Midnight

  “I’m … I’m sorry,” she said. “You just looked like you were going to try to kiss me.”

  “Did I? I wasn’t. Well, no, I was. I mean, I was going to ask if I could. But, obviously … I can’t.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Aurnia, and she looked genuinely sad. “There’s a boy that I’ve liked for a very long time, and I didn’t think he liked me back. But then he heard about you and that made him come up and tell me that he did like me, and he asked if we could … I don’t really know what the word for it is here.”

  “Go out?” Omen ventured.

  “Is that it? He asked if we could go out? So … I said yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this. I didn’t know it would happen. But I’ve liked him my whole life and he’s … I suppose he’s one of us …”

  “And not a sorcerer,” said Omen.

  “No. He’s not. It’s easier. My parents, especially, they didn’t understand … you.”

  “I get it,” Omen said.

  “You’d like him, I think. He’s just like you. He’s funny and smart and so nice. You’d really get along.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Can we still be friends?”

  Omen looked away for a moment, then back. “I would love that,” he said.

  Aurnia smiled. “Good. It was nice seeing you again, Omen.”

  “You, too.”

  He watched her walk off. After a while, he became aware of someone standing beside him.

  “Rough,” said Axelia.

  Omen laughed. “Don’t worry about me.”

  She frowned at him. “You keep saying that. You keep telling people not to worry about you. Why is that?”

  “Uh …”

  “Do you want to know what I think?”

  “Not if it’s going to be mean.”

  “I think you don’t view yourself as someone who is worth worrying about. I was talking about you with my friends.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Shush. We’ve come to the conclusion that Auger got all the attention and all the affection growing up, and maybe you were starved of it as a child and now you walk around, not believing that you deserve any for yourself. That’s what we think.” She shrugged. “We might be wrong.”

  “I … I thought your friends hated me.”

  Axelia frowned. “Why would they hate you? You’re lovely. You’re nice to absolutely everyone. The whole school likes you.”

  Tears, actual tears, came to his eyes. “What?”

  “You’re so silly,” she said, and walked on, giving out pamphlets to the mortals who passed.

  80

  After Reverie had given both of the Edgley sisters the all-clear, Valkyrie got changed into a clean set of clothes and drove back to Haggard in a car she’d borrowed from the High Sanctuary. Alice chatted the whole way like she hadn’t just been through the absolute worst kind of hell. Valkyrie didn’t know how she did it.

  They got to the house, and Valkyrie followed her little sister into the living room where Kes was waiting with her arms folded. She responded to Valkyrie’s look of delighted surprise with a glare.

  Alice got halfway across the room when she froze.

  Valkyrie frowned. “Alice? You OK?”

  Alice turned slowly.

  “What’s wrong?” Valkyrie asked. “Alice, talk to me.”

  “I think,” Alice said at last, “that I need to pee.” She scrunched up her face, and nodded. “Yep.” Then she ran off to the bathroom.

  Valkyrie breathed out. “For a second, I thought she could see you.”

  “How awful that would be,” Kes said. “I’m alive, by the way. No thanks to you.”

  “I knew you’d survive.”

  “Yeah? Because I didn’t. It took everything I had to heal myself, and for the rest of the night I had to just lie there on the pub floor. The City Guard came and they kept stepping on me and through me and I wasn’t even strong enough to crawl into the corner.”

  “Thank you,” said Valkyrie.

  “Whatever.”

  “No, seriously – thank you. I needed you to do something incredibly risky and you did it. That means a lot.”

  Kes grunted. “You got the munchkin back, then.”

  “Yeah,” Valkyrie responded, smiling. “You should’ve seen her – she was so brave.”

  “What are you going to tell the folks?”

  Valkyrie hesitated, and Kes laughed.

  “You’re going to lie to them, aren’t you?”

  “I think it’s the wisest thing to do,” said Valkyrie.

  “And do you think Alice will be able to maintain that lie?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest – but what choice do I have? If they find out what happened … I don’t know what they’d do.”

  Kes shrugged. “Maybe they’d figure it’s safer for Alice to grow up without her big sister around that much.”

  “Yeah,” said Valkyrie. “Maybe.”

  “They’re probably right.”

  “No,” Valkyrie replied. “This was a one-off. No one has

  gone after my family like this before this, and no one will after this.”

  “Tell that to Carol.”

  “That was different. That was … That won’t happen again.”

  “You know what?” Kes asked as Alice came back in. “You sound like you’re trying to justify what you’re doing.”

  “Do you want to see my dancing?” Alice asked.

  “You sound like you know you’re wrong and that you’re being selfish and that the best thing for the people you love is to stay as far away from you as possible—”

  “Stephanie? Do you want to see my dancing?”

  “– but you can’t bring yourself to do it, can you?”

  Valkyrie forced herself to smile at Alice. “Yes,” she said. “I would love to see your dancing.” A happy smile on her face, Alice ran off.

  “I just got back,” Valkyrie said quietly. “I spent five years without them. Without her. I can’t do it again.”

  “You could quit,” said Kes. “Wouldn’t that be the best compromise? Living your life as a normal person would make sure that no one comes after your family ever again. So retire. Leave magic behind. Leave Skulduggery behind.”

