“Ghastly!” Skulduggery shouted. “Let’s go!”

  Ghastly slammed a punch into the Cleaver and rolled to his feet, but the Cleaver kicked out and Ghastly stumbled. The scythe flashed, the staff whacking against Ghastly’s jaw. He dropped to his knees.

  “Ghastly!” Stephanie screamed.

  Skulduggery opened his door and went to get out, but Ghastly raised his eyes, shook his head.

  “We’re not leaving you!” Skulduggery shouted.

  The Cleaver stepped up to Ghastly, ready to swing the scythe.

  “You’ve got to,” Ghastly said, ever so softly.

  He lowered his head and clenched his fists, his eyes closed. As the Cleaver swung, the ground seemed to latch onto Ghastly’s knees. It spread instantly, turning his legs to concrete, then his torso, his arms, his head, his entire body in the time it took the scythe to cross the space between them, and when the Cleaver tried to take his head, he could only chip at the neck. Stephanie instinctively knew what he’d done—this was the last Elemental power, earth, the power Skulduggery had described as purely defensive, and purely for use as a last resort.

  The White Cleaver looked directly at Stephanie as Skulduggery put the car in gear. They left them there—the White Cleaver and Ghastly—and sped through the city streets.

  Twenty-six

  THE LAST STAND OF …

  EACHAN MERITORIOUS waited in the shadow of Dublin’s Christ Church Cathedral, watching the world go about its business. There were times when he felt guilty about hiding magic from the masses, when he felt sure that they would embrace the wonder and the beauty if only they were given the opportunity. But then he would come to his senses and realize that humankind had enough things to be worrying about without a subculture that they might see as a threat to their very validity. As an Elder, it was his job to protect the outside world from truths they weren’t yet ready to know.

  Morwenna Crow walked up, her dark robes flowing over the grass. She was as clean and as elegant as the day he had first met her.

  “It’s not like Skulduggery Pleasant to be late,” she remarked.

  “Sagacious said he sounded urgent,” Meritorious said. “He may have run into some difficulty.”

  Morwenna looked around the corner of the cathedral, to the busy street beyond the railing. The bright lights, amber and yellow, framed her face. She seemed almost angelic. “I don’t like meeting out in the open like this. We’re too exposed. He should know better.”

  “Skulduggery picked this place for a reason,” Meritorious said gently. “I trust his judgment. He’s earned that much, at least.”

  They turned as Sagacious Tome appeared beside them, fading up from nothing.

  “Sagacious,” Morwenna said, “did Skulduggery say why he wanted to meet us here?”

  Sagacious looked nervous as the materialization completed and he became solid. “I’m sorry, Morwenna, he just told me to make sure both of you were outside the cathedral.”

  “This had better be good,” she said. “We don’t have a lot of time to spare these days. Serpine could strike anywhere, at any time.”

  Meritorious watched Sagacious smile sadly.

  “That’s very true,” Sagacious said. “And if I may, I just want to take this opportunity to let you both know that in the times when we were friends, they were great times indeed.”

  Morwenna laughed. “We’re not dead yet, Sagacious.”

  And then he looked at her, and his smile turned to something else. “Actually, Morwenna, you are.”

  The Hollow Men converged and Sagacious faded to nothing. Meritorious didn’t even have time to register the betrayal before he saw Serpine striding toward them, holding the Scepter. The Elder instinctively conjured a protective shield that made the air glimmer, but when the crystal flashed, the black lightning came right through the shield like it wasn’t even there. Then there was—nothing.

  The Administrator charged through a crowd outside the Olympia Theatre, drawing a chorus of angry shouts and curses. He stumbled but managed to stay up, managed to keep running. He glanced behind.

  He couldn’t see anyone pursuing him. He didn’t think he had been seen, but he couldn’t be sure. He had been standing by the car when Nefarian Serpine had appeared. He had seen Meritorious explode into dust and ash, seen the black lightning strike Morwenna Crow as she tried to rush her enemies.

