I?”

  Skulduggery held up a finger. “Do you mind if I confer with my colleague for a moment?”

  “By all means.”

  Skulduggery leaned in towards Valkyrie. “Damn,” he whispered. “She’s not going to do the right thing.”

  “Did you really think she would?”

  “I was really hoping.”

  “Can we beat her?” Valkyrie asked.

  “I don’t like our chances.”

  “What are our chances?”

  “We don’t have any,” Skulduggery admitted. “Do you think you can take Craven on your own?”

  “No.”

  “Me neither. Do you want to leave him to me, then, and you can take her?”

  “I like that idea even less.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  She sighed. “We’re going to get killed, aren’t we?”

  “It looks likely. Our only hope is a surprise attack.”

  “They’re looking right at us.”

  “Dammit.”

  Skulduggery straightened up. “We have discussed the situation,” he said to them, “and decided that it would be in everyone’s best interests for me to fight you, Melancholia, and for both Cleric Craven and Valkyrie to stand back and cheer or boo as they see fit.”

  Valkyrie grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?”

  “We can’t win this,” he said softly. “And I would rather not watch you getting killed alongside me.”

  “Well, I’m not going to watch you getting killed, either!”

  “And yet I’m the one who said it first, so there’s precious little you can do about it.”

  “Who made up that rule?”

  “I did, just now.”

  “We accept your proposal,” Melancholia called across to them. “But after I kill you, I reserve the right to kill her.”

  “By which time I shall be past caring,” Skulduggery said. He slipped off his jacket. His gun hung heavy in the shoulder holster, but he didn’t reach for it. He folded the jacket, pressed it into Valkyrie’s arms. “Keep this as something to remember me by.”

  “I’m not going to just stand by and do nothing,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “You can, as I said, cheer my name, if you want.”

  “You must have some kind of plan, even a really bad one.”

  “Plans are like buses,” he said. “Sometimes they just don??
?t turn up when you need one.”

  He started down towards the cavern floor. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, Valkyrie,” he said over his shoulder. “You are quite a remarkable girl.”

  There were a hundred things she needed to say to him, needed to tell him, needed him to know. There were a thousand words she needed to speak, needed to whisper, needed him to hear. But she stayed quiet, and watched him descend. She’d tell him afterwards. When all this was done, when they’d saved the day and were joking about it on the drive home, that’s when she’d tell him. They had time. No matter how scared she was for him right now, they always had time.

  He reached the cavern floor, and Melancholia floated down on a gentle wave of shadows. They faced each other.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” she said.

  “I dare say I’m not,” Skulduggery responded.

  He strode towards her and she smiled, and her eyes glowed brighter, and he stiffened. His gloved hands fell from his wrists, and the bones of his arms slipped through his shirtsleeves to clatter to the rock floor. His knees buckled, his legs parting from his shoes as his body collapsed on to itself. His ribcage bulged against his shirt and his head hit the ground and rolled, the jawbone spinning away.

  Valkyrie breathed out, the air emptying from her lungs. She was still and quiet and cold. She was calm. Melancholia had taken Skulduggery’s soul. Without his soul, there was no magic to keep his body together. Now it was just a skeleton, just a heap of old bones. He was gone. He was gone and Melancholia had taken him from her.

  Melancholia smiled. “That was easy,” she said.

  Valkyrie breathed in, breathed in all her pain and anger and fury. She breathed in all those things she wanted to tell him, but now never could, all those words she wanted to say, but now never would. She breathed in her strength and her horror and her loss, let it fill her, let it fill every inch of her, and then she screamed, threw Skulduggery’s jacket to one side and jumped, using the air to propel her down towards Melancholia like a bullet. Melancholia laughed and flicked a hand, and the shadows rose to slam Valkyrie into the cavern ceiling. They vanished and she fell, trying to use the air to cushion her landing, but another shadow wrapped itself around her waist and yanked her sideways. A second flick of Melancholia’s wrist and Valkyrie was hurled into the wall. The impact forced the breath out of her, and she dropped and lay there, gasping.

  A shadow tightened around her ankle, and she groaned as she was lifted off the ground. She dangled, swaying, trying to breathe, upside down and at eye level with Melancholia.

  “Such an anti-climax,” Melancholia said. “Isn’t it? Can’t you feel it? With all the animosity between us, all those jibes, all that history… And here, right at the end, we have our final showdown and you… you are found wanting, as they say.” Melancholia leaned in. “Goodnight, Valkyrie. It’s been irrelevant.”

  The shadows rose around them, turned sharp, and Valkyrie snarled, grabbed Melancholia’s hair and slammed her forehead into that smirking face. White light exploded behind her eyes, the shadows vanished and Valkyrie fell as Melancholia stumbled back, howling in pain. Valkyrie blinked, struggling to get her bearings. She managed to get to her feet, but she was so dazed she fell to one knee again. Melancholia cursed and staggered around, blood pumping from her nose. She stumbled right in front of Valkyrie and Valkyrie lunged, smashed into her, taking her to the ground. She dropped elbows and palm shots, barely able to focus, only knowing that she couldn’t let up, not even to catch her breath.

  “Craven!” Melancholia cried. “Get her off me!”

  And still Valkyrie hit her, trying to get through the arms that Melancholia held up to protect her head. Not one thought was given to Craven. Craven wasn’t important. The only important thing was to smash Melancholia into unconsciousness.

