Skulduggery Pleasant: Last Stand of Dead Men (50 page)

“That’s never going to happen,” Thrasher said, trying to stand on trembling legs.

“Found it!” Scapegrace said, jumping up excitedly. “It’s carved into the back of this rock!”

Ghastly and Ravel watched him jiggle for a moment. “Good,” said Ghastly. “This next part is trickier. You’re going to have to follow my instructions exactly, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” said Scapegrace.

“OK. Press your fingertip to the centre of the sigil, just where it starts to loop. Got that? Now slowly move your finger down at a forty-five-degree angle …”

It took twenty minutes and dozens of attempts, but finally that small section of the force field retracted. Ravel gave a sharp gesture and suddenly Cleavers detached themselves from the shadows around them and marched through the gap, three abreast, 114 in all. The two Australian mages followed, and when Shudder and Ravel were through, Ghastly reactivated the force field and turned to see Scapegrace standing right there.

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” he said. “I saw Madame Mist. She vanished.”

“What do you mean?”

“Vanished. Disappeared. Shunted.”

Ghastly frowned. “You saw this?”

“Yes, sir. I thought it was odd so here I am, reporting it.”

“Well, that’s … That’s good to know. Thank you.”

“Sir, yes, sir. Also there was a dog-creature, but I took care of that. Orders, sir?”

“Uh, well, to be honest, I think your work is done for tonight. You should go home and recuperate.”

Scapegrace looked dismayed. “But we’re here to help.”

“You have helped. But things could get messy in a few minutes, and I need to know we have back-up waiting should we need it.”

“I’m your back-up?”

“Yes. Yes you are.”

“Because I’ve been training in the fighting arts. Master Ping has been training me.”

“That’s good to know.”

“I think he loves me a little bit, though.”

“I may have noticed that, yes. Go home, Scapegrace. If we need you, we’ll call.”

Scapegrace bowed, then twirled round and darted into the night. Thrasher ran after him, and Ping shuffled after them both. What an odd group.

They moved slowly through Roarhaven, careful not to be seen. The closer they got to the Sanctuary, the more uneasy Ghastly became. The town was quiet, like it was holding its breath.

Two mages guarded the entrance. Ravel sent a pair of Cleavers to incapacitate them. Ghastly drew his gun, and led the way inside. It was unnaturally still. Zathract and Nixion took off down one corridor, taking half the Cleavers with them. The rest of the Cleavers stayed with Ghastly and Ravel and Shudder, as they made their way through to the heart of the Sanctuary. Any mages they encountered along the way were taken down by non-lethal means. Until they got to the bottom of whatever was going on, the Roarhaven mages were being treated as
potential
hostiles. There’d be no killing them. Not yet.

A figure lurched from the shadows and Ghastly spun, but it was China Sorrows who fell into his arms.

“Just the man I wanted to see,” she mumbled. “You don’t have your sewing kit on you, by any chance …?”

Her clothes were dirty and torn and stained with blood. She was hurt, and exhausted and even paler than usual.

“What happened?” asked Ghastly.

She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, but she smiled with cracked lips. “What didn’t? I’ve been … hunted from one side of this country to the other. Thought I could make it alone, but no … no woman is an island.”

“How did you get through the force field?”

She smiled a pale smile. “No sigil can stop me.”

Ghastly lifted her, passed her into a Cleaver’s arms. “Take her to the Medical Bay. Find someone to treat her. Force them.” The Cleaver nodded and moved away, carrying China as if she were as light as a feather.

They continued on. Ravel posted guards at every doorway they passed. By the time they reached the Round Room, there were twenty Cleavers left.

Ghastly rested his hand on the door, and looked at Ravel. “Ready?” he whispered.

Ravel glanced at Shudder, then looked at Ghastly. He took a deep breath, and nodded. Ghastly pushed the doors open and strode in, Ravel and Shudder on either side of him and the Cleavers spilling in behind.

Ahead of them, Madame Mist stood with Portia and Syc and two other Children of the Spider, people Ghastly recognised as the Scourge and the Terror. None of them looked remotely surprised to see them.

“The warriors return,” said Syc, giving a little laugh.

“Cleavers,” Ghastly said, “arrest Elder Mist and her friends.”

“On what grounds?” Mist asked, her voice unhurried. The Cleavers didn’t move. Any action taken against an Elder would have to be ordered by the Grand Mage himself. “We have done nothing but keep the home fires burning.”

“And the force field?” Shudder asked.

“I thought it prudent, with General Mantis still out there. Was I wrong? Should I not have worried?”

“You sent your people to kill us,” said Ghastly. “For a second time, I might add.”

“My people? My people are here with me. Were you attacked by any one of them? Were you attacked by a Child of the Spider?”

Her tone was low, mocking, and completely confident. Ghastly didn’t like it. She was completely outnumbered, but acting like she was the one with the upper hand. He pressed a finger to his headset.

“Nixion,” he said. “Status?”

His earpiece crackled into life. “A half-dozen people, all in shackles,” said Nixion. “This area’s secure. Want us to check the lower levels?”