  He had ducked down, terrified. Tome had betrayed them. Tome had betrayed them all. So the Administrator had abandoned the car and started running.

  He had to get back to the Sanctuary. He had to warn the others.

  Twenty-seven

  NO CALM BEFORE THE STORM

  SKULDUGGERY HAD GIVEN her money, and Stephanie had gone in to pay while he refilled the Bentley’s tank. As she waited for her change, she looked at the chocolate bars on display and tried remembering the last time she’d eaten chocolate. She always ate chocolate when something bad happened, but these days chocolate just wasn’t enough.

  Everything was going wrong. Tanith was injured, Ghastly was nothing more than a statue, and now they had the White Cleaver to worry about. It was getting to the point where Stephanie didn’t know why they were bothering to fight anymore, although she’d never say that to Skulduggery. He seemed to think she was like him—never give up, never surrender. But she wasn’t. The only reason she didn’t tell him this was that she liked the way he thought of her, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. But the truth was, the Valkyrie Cain he thought he knew was a lot stronger than Stephanie Edgley could ever be.

  She walked back outside. Skulduggery was slotting the petrol nozzle back into the pump. Tanith had gone to soak her hand in the same healing solution she had told Stephanie to use.

  Now that they were alone, Stephanie didn’t quite know what to say. Skulduggery screwed the petrol cap shut and stood there, perfectly still. With his hat on and his scarf hiding his jaw, it could have been a mannequin standing there for all the difference it made.

  “I’m sorry,” Stephanie said.

  He looked at her.

  “If it wasn’t for me, Ghastly would be … he’d be with us. It’s my fault he had to use the earth power.” She fought to keep her voice from trembling. “How long will he stay like that, do you think?”

  Skulduggery took a moment. “I sincerely don’t know, Valkyrie. It’s the most unpredictable power we have. He could be stuck as a statue for a day, a week, or a hundred years. There’s no way of knowing.”

  “I’ve ruined everything.”

  “No—”

  “That Cleaver was after me. Ghastly was forced to—”

  “Ghastly wasn’t forced to do anything,” Skulduggery interrupted. “It was his choice. And it wasn’t your fault. Serpine sent his assassin after you to hurt me. It’s what he does.”

  “He sent him after me because he knew I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. He knows you’re looking after me; he knows I’m your weak spot.”

  Skulduggery tilted his head. “Looking after you? Is that how you see this? You think I’m babysitting you?”

  “Well, aren’t you? I’ve got no magic, I can’t fight, I can’t throw fire or run on ceilings. What use am I to you? I’m weak.”

  Skulduggery shook his head. “No, you’re not. You haven’t trained in magic or combat, but you’re not weak. Serpine underestimates you. Everyone underestimates you. You’re stronger than they know. You’re stronger than you know.”

  “I wish you were right.”

  “Of course I’m right. I’m me.”

  Stephanie heard a phone ring as Tanith walked into the light of the forecourt. She had wrapped a bandage around her wrist. The magical properties of the healing mixture would already be working to reduce the swelling and mend the damage.

  Tanith held her phone to her ear. Stephanie didn’t like the way her face seemed to slacken as she listened to whatever was being said.

  She hung up without replying. “Skulduggery,” she said softly. “You have your phone
on?”

  “Battery’s low,” he said.

  “They’ve been trying to contact you. The Administrator, the Sanctuary.”

  “What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked.

  “The Elders,” Tanith said, her voice empty. “Sagacious Tome betrayed them. The Elders are dead.”

  Stephanie’s hand was at her mouth. “Oh God.”

  “Tome’s been working with Serpine all along. He’s a traitor. Like Bliss. They’re all traitors. Skulduggery, what are we going to do?”

  Stephanie looked at him, praying that he’d come up with a great new plan, a scheme to ensure victory and a happy ending. He didn’t answer.

  “Did you hear me?” Tanith continued, the emptiness in her voice giving way to sudden anger. “Are you even listening? Do you even care? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you want to die again, maybe you want to join your wife and child, but hey! We don’t want to die, okay? I don’t. Valkyrie doesn’t.”

