Death Bringer (39 page)

Chapter 58
The Main Event

t came from above, scuttling from the tunnel ceiling to the curve of the wall, moving so fast it was hard to keep track. Before it slipped into darkness, Valkyrie saw its pale skin glisten wetly.

“I don't think we should go this way,” she said softly.

“You heard the zombie,” Melancholia responded. “This is the way out. What do you want to do? You want to go
back
?”

“There's something up ahead.”

“There's something behind us too. Throw a ball of fire at whatever it is and it'll run off. Do I have to think of everything?”

“So far you haven't thought of
anything
,” Valkyrie said, but resumed walking. “The creatures down here are not friendly, and they're not easily stopped.”

“Maybe not by you, but I'm the Death Bringer.”

“You still believe that?”

“You saw what I can do.”

“You said it yourself, you're a rechargeable battery.”

“You have no
idea
how powerful I am. I can take lives by reaching out with my mind.”

“And how's that going for you?”

Melancholia glared. “This is your fault. You tricked me into giving the skeleton his life back. Without the skeleton, Vile would still only be an empty suit of armour, which I'd have destroyed by now.”

“And if you had destroyed it, then you'd have killed me, and then millions of others. Sorry Mel, you don't get to paint yourself as the innocent victim here.”

“There's something wrong with you, you know,” Melancholia said. “Twenty minutes ago I tried to kill you, and now you're helping me run from your friend who is now trying to kill us both. That's a very healthy relationship you have there, by the way.”

“At least Vile isn't going to try to kill the world after this. All he wants to do is kill you and whoever might replace you.”

“Why do you keep calling him Vile? What happened to calling him Skulduggery?”

“When he wears that armour, he's Lord Vile. That's how I've got to think of him. It's the only way we're going to survive.”

Melancholia snapped her head around. “Did you hear that?”

Valkyrie disentangled herself from Melancholia, left her leaning against the tunnel wall. There was something up ahead. She could see it in the gloom. It leaped up, and charged.

Valkyrie pushed at the air and it came right through, barged into her and Valkyrie went down, getting tangled in its limbs, in its clutching hands. Its knee dropped to her belly and the breath rushed from her lungs. She latched on to it, wrapped her arms around its skinny frame and didn't let go, burying her head into its shoulder. It snarled and bucked and she strained to hold on, even when it started rolling. She tucked her legs around its waist. If she lost her grip, her stomach muscles would cramp up, leaving her defenceless. Holding on was all she could do. Holding on was the only thing keeping her alive.

The creature, whatever it was, was shrieking now. They rolled to the edge and dropped a few feet. Valkyrie landed on her shoulder and her arms almost sprang apart. It pulled her hair and scraped her face. She kept her head down and her eyes tightly shut. She pulled in a sliver of air. When she was sure she wasn't going to curl up the moment she released her grip, she raised her head and opened her mouth, snarled and sank her teeth into the creature's neck.

It screamed, a sound of pure panic, and it struggled but Valkyrie didn't let go. Blood washed into her mouth and she gagged and did her best not to swallow. They rolled sideways. Valkyrie used her hips to heave herself forward, and now she was on top, with the creature wriggling and squirming beneath her. Valkyrie's jaw was aching, but she held on. Her mouth was filling with warm blood. It spilled over her face, down her neck, beneath her clothes. It spilled on to the ground, splashing into the dirt.

Gradually, the struggling weakened.

When enough feeling had returned to her, Valkyrie rolled away and immediately threw up. The creature lay still, mouth open and eyes closed. There was blood everywhere. Valkyrie spat and crawled further away, then collapsed.

The inside of her mouth tasted like blood and sick. She had meat between her teeth.

“Are you… OK?”

She looked back. Melancholia was staring at her. All Valkyrie wanted to do was curl up and cry.

Melancholia held out her hand, and helped her up on to the upper ledge.

“We have to keep going,” Valkyrie murmured.

“We can rest if you—”

“No,” Valkyrie said, and got to her feet. “We have to keep going.”

They walked on, Melancholia getting weaker and weaker. By the time the gloom began to brighten, she was practically unconscious. Valkyrie dragged her the last few hundred metres, finally emerging from the cave mouth into the moonlight. She laid Melancholia on the ground and stumbled to her knees. The cool breeze brushed the sweat on her face. Her back was on fire, the blood sticky on her skin. She didn't even notice her cut hands or her broken fingernails any more.

There were a few vehicles parked nearby – two cars and a jeep and, for some reason, an ice-cream van. She didn't wonder why there was an ice-cream van. Wondering was the luxury of the curious, and curiosity was a luxury she just didn't have time for.

Groaning with the effort, Valkyrie stood on legs that were made of lead. Her muscles were thick, heavy things that couldn't be trusted. She hobbled to the nearest car. The keys were still in it. She collapsed against the bonnet, eyes closed in relief. She really didn't want to hobble back and drag Melancholia over.

“Hey,” she called to her, her voice croaky. She needed water. “Hey, Mel. Get up.”

Melancholia stayed passed out.

Valkyrie tried using the air to pull Melancholia closer, but her hand waved uselessly. She was too tired. She needed to rest, just for ten minutes, just to regain a little of her strength. That wasn't too much to ask, not after coming all this way, not after going through all that. Just a little rest.

“You look dreadful.”

Valkyrie opened her eyes. Melancholia was looking at her from where she was lying. Valkyrie gave a short laugh. “Yeah,” she said, “because you look so good down there.”

Melancholia smiled weakly, and shuddered as a pulse of darkness passed through her. “I don't know what's happening…”

“We'll get you to the Sanctuary,” Valkyrie told her. “There's a doctor there. Its name is Nye. You're going to love it.”

