Scepter of the Ancients

  “Tell me where you are,” China Sorrows said. “I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

  Fourteen

  ELEMENTAL MAGIC

  CHINA SORROWS WAS very still. She sat with her legs crossed at the knees, hands flat on the arms of the chair. The sounds of the city at night did not seep into her apartment—they were alone in here, the only two people left on the face of the Earth. Stephanie watched her and waited.

  The apartment was vast, occupying the space across the hall from her library. Stephanie had leaped out of the car China had sent, run up the stairs, and been directed in here by the man in the bow tie. No time had been lost. Skulduggery was in danger, and they needed to get him back now.

  China spoke at last. “How can you be sure it was Serpine?”

  “What?” Stephanie said, exasperated. “Of course it was Serpine! Who else could it have been?”

  A delicate shrug of delicate shoulders. “We have to be sure, that’s all.”

  “I am sure, okay?”

  China looked at her, and Stephanie felt ashamed of her impatience. She lowered her eyes and closed her mouth. She was so sore, her body was so sore, but it was all right now, because she was safe, and China would know what to do. Everything would be okay. Stephanie would wait for her to make a decision, no matter how long she deliberated, and she felt sure that Skulduggery would be safe and well. Even if he wasn’t, what did it matter? China knew what was best, and if she wanted to wait, then Stephanie would be happy to wait with her.

  No, she said to herself, that’s the spell, that’s China’s spell working on me. She dragged her eyes up, met China’s gaze, and thought she saw a flicker of surprise.

  “What are you going to do?” Stephanie asked.

  China rose from the chair in one graceful movement. “I will see to it,” she said. “You should go home, dear; you look dreadful.”

  Stephanie felt herself blush. “I’d rather stay,” she said.

  “It could take some time before plans are in place. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in familiar surroundings?”

  Stephanie didn’t like disagreeing with China, but she couldn’t go home, not while Skulduggery was in trouble. “I’d rather stay,” she repeated softly.

  “Very well,” China said with a small smile. “I must leave, but I’ll return when I have news.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “I’m afraid not, child.”

  Stephanie nodded, hiding her disappointment.

  China left the building, accompanied by the man in the bow tie. Stephanie stayed in the apartment for a while, but despite the fact that it was almost three in the morning, she couldn’t relax. There was no TV, and the only book in a language she could read was a leather-bound address book on a small table.

  She crossed the hall and stepped into the library. She passed a man in a porcelain mask, too engrossed in his reading to notice her. She walked slowly, reading the titles on the spines of the books, trying to keep her mind occupied. If she could find something here, a book that had what she needed, then maybe she wouldn’t be so helpless next time she went up against Serpine, or anyone else. If she’d had even a slight bit of power, she might have been able to help Skulduggery.

  She followed one shelf to its end, then chose another one, wandering deeper into the labyrinth. She couldn’t work out the system—the books weren’t arranged alphabetically, or by author, or even by topic. It all seemed completely random.

  “You look lost.”

  She turned. The young woman who had addressed her slipped a book back into its place. She had tousled blond hair and was pretty, but her eyes were hard, and she wore a sleeveless tunic that showed her strong arms. She spoke with an English accent.

  “I’m looking for a book,” Stephanie said, unsure.

  “This would seem to be the place for that.”

  “Are there any books here on magic?”

  “They’re all books on magic,” the young woman replied.

  “I mean learning magic. I just need something. Anything.”

  “You have no one to teach you?”

  “Not yet. I don’t know how to find anything in here.”

  For a moment, Stephanie felt she was being studied. Finally, the young woman spoke again. “My name is Tanith Low.”

  “Oh, hi. I’m afraid I can’t tell you my name. No offense.”

  “None taken. The books are arranged in terms of experience. These are far too advanced for someone without instruction. Two rows over, you might find what you need.”

  Stephanie thanked her, and Tanith walked away, disappearing in the maze of shelves. Stephanie found the section she was referring to and started scanning the titles. An Introductory Guide to Monster Hunting, The Sorcery Doctrines, A History So Far, Three Names …

  Stephanie took Three Names from the shelf and flicked through it. She came to the part on taken names, a chunk of the book that went on for roughly two hundred pages, and scanned the headings in bold print. She turned pages, skimmed paragraphs, looking for anything that stood out. The best advice it had for taking a name was this: “The name you take should fit you, define you, and already be known to you.”

  She put the book back, unimpressed, and scanned a few more titles before she found it: Elemental Magic. She took it down, opened it, and started reading. This was it. This was what she was looking for. She found an old chair in one corner and sat, bringing her legs up under her.

  Her mobile phone was perched on the arm of the chair. Stephanie held her hand closed, trying to think of the space between her hand and the phone as a series of interlocking objects. Moving one would move another, which would move another, which would move the phone. She focused, opened her hand slowly, and then snapped her palm, as she had seen Skulduggery do.

  Nothing happened.

  She made a fist, then tried again.

  The phone stayed where it was. Just as it had done the previous fifty times she’d tried.

  “How’s it going?”

  She looked up as Tanith Low approached.