  “Craven!” Melancholia screamed.

  A fist of shadows collided with Valkyrie, shunting her off, sending her sprawling. Melancholia clambered to her feet as Craven hurried over.

  “Are you OK?” he asked. “Is there anything I can—”

  Melancholia reached out, and a tendril of darkness coiled around Craven’s neck and tightened. “You were going to leave me,” she snarled, spitting blood. “You were going to let her kill me.”

  “No,” Craven gasped.

  “You wanted her to kill me, so that you wouldn’t have to try and do it yourself, didn’t you?”

  Craven dropped to his knees, his face red, his eyes bulging.

  Melancholia stood over him. “But you’re too much of a coward even for that, aren’t you? You couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t be able to finish me. You were terrified of what I’d do to you.”

  Craven was unable to speak. The only thing he could do was nod. The tendril released him and he fell forward, sucking in air.

  “You’d do well to remember that fear,” Melancholia said, as she turned back to Valkyrie. Blood covered her face. Her lips were split and her nose appeared to be broken.

  Valkyrie got up slowly, fists clenched. She suddenly flicked her hand, grabbing shadows of her own, but Melancholia brushed them aside. Darkness curled around Valkyrie’s arm and yanked the ring from her finger. It dropped to the ground and bounced, and Melancholia slammed her heel down on to it. The ring shattered, blackness flowing back into Valkyrie.

  “And that,” Melancholia said, “is the main flaw with Necromancy. Destroy the object and you have all that magic, but nothing to focus it with. Look at me. Do you see any reliance on an object for me? No. I am beyond all that. My body is all I need to focus my power.”

  “Congratulations,” Valkyrie said. “But you’re still going to die.”

  “And how do you think that’s going to happen? Are you going to try hitting me, like a barbarian? That won’t happen again, little girl. I underestimated your savagery, and you spoiled my good mood.”

  Valkyrie smiled. “You think I’ve spoiled your good mood? Then you’re really going to hate him.”

  Melancholia frowned and turned, and saw Lord Vile striding towards her.

  Chapter 54

  Monster, Murderer

  ile fired off sharpened shadows and Melancholia stumbled back, eyes wide in terror. “Help me!” she screamed.

  Craven stood with his mouth open, his feet stuck to the floor. Melancholia fell to her knees while Vile pummelled her. “Craven! Help me! Or I’ll kill you!”

  Craven raised his hands and Valkyrie pushed at the air, flinging him back. He went rolling across the floor and she ran in, aiming a kick at his head. He saw her coming at the last moment, covered up, taking the boot along his arms. He howled in pain and lashed out, a shard of darkness sliding uselessly across her jacket. Flame flared in her hand and she flicked it on to him. He shrieked as his robes caught fire. He tore the robes off and hurled them away, turning to face her wearing faded thermal long johns, his amulet bouncing on his chest.

  “I never liked you,” he sneered. “And now finally I get to—”

  She flicked her hand and his amulet flew from around his neck. He cried out and reached up for it as she stepped in and rammed her elbow into his chin. His head rocked back and he was unconscious even as he was falling.

  Valkyrie let the amulet drop and looked back as Vile stumbled. The shadows coiled and lashed around Melancholia’s feet. She wiped the blood from her face.

  “I’m not scared of you,” Melancholia said. “You’re only his armour, after all. You’re not the real Lord Vile. I killed the real Lord Vile.”

  Vile sprang, but a wave caught him, sent him spinning into the wall. That little victory boosted Melancholia’s confidence.

  “I’m curious as to how you’re still functioning without the skeleton, though,” Melancholia said. “I thought he was controlling you with his mind or something. No? That’s not it? You’re a little more independent than that?”

  Vile flung his shadows at her but she batted them down.

  “Oh well,” she continued, actually starting to smi
le now. “I suppose we’ll never know. You will remain a mystery.”

  Shadows detached themselves from the cavern ceiling and fell like javelins. Vile didn’t even see them coming. The first missed, but the second one caught him in his shoulder and kept going through his armour, impaling him to the floor. The third caught the calf of his leg. He stood there, trying to move away, trying to free himself, but the shadows were solid.

  Instead of gloating, as Valkyrie fully expected her to do, Melancholia doubled over, like she was trying to catch her breath. The shadows flexed suddenly and she grimaced.

  Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “You feeling OK, Mel? You don’t look too good. Do you want to lie down?”

  “Stop,” Melancholia hissed, “talking.”

  Darkness sprang from Melancholia and Valkyrie flinched, but it retracted before it hit her – retracted so violently that Melancholia stumbled.

  “It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?” Valkyrie said. “All those powerful sorcerers you killed, their energy speeding around inside you. I bet you can feel Skulduggery, can’t you? I bet you can feel him whirling around in there.”

  “He’s gone,” Melancholia said. “They’re all gone.”

  “I think you’re lying. You can feel him, can’t you? Buzzing in your ear? He wants to be let out.”

  Darkness rammed into Valkyrie and she went backwards, barely avoiding the slashes that followed, and then the shadows snapped back to Melancholia. The Death Bringer’s hands went to her head.

  “Let him out,” Valkyrie said.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure I do. You have his energy inside you. It’s hurting you. So let it out.”

  Despite her obvious pain, Melancholia laughed. “What do you expect will happen if I do that? You expect the skeleton to sit up?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I do.”