Melancholia tried to rise, then laid her head back on the ground. “You know,” she murmured, “I don't think I want to kill millions of people any more.”

“That's good.”

“Now I only want to kill
you
.”

Valkyrie grinned. “Well… it's progress, I suppose.”

“Help me up, you lazy cow.”

Valkyrie laughed again, then she saw the shadows shifting in the tunnel and her heart plummeted. She pushed herself away from the car, forced her legs to run to Melancholia, but it was too late. The darkness reared up and held her back, and Lord Vile emerged into the night.

“Skulduggery!” she cried. “Please listen to me! She's hurt! She's damaged! She's not the Death Bringer any more!”

Lord Vile ignored her. Melancholia started to crawl away, and a black claw grew from Vile's fist.

Valkyrie pushed through the darkness, went stumbling, managed to fall beside Melancholia. She grabbed her. “Kill me,” she whispered. Melancholia tried to push her away, but Valkyrie gripped her tighter. “Kill me. It's our only chance.”

“What are you—”

With the last ounce of her strength, Valkyrie punched. It wasn't a good punch, and it wasn't a strong punch, but it did the job, and Melancholia's anger flared.

“I hope you know what you're doing,” she growled. Her eyes narrowed.

Valkyrie took a breath, immediately felt cold. She could sense Melancholia reaching out with her mind, using her last reserves to expand the death bubble around them both. Then the bubble retracted, and Valkyrie started to go with it, started to leave her body. As she was pulled gently closer to Melancholia, she paused a while to examine what was happening. Her body's heartbeat slowed. Her brainwaves began to flatten. The bio-electricity in her body dampened. She was leaving her shell behind, and her thoughts were becoming clouded. She was about to lose who she was. Her identity was in her personality, and her personality rested in her body. Fascinating. The whole process was so very fascinating.

She couldn't allow it to happen, of course. She pulled back, felt her synapses firing again, felt her heart quicken, felt her body around her. Melancholia's eyes were closed. It was all too much for her, the poor thing. Still, she'd done her job. She'd endangered Valkyrie's life, and awoken the beast within.

Darquesse stood up, and looked at Lord Vile. “Be honest,” she said. “You've been looking forward to this, haven't you?”

Vile opened both hands, pulling shadows from the mouth of the cave. They curled and thrashed behind him, then rose in a giant wave that rolled towards her. Darquesse fell to one knee under the onslaught. It was a test. He was testing her, seeing how strong she was. When the wave was gone, she lunged. He ducked under the punch and grabbed her low, lifting her off her feet, taking her to the grass. His fists came down, battering her face. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist but his armour expanded, keeping her from locking her ankles together. His fists were hammers, driving her down into the ground, the earth giving way beneath her. An extraordinary sensation.

She reached up with one hand, her fingers gripping his armour, and she pulled him down to her as she rose up, slamming her forehead into his armour-plated face with enough force to break boulders. Vile swayed slightly and she heaved herself out of the depression she had made, flipping them both over, just like Skulduggery had taught her. Had taught Valkyrie. Whatever.

She pushed herself to her feet and kicked, her boot finding a perfect spot on Vile's ribs. She kicked again, and again, shunting him along the ground. He tried to get up and she grabbed his head, started twisting, aiming to pull the whole thing right off. Shadows flew at her, covered her face, cutting off her oxygen. She felt Vile slip from her grip and lashed out blindly. Her left hand connected with him and the shadows went away as Vile stumbled back.

They observed each other, and Darquesse smiled, then quickly lifted off the ground. Vile followed her. It was as if the night reached down and raised him up. Darquesse laughed.

She flew high, and fast, and he gave chase. The sky was cloudless, the moon half-full, the stars out over the countryside that flashed beneath her. He was gaining and so she flew faster. She glanced back in time to see him give a burst of speed, and they collided, went spinning through the air, grappling. Everywhere Vile was in contact with her spikes would grow. They couldn't get through her clothes but they cut her hands, her neck, her face. She hit him but his mask had turned sharp and jagged and it punctured her fist, breaking the knuckles.

She kicked away, swooped under his grab and veered towards the lights of the city, to where the sky turned orange and hid the stars. As she flew, she examined the pain she was feeling, then dampened it and healed herself. Healed her back and her fingernails too, all the little cuts and scratches and bruises. It was freezing up here, but she didn't care about the cold. The wind in her face, her hair blown back, the trouble she was having taking a breath… It was all just a part of being alive. And Darquesse liked being alive.

She looked back. Vile flew like a bullet, arms down at his sides, streamlined and efficient. She laughed, holding her own arms out like Superman. All she needed now was a cape.

The night snatched Vile away. One moment he was behind her, the next he was gone. She looked round and he emerged from the dark ahead of her but she didn't alter her course. She curled her hands into fists and flew straight into him, catching him in the gut, speeding on with him folded over her. His left hand grabbed her wrist, squeezed it so tightly her bones broke. She healed them instantly. He reached to her with his right hand, his armoured glove finding her face, his thumb seeking her eye. She turned her head but he had a good grip. If he burst her eyeball, how quickly would she be able to repair it?

She didn't know, so she let him do it, and as an experiment she allowed the pain in. His thumb burst her eye and she shrieked. Her body convulsed and she twisted in mid-air. Vile's momentum carried him onwards, but Darquesse didn't care about him – all she cared about was the extraordinary pain she was experiencing. Her hands were covering her face, feeling the blood and the jelly leak down her cheek. She realised she was still screaming, screaming and roaring and crying, turning in circles in the air. When the pain was too much, she shut it off, and calmly pressed the remains of her eye back into its socket. An interesting experiment.