  “You’re starting off too big,” Tanith said. “A phone’s too heavy. A paper clip would be enough.”

  “I don’t have a paper clip,” Stephanie said.

  Tanith took the book from her, opened it, and balanced it on the arm of the chair. “Use that,” she said.

  Stephanie frowned. “But that’s even heavier than the phone.”

  “Not the book. Just the page.”

  “Oh,” Stephanie said. She concentrated again, flexed her fingers, and splayed her hand. The page didn’t turn. It didn’t even lift.

  “It takes time,” Tanith said. “And patience.”

  “I don’t have time,” Stephanie said bitterly. “And I’ve never had patience.”

  Tanith shrugged. “There’s always the possibility that you just can’t do magic. It’s one thing to know it exists—it’s quite another to be able to do it yourself.”

  “I suppose,” Stephanie said.

  “That’s some bruise you’ve got there.”

  Stephanie glanced at her arm, to where the sleeve had risen. “I had a bit of trouble,” she said.

  “So I see. Did you give as good as you got?”

  “Not really,” Stephanie admitted. “But most of the bruising was done by a tree anyway, so …”

  “I’ve fought just about every type of opponent you could name,” Tanith said, “but I’ve never been attacked by a tree. Well done.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tanith dug into her pocket, coming out with a piece of yellow porous rock. “Run a bath, let this dissolve. A few minutes in there, the bruises will be gone.”

  Stephanie took the rock. “Thank you,” she said, and Tanith shrugged.

  “I don’t want to scare you, but this mightn’t be the best time for someone to start learning magic. Bad things are happening.”

  Stephanie didn’t say anything. She didn’t know anything about Tanith, and she didn’t know how many sides there were i
n the coming conflict. She wasn’t about to start trusting perfect strangers.

  “Thanks for the rock,” she said.

  “Not a problem,” Tanith responded. “We warriors have to look out for one another.”

  Stephanie saw movement through the stacks—the man in the bow tie was back. Which meant China had returned.

  “I have to go,” she said at once, getting up off the chair.

  * * *

  She found China in the apartment, her back to Stephanie as she approached.

  “Have you told the Elders?” Stephanie asked.

  “Word has been sent,” China said without turning.

  “You sent word? That’s it?”

  “Do not presume to question me, child.”

  Stephanie glared at her. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me ‘child.’”

  China turned. “And I really wish you would pick a name, so I wouldn’t have to.”

  “Why aren’t we going to the rescue?”

  “Going to the rescue?” she said with a laugh. “On our horses, is that right? With bugles sounding and flags flying? You think that’s how it works?”

  “Skulduggery has come to my rescue.”

  “Well, they don’t make them like him anymore, do they?”

  “Sending word isn’t good enough. Meritorious has to be told. Tell him that we need Skulduggery to get the Scepter, tell him that without Skulduggery Serpine will destroy everything, tell him whatever you want, but we have to make the Elders act!”

  “And then what? They call the Cleavers to action, they call their allies together, and then we all go merrily along to war? Child, you know nothing about war. You think it’s big and it’s loud and it’s good versus evil. It’s not. War is a delicate thing; it requires precision. It requires timing.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “Not so. Time is in short supply, but we still have it.”

  “So you’re delaying? Why?”

  “I cannot have chaos erupting around me until I am prepared for it. I am a collector. I am an observer. I don’t participate. My resources, and my standing, must be secure before I can allow the uncertainty of war to crash down upon us.”

  “And what about Skulduggery? While you’re waiting for the right moment to tell everyone Serpine is the bad guy, Skulduggery might be killed!”

  The hesitation that flickered across China’s face was barely noticeable. “There are casualties in every conflict.”

  Stephanie hated her. She turned and stormed back to the open door.

  “Where are you going?” China called after her.

  “I’m going to do what you’re too scared to do yourself!”

  “No, you’re not.”

  The door slammed shut before Stephanie reached it, and she spun around. China was walking toward her, her exquisite face perfectly calm.

  “You have no right,” China said softly, “to plunge us all into war. Who are you to decide when we fight? Why should you decide when we die?”

  “I just want to help my friend,” Stephanie said, taking a step back.

  “Skulduggery is not your friend.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And you don’t know him, child. He has anger in him like you have never seen. He has hatred in him that you would never dream about. There is not one place he would rather be than where he is right now.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “He told you how he died, then?”

  “Yes,” Stephanie said. “He was killed by one of Mevolent’s men.”

  “Nefarian Serpine killed him,” China said. “He tortured him first, purely for fun. He ridiculed him and he stripped him of his powers. And then he pointed at him. Did you know that’s all it takes, with that red right hand of his? For him to point, and then it’s all over?”

  Agonizing death, Skulduggery had said. Stephanie hadn’t realized he had felt it himself. She shook her head defiantly. “That doesn’t change anything.”

  “When he came back, he fought Mevolent’s forces with a single-minded determination—not to defeat evil, but to have his revenge on Mevolent’s lackey. Mevolent himself fell, but just as Skulduggery was in a position to claim his vengeance …”

  “There was the Truce,” Stephanie said slowly.

