Midnight

  “I study magic,” Militsa said. “It’s what I do. It’s what I love. But, when I look at sorcerers who’ve been alive for centuries, I start to ask questions. About whether or not it’s worth it.”

  “I am so not getting this.”

  Militsa laughed. “Never mind. I’m talking nonsense!”

  “No, no,” said Valkyrie, “come on. What do you mean?”

  Militsa hesitated. “They lose something, I think. The more lifetimes go by, the less … human they become. I don’t mean that in a bad way – at least, not in general. But I think there’s a sacrifice you make when you embrace magic.”

  “Maybe there is,” Valkyrie said, “but I don’t agree with you about the less human thing. Yeah, OK, China’s a bit of a mystery, but Skulduggery’s a good person.”

  “To you.”

  “To the world, which he has saved a few times.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “I’m not offended. Really.”

  “I just think … there’s a price to pay. We’re not immortal, and yet compared to the mortal people we grew up with, our old friends and neighbours, compared with those poor people from the Leibniz Universe, immortal is exactly what we are. And I think there’s a sacrifice we have to make in order to live like that. A piece of yourself you cut away. How else are you going to be able to watch the mortals in your life grow old and die while you stay young?”

  Valkyrie smiled, and leaned forward. “I do not wish to think about this right now.”

  Militsa leaned forward, too. “I do not blame you. Let us never speak of it again.”

  “That works for me, gorgeous.”

  Militsa blushed. A blush on a redhead was extremely noticeable.

  “You’re scarlet,” Valkyrie said, and laughed.

  “Shut up,” Militsa replied, looking away, to the front of the café. “Oh, thank God. A change of subject.”

  Valkyrie looked round. Skulduggery nodded to her from the door.

  She smiled at Militsa. “Be right back,” she said, and joined Skulduggery outside.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Sore. Did you manage to speak with China?”

  “I did not. I should have stayed at the clinic. I should have been there when you woke.”

  “What for? You’ve seen me in one hospital bed, you’ve seen me in them all. I looked into her head, you know.”

  “Abyssinia?”

  “I took her by surprise, I think. She … It’s like she opened the door into my thoughts, but instead of her walking through into my mind, I barged straight into hers.”

  “What did you see?”

  Valkyrie hesitated.

  Skulduggery nodded. “You saw me.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. I kind of used you as an anchor to get through her memories. I saw you put on Vile’s armour, I saw the night you stabbed her and threw her out the window … It’s weird because it was me. I was experiencing her memories as her, so it was me you stabbed.”

  “Oh. That’s most unfortunate. I sincerely apologise.”

  “I’m over it.”

  “That’s good to know. Did you happen to see if the child …”

  “Is really yours? I didn’t. Do you think he could be? You told Abyssinia you don’t remember everything you did as Lord Vile. I didn’t know that.”

  “There are periods that are hidden to me,” Skulduggery said. “Blank spots in my recollections.”

  “But you remember everything.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Skulduggery … is Caisson your son?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Would you want him to be?”

  Skulduggery watched a tram pass, and didn’t answer.

  “Militsa’s waiting for me,” Valkyrie said. “Call me in the morning, OK?”

  “I will. I’m glad you’re alive, Valkyrie.”

  “Me too.”

  She went back inside.

  31

  Omen waved frantically, but neither Skulduggery nor Valkyrie saw him, so he sat back in his seat, oddly dejected. A fellow tram passenger glared at him disapprovingly.

  The tram stopped at Shudder’s Gate and he went the rest of the way to the City of Tents on foot. Sorcerers passed without even glancing at him, and the Cleavers stood silently on either side of the path. He could see his own reflection in their visors. He looked nervous, and his shirt had come untucked.

  He tucked it into his jeans again, tried to smooth down his hair, and fixed his eyes straight ahead as he walked. He didn’t particularly like his reflection. It reminded him of what other people were seeing when he’d much rather forget about things like that.

  There was a fence now surrounding the camp, but he found the entrance and made his way to the market. He went up to Aurnia at her stall.

  “Hi,” he said, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face. “How are you? You look really nice.”

  “Hi, Omen,” Aurnia said. She sounded deflated at the prospect of their date, and, as much as he couldn’t blame her, he did kind of feel hurt. Still, he pressed on.

  “I was thinking that I could take you on a tour of Roarhaven,” he said. “There are some really cool parts, especially around the Arts District, that are just awesome.”

  “I can’t go.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Oh, OK, that’s fine.”

  “No, I mean I can’t physically go. They won’t let me.”

  “Who?” Omen asked. “The village leaders?”

  “We don’t have village leaders,” Aurnia said. “That was a joke. But no, it’s not any of my people. The Greycoats won’t let us through.”

  “The Cleavers? Why not?”

  “We’re not allowed to leave the camp without official supervision. I think they’re worried that we won’t go back, or maybe that we’ll steal something or cause trouble.”

  “But you’ll be with me.”

  “I mentioned your name to the man in the uniform. He asked if you were the Chosen One, then another man in uniform said no, the Chosen One’s name was Auger, and he didn’t know who you were.”