  Skulduggery stood there. A mannequin. Silent.

  “Do you think we stand a chance against Serpine?” Tanith asked. “Tome? Bliss? That Cleaver? Do you really think we stand a chance against all of them?”

  “What do you suggest we do?” Skulduggery said, his voice slow and steady. “Stand back and let Serpine grow stronger? Stand back and let him recruit more allies, let him open the door and let the Faceless Ones come through?”

  “He’s winning, okay? Serpine is winning this war!”

  “No such thing.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no such thing as winning or losing. There is won and there is lost, there is victory and defeat. There are absolutes. Everything in between is still left to fight for. Serpine will have won only when there is no one left to stand against him. Until then, there is only the struggle, because tides do what tides do—they turn.”

  “This is insane—”

  He turned to her so sharply that Stephanie thought he might strike her.

  “I’ve just seen a very dear friend turn into a statue, Tanith. Meritorious and Crow, two of the few people in this world I respected, have been murdered. So yes, you’re right when you say our allies are dropping like flies, but this was never going to be an easy fight. Casualties are to be expected. And you know what we do? We step over them and we move on, because we don’t have any other choice. Now I’m going to stop Serpine once and for all. Anyone who wants to come with me, they’re welcome. Anyone who doesn’t, it won’t make a blind bit of difference. Serpine will be stopped, and that’s all there is to it.”

  He got into the Bentley and started the engine. Stephanie hesitated, then opened the passenger door and slid in. She glanced at Skulduggery as she buckled up, but he was staring straight ahead. He waited three seconds, then put the car into gear and was about to drive off when Tanith got in behind them.

  “No need to get all dramatic about it,” she muttered, and Stephanie managed to smile. Skulduggery pulled out onto the road, driving fast.

  “Where are we going?” Stephanie asked.

  “Weren’t you listening?” Skulduggery responded, sounding as if he was back to his old self. “We’re going to stop Serpine. I just made a whole speech about it. It was very good.”

  Tanith leaned forward. “You know where he is?”

  “Yes, I do. It came to me just there, as I was filling the tank.”

  “What did?”

  “The Scepter. Why did Serpine go after the Scepter?”

  Stephanie frowned. “Because it’s the ultimate weapon.”

  “And why did he want it?”

  “To, you know, to retrieve the ritual he needs to bring the Faceless Ones back, to force whoever knows it to tell him.”

  “No.”

  “He isn’t going to use it to retrieve the ritual?”

  “The Scepter’s too clumsy, too unwieldy. If he threatens to kill the only person in the world who knows how to work the ritual—what if that person chooses death rather than hand it over? What’s he supposed to do then? No. He used the Scepter to kill the Elders. That’s the only reason he wanted it. He knew he wasn’t powerful enough to take them on without it.”

  “And so how does that help him retrieve the ritual?”

  “This isn’t just about the ritual anymore. What do you get if you kill the Elders?”

  “This sounds like a joke.”

  “Valkyrie—”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. Now think. What would killing the Elders result in?”

  “Panic? Fear? Three empty parking spaces in the Sanctuary?”

  Skulduggery looked at her, and Stephanie’s confusion lifted. “Oh God,” she said.

  “He’s after the Book,” Skulduggery said. “He needed the Scepter to kill Meritorious and Morwenna Crow, in order to dismantle the spell protecting it. He doesn’t have to force anyone to do anything; all he’ll have to do is ask. He’s been after the Book of Names all along.”

  Twenty-eight

  CARNAGE

  DUBLIN CITY they reached the Waxwork Museum, as if it was holding its breath. The stars were obscured by a veil of dark clouds, and as they left the Bentley and approached the rear entrance, the rain fell steadily. On the street beyond the museum’s gates, cars splashed through puddles, and the occasional pedestrian hurried by with his head down. Skulduggery moved quickly but cautiously up to the open door, and Stephanie and Tanith followed.

  Stephanie had expected to arrive in the middle of a pitched battle—she expected to hear the sounds of fighting. But the Waxworks Museum was silent. As they walked through the exhibits to the hidden door, Skulduggery slowed and eventually came to a complete stop.