  “And suddenly his enemy was a protected citizen. Skulduggery has been waiting a long time to get his revenge, and he will risk anyone and anything in order to get it.”

  Stephanie stood up straighter. “Even if you’re right, that doesn’t change the fact that he has been the only one investigating my uncle’s murder, or that he seems to be the only one around here who cares about what is really going on, or that he has saved my life.”

  “And put it at risk. Every good thing he has done for you has been canceled out by every bad thing he has done to you. You don’t owe him anything.”

  “I’m not going to abandon him.”

  “It is hardly your choice.”

  “What are you going to do?” Stephanie challenged.

  “I am simply going to ask you to do what I say.”

  “Then the answer’s no.”

  “My dear Stephanie …”

  Stephanie froze. China looked at her. “I’ve known your name since before I met you, child. Your uncle spoke of you often.”

  Stephanie lunged for the door, but it was no use.

  “Stephanie,” China said softly. Stephanie’s hands dropped to her sides, and she turned. “Tell no one of this.”

  Stephanie felt it inside her and knew she would obey; knew no matter how much she raged against it, she would obey. She had no choice. So she nodded as tears stung her eyes, and China smiled that beautiful smile of hers.

  Fifteen

  THE TORTURE ROOM

  THE MOON AS OUT and the stars were twinkling and it really was a beautiful night for pain.

  Serpine descended into the castle’s cold, dank depths and strode through the stone corridors. Already he was beginning to smile. He came to the heavy wooden door and paused with his hand over the latch, savoring the deliciousness of the moment.

  The latch raised, the door opened, and Serpine stepped in. “Here we are again,” he said.

  Skulduggery Pleasant raised his head, practically the only part of his body he could move. Serpine had placed a binding spell on the shackles that secured him to the chair, and so, unable to use magic, the detective could only watch as Serpine closed the door behind him.

  “Life is a cycle, isn’t it, Skulduggery? We are all destined to repeat ourselves, over and over. You, at my mercy. Me, merciless.”

  “You, talking,” the detective said. “I thought you’d have grown out of the whole villainy thing by now, Nefarian.”

  Serpine smiled as he sat in the wooden chair opposite. The room was small, with stone walls and a single light-bulb hanging from the ceiling. “Being a respectable citizen wasn’t for me, but then, you knew that, didn’t you? You warned them about me, but they didn’t listen. That must have been annoying, for the Elders not to even respect you enough to take you seriously.”

  “I think it’s because I’m always smiling.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Oh, Skulduggery, what am I going to do with you?”

  “Untie me?”

  Serpine laughed. “Maybe later. We always seem to be at each other’s throats, don’t we?”

  “Let me ask you a question. Let’s pretend, just for a moment, that we live in your world, where things are crazy and the Faceless Ones are real. When you call them, what do you hope to gain? A pat on the head?”

  “How my lords and masters will reward me for my servitude is up to them. I would never presume to guess.”

  “The door is closed, Nefarian. Just us two guys in here, chatting. What’s in it for you?”

  Serpine leaned in. “I get to be by their side when they raze this world, when they expunge the stain of humanity. And when it’s over, I get to bask in their terrible glory.
”

  Skulduggery nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t a clue what you just said.”

  Serpine laughed.

  “You’re going to fall,” Skulduggery continued.

  “Really?”

  “You’re going to fall hard, and I’m going to be there. I’ll be the one pushing you.”

  “Big talk from the man tied to the chair. Or are you even a man? A thing, perhaps? An oddity?”

  “They’ll come for you.”

  “Who will? The Elders? Meritorious and his lot? Please. They’re too busy worrying about being rude to me.”

  “Not after this. They’re probably at your doorstep as we speak.”

  Serpine stood, walked behind his captive. “Somehow I don’t think they would be able to marshal their forces so quickly. Or so efficiently. No, my old enemy, I think for the moment, anyway, we’re all alone. And you have something I want.”

  “A winning sense of style?”

  “The key,” Serpine said as he walked back into the detective’s line of sight.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Serpine was moving his left hand slightly, like he was conducting music. “Obviously you’re not going to just offer up the information, so I think a spot of torture is required.”

  “Ah,” the detective said. “Old times.”

  “I remember those dark autumn days that I’d while away, cutting you, making you cry out.”

  “Fun for the whole family.”

  “You may think my options would be limited, as far as torture is concerned, especially now that you don’t have skin to cut. But I’ve picked up a few new tricks that I think you’ll enjoy.”

  Serpine moved his fingers in a wave motion, directing it at the chair he had just been sitting on. The wood creaked and groaned as it expanded and contracted, as if it was breathing. The detective couldn’t avoid looking at it.

  “If I can do that to the chair,” Serpine said, enjoying the moment, “think what I can do to bone.” There was a loud crack as the chair splintered.

  Serpine hunkered down in front of him. “Well, Skulduggery? Where is that tired old defiance—the taunting, the goading? Where are the endless heroic clichés? Aren’t you going to look me in the eye and tell me to do my worst?”