  A car pulled up outside. The Bentley.

  “But you can’t do that, either, can you?” Kes asked. “Because you’re addicted. You’re addicted to magic and you’re addicted to him.”

  “I can handle it,” said Valkyrie. “I can make sure my family is safe from now on.”

  “I like you, Valkyrie,” said Kes. “You’re my only friend in the whole entire world, so I’m kinda forced to like you. But you’re not being honest with yourself.”

  The doorbell rang, and Kes disappeared.

  “It’s Skulduggery!” Alice yelled out from the hallway. “Stephanie, it’s Skulduggery!”

  The sound of a door being opened, and Alice’s excited chatter mixing with Skulduggery’s velvet tones, and Valkyrie stood there, burying her anxiety and her doubts and her fears in a big hole in her mind and filling it in, shovelful after shovelful, faster and faster, until she could turn and smile as they both came into the room.

  “Skulduggery’s here!” Alice exclaimed, leading Skulduggery by his gloved hand. “He has a face!”

  “I called at your house,” Skulduggery said. “I thought you might be here. Am I interrupting?”

  “No,” said Valkyrie, “not at all. We’re waiting for Mum and Dad to get back. Alice was about to show me her dancing.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Alice said, and ran out of the room again.

  Skulduggery was wearing a navy three-piece. His façade flowed away. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Sore,” she said, holding up her bandaged hand. “And I look like a bus hit me. Apart from that, I’m fine. How’s Temper?”

  “Patched up and walking around. I paid a visit to that country house, by the way. I found the maze and plenty o
f blood, but no sign of the Wild Hunt or their victims.”

  “What about my clothes?”

  “No sign of them, either, unfortunately.”

  She sagged. “But Ghastly made them for me.”

  Alice came in, tapping the screen of a tablet. “Found it,” she said.

  Skulduggery hunkered down next to her. “And how are you feeling, Alice?”

  She looked at him. “I’m fine, thank you. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, too. How did you sleep last night? Did you have any nightmares?”

  Alice shook her head.

  “Were you scared, at all?”

  “No,” Alice said. “The bad man is gone, isn’t that right, Stephanie?”

  “That’s right, sweetie,” Valkyrie said.

  “Can I dance now?”

  “Of course.”

  Alice put the tablet down and a song played. She started dancing.

  Skulduggery stood beside Valkyrie and they watched the performance. “She seems to be in good spirits,” he said softly.

  “She is,” said Valkyrie. “She’s going to tell Mum and Dad that we played games and danced and watched movies yesterday. She says she’s not going to mention anything that happened.”

  “Do you think she’ll be able to do that?”

  “She’s coping really well so far. I don’t see why not.”

  “And do you think this is the wisest course of action to take?”

  Valkyrie sighed. “Not you, too.”

  He tilted his head. “Who else has been talking to you about this?”

  “No one,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it, like …”

  “Hey!” Alice called. “You’re not watching!”

  “We are,” Valkyrie assured her. “Sorry. Continue.”

  Alice went back to dancing.

  “Anyway,” Valkyrie continued, “I think she’ll be able to keep the secret.”

  The song ended, and another began, and Alice hesitated. “I don’t know the dance for this one.”

  “Make it up,” said Valkyrie. “Like this.” She took Alice’s hand and started dancing, and Alice laughed and did her best to copy her big sister’s moves.

  “When did you learn to salsa?” Skulduggery asked, clearly amused.

  “I learned all sorts of things when I was away,” Valkyrie replied, and held out her hand to him. “Come on. I’m not doing this on my own.”

  Alice laughed again when Skulduggery took Valkyrie’s hand. She danced with them for a verse or two, then broke free and started doing gymnastics across the floor. Skulduggery spun Valkyrie out, pulled her back in, and they danced like that, Valkyrie enjoying every single step despite her aches and pains.

  “Mommy!” Alice yelled, suddenly sprinting from the room.

  Valkyrie turned off the music, glanced at Skulduggery for moral support, and followed her sister out into the hall just as the front door opened. Her mother swept Alice into her arms.

  “Hello there!” she said.

  “Mom! Did you miss me?”

  “I did, I did, so much.”

  “Did anyone miss me?” Desmond asked, closing the door behind him.

  “I did, Daddy!”

  “Well, that’s nice to hear. Did you have a good time with Stephanie?”

  Valkyrie tried to fix a smile on to her face, but it wouldn’t attach properly.

  Alice nodded vigorously. “I slept in my own room at Stephanie’s house,” she said. “And we played games and I played with Xena. Can we get a dog?”

  Desmond groaned. “Should’ve known this would happen.”

  “I’d really like a dog like Xena. Stephanie, does Xena have a sister or a brother?”

  “I don’t think so, sweetie,” Valkyrie said.

  Her mum’s eyes widened when she took a proper look at Valkyrie. “Oh God. What happened?”

  Valkyrie smiled. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Your face is–”

  “I’m fine, Mum. Really.”

  There were suddenly tears in Melissa’s eyes that she quickly blinked away. “Well, OK, you know what you’re doing,” she said with a smile as fake as Valkyrie’s. “Is Skulduggery here? We saw his car outside.”