  Omen sagged. “I get that a lot. Well, maybe you can show me around the camp, instead? Maybe I could meet some of your friends?”

  Aurnia hesitated, and not in a good way.

  “Or not,” said Omen.

  “My friends don’t understand,” Aurnia said. “My family doesn’t, either.”

  “Understand what?”

  “You. To them, all sorcerers are the same. They’re all dangerous. I tried explaining that you’re not like that. I told them about you. I told them what you were like.”

  “Oh, really?” Omen said, trying not to smile. “What did you say?”

  “I told them you were harmless.”

  He frowned. “Well, I mean … I’m not harmless. Harmless is, like, a puppy, or a … baby cow.”

  “It’s called a calf.”

  “I’m not a calf. I mean, I’m no threat to you, or them, but I’m …”

  “I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

  “No, no, of course not. But I’ve done stuff. Brave stuff. A few months ago, my life was in danger and I was fighting. I even broke a guy out of prison.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “No, no, he was a good guy, and it was a bad prison. My point is, I’m not … I don’t want you to think that I’m boring. I mean, yes, most of the time, I’m nothing, but I am capable of more.”

  “I’ve hurt your feelings.”

  “You haven’t.”

  “I have. I’m really sorry.”

  Omen shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Really. I actually know some pretty important people – I could talk to them. I’m sure I can arrange something. And, even if I can’t, the Cleavers aren’t going to keep you confined forever, right? Once everything is cool, you’ll be able to, like …”

  “Go free,” Aurnia said.

  “Well … yeah.”

  “Maybe we will. If we’re
allowed.”

  “It’s really not like that, though. They’re keeping you all in one place because it’s safer.”

  “For who? We can’t hurt you. You’re sorcerers.”

  “Safer for you, then.”

  “I thought you said we were safe here.”

  “You are, but some people, they don’t know if they can trust you. Just give them time, I swear, and they’ll realise that you’re not a threat and everything will be cool.”

  Aurnia nodded slowly, and stepped back.

  “It was … very nice seeing you again,” said Omen.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t know what else to say, so he gave her a little wave, and walked back to Shudder’s Gate. He took a tram back to school, but at the stop at the Circle he saw his brother sprint past. Omen jumped up, squeezing through the doors right before they closed. Already Auger was disappearing round the corner.

  Omen ran after him, followed him into a side street and lost him down an alley. Omen chose a turn at random, then another, and was about to give up and head back when he heard the unmistakable sounds of fighting.

  Unable to think of any use he might actually be in a fight, Omen nonetheless followed the sounds down a narrow canyon of brick and cement, stepping through stagnant pools of water, his fists clenched, his heart beating madly.

  Suddenly there was a rush of footsteps and then Mahala was there, her eyes glowing green, and she barged into him, and Omen hit the wall and she sprinted on. She’d barely even noticed he’d been there.

  “Omen,” said Auger, limping up. “What are you doing here?”

  Omen scrambled up. “I saw you,” he said. “I thought I’d come and see if you needed any help. Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine,” Auger said. His shirt was ripped. “Did you see Mahala?”

  Omen nodded. “Her eyes were doing that glowing thing you talked about.”

  Auger sighed. “Yeah. That’s proving to be a problem.”

  Kase shuffled by, his face a mess of cuts and bruises. “Hey, Omen.”

  “Hi, Kase,” Omen said, and Kase shuffled on.

  “Since you offered,” said Auger, “you mind helping me walk for a bit? I’m already healing, but I could use the assist.”

  “Sure,” said Omen, and took his brother’s weight as they made for the street. “And hey, you know what you’re doing and everything, and I don’t want to intrude where I don’t belong … but shouldn’t you call someone? Like, not even Skulduggery or Valkyrie, but the City Guard, maybe?”

  “We were going to,” Auger said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the City Guard are not the most thoughtful of people. This is Mahala we’re talking about. It’s going to take some pretty weird magic, a few more punches to the face, and some good old-fashioned friendship, but we’re going to help her and we’re going to banish whatever’s possessing her back to whatever hell it came from.”

  “Right,” said Omen. “Yeah, I can understand that. Do you need any help?”

  Auger laughed. “Dude, from what I’ve heard, you’ve got enough on your plate already.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I heard about Axelia.”

  Omen sighed. “Of course you did.”

  Auger smiled. “She’s a cool girl. A smart girl.”

  “Smart enough to turn me down.”

  “Hey now, come on, don’t be hard on yourself.”

  “Ah, I’m OK about it. I knew she was going to say no.”

  “So you knew it was going to end badly, but you still had to try, huh? I will never understand people who say we’re not alike.”

  They emerged from the alley. Kase was waving a green amulet about. It started to vibrate in his hand.

  “She went this way,” he said.

  Auger stood on his own. “We gotta go.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” asked Omen.

  “We’ve got this,” said Auger. “Kase, you agree?”

  “We’ve got this,” said Kase.

  “And what’ll I say if the teachers start asking where you are?”

  Auger grinned. “Just tell them we’re back where we belong,” he said, and Kase laughed and they started jogging away.

  Omen watched them go, and didn’t bother wondering what the hell Auger was on about.