  “What’s wrong?” Stephanie whispered.

  He turned his head slowly, peering into the darkness. “I don’t want to alarm anybody, but we’re not alone.”

  That’s when they came, the Hollow Men, detaching themselves from the shadows with only the faintest rasp of warning. In an instant Stephanie, Skulduggery, and Tanith were surrounded by the mindless, heartless, soulless things.

  Tanith waded through them, her sword strokes deliberate and devastating, every move claiming another unlife. Skulduggery clicked his fingers and a group of Hollow Men was suddenly alight. Stephanie shrank back as they wheeled around blindly. The flames ate through their skin and ignited the putrid gas trapped inside, and with a burst of fire and heat the Hollow Men fell.

  One of them avoided the flames and lunged at Stephanie. She punched it square in the face, her fist sinking into its head slightly. Its own fist swung at her and she ducked, then moved into it as she’d seen Skulduggery do. She jammed her hip into it and twisted, and the Hollow Man hit the ground. It wasn’t graceful and it wasn’t pretty, but it worked. While the Hollow Man was down there, she grabbed its wrist and stomped on its chest, and with a loud tear she pulled its arm off.

  As the Hollow Man deflated beneath her, Stephanie realized everything had gone quiet again. She looked up at Skulduggery and Tanith, who stood watching.

  “Not bad,” Tanith said, an eyebrow raised.

  “That’s the last of them,” Skulduggery said. “Now for the main event.”

  The hidden door to the Sanctuary hung open like a gaping wound. A dead Cleaver lay just inside. Stephanie hesitated for a moment, then stepped over the body, and they followed the steps down.

  The Sanctuary’s foyer had witnessed most of the carnage. It was littered with the dead. There were no wounded here, there were no dying, there were only corpses. Some had been cut to ribbons, some were unmarked, and there were places, spread across the floor, where there was only the dust of those who had fallen before the Scepter. Stephanie tried to step without touching the remains, but they were piled so deep that this was impossible.

  She passed the Administrator. His body was curled, his fingers hooked and frozen in death. His face was a mask of agony. A victim of Serpine’s red right hand.

  Skulduggery went to the doorway on their left and peered around, making sure the cor
ridor was empty. Tanith passed, pressing herself against the wall and nodding to him. He moved forward, stopped, nodded back to her; and they continued like this as they stalked deeper into the Sanctuary.

  No more walking straight into danger, Stephanie thought. This was the only sign they gave that they might actually be afraid.

  She followed along behind. Her palms were slick with sweat and her mouth was dry. She felt as if her legs weren’t going to support her for very much longer. Her thoughts went to her parents, her loving parents. If she died here, if she died tonight, would they even notice? Her reflection would carry on with its empty masquerade, and they’d gradually begin to realize that this thing, this thing they thought was their daughter—its affections weren’t even real. They’d realize it all was an act, but they’d still think it was her. And they’d live out the rest of their days thinking that their own daughter didn’t love them.

  Stephanie didn’t want to put them through that. She was going to die, she knew she was. She should turn now and run, run away. This wasn’t her business. This wasn’t her world. It was as Ghastly had said, the first time she’d met him: Gordon had already lost his life because of this nonsense. Was she so keen to join him?

  She didn’t hear the footsteps, not even when he was so close he could have reached out and stroked her hair. She didn’t catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, and she didn’t notice his shadow or see a reflection, because if he didn’t want to be seen, he wouldn’t be seen. But as he was moving behind her, she felt his presence: She felt the air shift slightly and brush against the skin of her hands and she didn’t even have to turn her head—she just knew.

  She launched herself forward, and Skulduggery and Tanith looked back as she rolled and came up.

  The White Cleaver stood there, silent as a ghost, deadly as a plague.

  * * *

  Tanith turned to see Valkyrie coming up out of a roll, and she saw the White Cleaver standing behind her.

  “Valkyrie,” Tanith said, keeping her voice low and steady, “get behind me.”