  “I’m just leaving,” Skulduggery said, stepping out of the living room, wearing a new façade.

  “Oh, you don’t have to leave,” said Valkyrie’s mum.

  “I have business to attend to,” Skulduggery said. “It was very nice seeing you again. Alice, an absolute pleasure as always.”

  Alice grinned at him. “Bye, Skulduggery.”

  Valkyrie followed Skulduggery out, closing the front door behind her. If she’d spent another moment with her mother she would have burst out crying.

  “Alice handled that well,” she said, thankful to focus on something else as she walked him to the Bentley. “She even added that bit about Xena. She’s a born fibber, that girl – I should probably be worried.”

  “You probably should,” Skulduggery said quietly.

  Valkyrie frowned at him. “Everything OK?”

  The façade melted from his skull. “You’re right,” he said. “Alice handled that well. She handled it very well. Impossibly well.”

  Valkyrie shrugged. “She’s an Edgley. Impossible is our thing.”

  “Any other child of that age – any other person of any age – would probably be traumatised by what happened. Alice is not traumatised. She’s happy.”

  “What’s wrong with that? She’s always happy.”

  “You’ve mentioned that before, actually. The fact that she’s always happy. Can you think of an instance when she wasn’t happy?”

  “Why?”

  “Indulge me.”

  “Kind of a weird thing to indulge you with.”

  “Please.”

  Valkyrie sighed. “Sure, OK. Um …”

  “Have you ever seen her cry? I don’t mean from a grazed knee or a stubbed toe. Have you ever seen her cry because she’s sad, or upset, or angry?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “When?”

  “Well, I mean … I can’t remember exact— OK, I don’t think I have, but so what? I’ve been gone for most of her life. What are you getting at, Skulduggery? You’re starting to freak me out a little.”

  “Have you ever used your aura-vision on her?”

  Valkyrie stared at him. “Why would I do that?”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I just know that Alice should not be as happy as she is – not after everything that’s happened to her.”

  “You think there’s something wrong with her?”

  “Yes.”

  Anger boiled, mixed with the dread that was suddenly coursing through Valkyrie’s veins. “What do you …? What do you expect me to see?”

  “I’d prefer not to say.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No,” he said. “Not until you look.”

  She was shaking. Her knees were trembling. She clenched her jaw to stop her teeth from chattering.

  Somehow she turned; somehow she walked back towards the house. She peered through the living-room window. She could see them in the kitchen, her parents and her sister, talking and laughing. She tried to turn the aura-vision on. Tried again. It wouldn’t work. No, it would work – she just didn’t want to do it.

  She forced herself to switch it on, and she peered in again. Her parents shone with a strong yellow light – warm and healthy.

  But Alice … Alice didn’t have a light.

  Valkyrie staggered back from the window. “No,” she said. “No. No.” Skulduggery caught her and she pulled away from him. “What is it? What’s wrong with her?”

  “What did you see?” he asked.

  “She doesn’t have a c-colour,” Valkyrie stammered. “She doesn’t h-h-have one. What’s wrong with her? What did he d-do to her?”

  “This wasn’t Cadaverous,” Skulduggery sa
id. “This isn’t a recent thing.”

  “Wh-what are you talking ab—?”

  She stopped. She couldn’t feel her body. She couldn’t feel the tears that she knew were running down her cheeks.

  “I did it,” she said. “When I killed her and brought her back … I damaged her. She doesn’t have a soul because of me.”

  “Valkyrie—”

  He reached for her and she took a step back. Energy crackled between her fingers. She could feel it behind her eyes. Building.

  “Valkyrie,” Skulduggery said, “listen to my voice. It’s going to be OK. You just … you just have to calm down.”

  She shook her head. The energy was all around her now, building like a scream, and then it tore loose and she shot off the ground, into the air, lightning trailing behind her. She clutched her head and twisted, shrieking her pain and her rage and her guilt, spinning through the sky, into the clouds, roaring her grief at the planet that curved beneath her.

  81

  He found her hours later, huddling on one of the tiny islands off the Haggard coast. Her clothes were scorched, and hanging off her. Her trainers had burst apart. She didn’t remember them doing that.

  He dropped from the sky gently, quietly, and took off his jacket. He draped it over her shoulders, and sat beside her. They watched the water lap at the small, stony beach.

  “What have I done?” she whispered.

  He put his arm round her, and pulled her tight. “We’ll fix her,” he said. “We’ll make her better.”

  82

  Flanery didn’t like to be in the Oval Office past five at the very latest, but it was nearing midnight and he was still here, still sitting behind his desk, still being president. Sometimes he took a few moments out of his day to think about how far he’d come in his sixty-seven years, from the son of a humble millionaire to a self-made billionaire to the leader of the free world, and he couldn’t help but wonder how his life would have turned out if he’d made different choices.

  But he didn’t think about it for too long. Introspection was for losers.

  Wilkes knocked on the door and Flanery called him in.

  “I was just checking to see if there’s anything you need before I punch out?” Wilkes said, smiling like an idiot.

  Flanery smiled back. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I think I’ve got everything under control. Don’t you?”