  32

  Skulduggery called at a little after nine the next morning, shaking Valkyrie from a dream.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  “No,” she croaked.

  “It sounds like I woke you.”

  “Hold on.” She grabbed the bottle of water from her bedside table, downed what was left. “OK,” she said. “I can talk now.”

  “Abyssinia has Caisson.”

  Valkyrie sat up. “Dammit,” she muttered.

  “Five dead sorcerers,” Skulduggery said, “all connected in some way to Serafina, were recovered in Italy yesterday evening. The private ambulance was empty.”

  “So she has him. Well, that’s wonderful.” Valkyrie sighed. “What do we do now?”

  “We talk with China.”

  “Any idea why she’s been avoiding us?”

  “A few,” he said. “If I can’t arrange something by the end of the day, I’m kicking down doors until I get to her.”

  “Well,” Valkyrie said, getting slowly out of bed, “you have fun kicking those doors, OK? I’m still recovering from getting stabbed in the heart.”

  “You didn’t get stabbed in the heart.”

  “Close enough.”

  “It was five centimetres away.”

  She went to the mirror, examined the bandage. “Five centimetres isn’t very much when you’re getting stabbed,” she said. “Anyway, today I’m recuperating, and spending time with my sister.”

  “What if I require your assistance?”

  “Temper will help you.”

  “Temper has his duties. What if I require your assistance?”

  “If it’s really important, give me a call.”

  “What if I’m bored and just want someone to talk to?”

  “Then you need more friends.”

  “Most of my friends are dead.”

  “And that’s exactly the cheery start to the day I’ve been looking for.”

  She hung up.

  Xena was waiting for Valkyrie when she went downstairs. She poured fresh food into the dog bowl and had her breakfast, then went walking through the woods that surrounded the house. Xena disappeared into the undergrowth, darting across her path every now and then on the trail of some mysterious scent.

  Valkyrie had a late lunch, got in the car and drove to Haggard, where she parked across the road from her old primary school and walked up to the gate, barely resisting the urge to go in and take a look around. There’d been an extension built since she was a pupil here, which essentially tripled the size of the place. She wondered if her old classroom was the same, or if her old teachers were still there.

  More cars pulled up and parents walked over. The end of school was approaching.

  “Stephanie?”

  Valkyrie turned as Hannah Foley came forward, clad in yoga pants and a hoody, her blonde hair tied back into a ponytail. Valkyrie realised they were hugging a few seconds after it started.

  “Ohhhhh,” Valkyrie said. “Hi …”

  Hannah stepped back, hands on her stomach and a smile on her face. “How are you? Janey Mac, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

  “Janey Mac indeed,” said Valkyrie. The way Hannah was patting her belly, it was like she was inviting Valkyrie to comment on the rather obvious pregnancy. Instead, Valkyrie said, “So what have you been up to?”

  “Well, I’m pregnant!” Hannah said, laughing. “I know what you’re thinking: again? I just can’t get enough of it! I didn’t know you had a child here.”

  “I don’t,” said Valkyrie. “I’ve got a sister.”

  “A sister?” Hannah said, clearly astonished. “What age is she?”

  “Seven.”

/>   “That’s quite a gap!”

  “I suppose so.”

  “So tell me about you, Steph! What are you doing with yourself?”

  Valkyrie kept her smile. “Keeping busy.”

  “At what? Sure, you don’t even need a job, do you? Don’t you have your uncle’s money? I remember everyone talking about that back in school – we were all so jealous that you were a millionaire. We couldn’t understand why you kept coming in, though!”

  Valkyrie nodded along while Hannah laughed, and said, “Money can’t buy friendship.”

  “Ah, now this is true,” Hannah said. “And it can’t buy happiness, either, isn’t that what they say?”

  “I’ve definitely heard it said.”

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I imagine it was wonderful to suddenly be rich – but wait till you start having children, Stephanie – then you’ll find out what real happiness is.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m due to pop with this one in six weeks – though, knowing me, it’ll probably arrive a few days early!”

  She laughed again, like that was funny, and Valkyrie sneaked a glance at her watch.

  “No engagement ring, I see,” Hannah said, calming down. “Is there no one special in your life, or has he just not bothered to get a claim in?”

  “I’m not looking to get married,” said Valkyrie.

  “Oh, you should, Stephanie, you should! Marriage was the best thing that ever happened to me – after becoming a mom, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Finding someone special, sharing your life with them, bringing life into the world … That’s true happiness. You can have all the money you ever wanted, you can have millions and billions, but if you don’t have a family of your own, what’s the point, isn’t that right?”

  Valkyrie gave a tight-lipped smile and shrugged with her eyebrows.

  Hannah took in Valkyrie’s car. “Is this yours? A bit too flashy for me. You wouldn’t fit a baby seat in the back! That’s mine over there, the people carrier. We’re determined to fill it, as you can probably tell!”

  “You certainly have a lot of children.”

  “It’s hard work, believe me. On one level, I envy you. Your time is your own, you have no responsibility, you can head off on holiday whenever you want – but there is no way I would trade places. I just wouldn’t. You look like you don’t believe me!”