Ghastly’s eyes stayed on Mist. “Not yet,” he said. “Hold for further instructions.”

“Can we finish this now?” Portia asked. “I’m bored.”

Mist shook her head. “This is a moment to be savoured, my sweetling. Not rushed over. Not fumbled. But look. You’ve spoiled it now. You’ve robbed it of its fun.”

“Wasn’t fun for us,” said Syc.

“Of course not,” Madame Mist said. “Because you’re young, and impetuous, and have yet to learn such subtleties as patience. When you have learned this subtle art, then you will never want moments like this to end. Elder Bespoke, we never got along, you and I. You distrusted me from the start – wisely, as it turned out. Do you have anything else to charge me with?”

“You were behind the Warlock killings,” Ghastly said. “You were framing the mortals.”

“Of course. But I assure you, the Warlocks are merely a means to an end. Once they attack Dublin City, Sanctuaries around the world will unite, and we will save the mortals from these evil, evil beings and be hailed as heroes. We’ll take over, and the mortals won’t even get to set off one of those bombs they love so much. An elegant plan. Not my own, I have to admit. But an elegant plan nonetheless, don’t you think?”

She was building up to something. Ghastly had found it wise over the years to never let his enemies build up to something.

He took another step forward, raising his gun. “Hands on your head, all of you. You’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder.”

“One moment, please,” said Mist.

“Hands on your head
now
,” said Ghastly.

“Indulge me, if you will, as one Elder to another. My final request before I am led away in disgrace. Your associates, elsewhere in this building. Call them.”

“What?”

Mist said nothing more.

Frowning, Ghastly pressed his headset again. “Nixion. Any change? Nixion? Zathract?”

There was movement behind Mist, and something came flying through the air to land wetly in the space before Ghastly. Nixion’s head rolled to a stop, joined a moment later by Zathract’s.

“Oh, dear,” said Madame Mist. “Oh, I have been unforgivably rude. I seem to have forgotten to introduce you to our new bodyguard that Doctor Nye has generously donated to our cause.”

A figure stepped into the light. Dressed all in black, carrying a scythe, his face hidden behind a visored helmet.

“He’s darkened his colour since the first time you met,” said Mist, “but the Black Cleaver is still the same man who almost killed you six years ago. I think it only fitting that he be here to witness your death.”

Something cold and sharp thudded into Ghastly’s back and he took a step forward, his gun dropping from his suddenly numb fingers. He looked round, saw the Cleavers falling upon Shudder, their scythes piercing the unarmoured sections of his clothes as easily as they did the flesh beneath. They knew exactly where to strike. The Gist burst from Shudder’s chest, screaming in pain and fury, but a scythe took Shudder’s head and the Gist dissipated like smoke in a breeze.

Ghastly fell to one knee. He reached behind his back, clumsy fingers searching for the scythe blade. Instead, he found a knife. It was pulled free before he could grip it, and he toppled, turning over to land on his back.

“I am sorry, my friend,” Erskine Ravel said, bending over him. Ghastly closed his hand around Ravel’s wrist, tried to keep the blade away – “No,” he whispered, “no, don’t” – but his strength was gone and Ravel easily disentangled himself and pushed the knife into his throat.

In that moment, Ghastly became aware of a great many things. He became aware of how cold he suddenly was, and how hot his blood felt, splashing on to his skin. He became aware of Anton Shudder’s head lying on the floor, turned away from him. He became aware of how many regrets he’d stored up over the years, and despite them all and despite his age, he still wasn’t ready to die. And he became aware of Ravel’s eyes, brimming with tears, those eyes of his that had many a lady swooning over him down through the centuries. Those golden eyes.

inding Tanith was the only thing that Sanguine cared about, but after an hour of searching he had to return to the small primary school with nothing to show for his efforts. The school was in the middle of nowhere, with doors that were easily forced and windows that gave them a good view in all four directions. A good temporary base – providing they didn’t have to defend it.

Rue and Vex were already back, and Gracious O’Callahan was working away at the little school computer, tapping the keys by the dim light of the screen. A few minutes later, Pleasant dropped from the midday sky and strode into the classroom.

“Any sign?” Vex asked.

“Nothing,” Pleasant said. “We’ll have to expand our search.”

“No,” said Rue. “Skulduggery, I know you’re worried, but Valkyrie’s a prisoner of war now. She’ll be treated well and she’ll be kept out of danger. If we keep looking for her, we’re going to run into the people who are looking for
us
. They’re closing in and you know it. We have to leave the area.”

“We’re not going anywhere without Tanith,” Sanguine said quietly. “Valkyrie will be released when the war is over, but Tanith is a wanted fugitive. She’s gonna be thrown in prison for the rest of her life if we don’t get her back
now
.”

Vex shook his head. “It’s too risky. I’m sorry.”

“So that’s how it is, is it? You’ll let her fight for you, but the moment she needs help you cut her loose? I thought you were meant to be the good guys, all noble and honourable. I don’t see much nobility in leaving your people behind.”

“We’re not leaving,” said Pleasant. “Once Mantis figures out who he has, he’ll set his Sensitives on them. They’re probably already at work. We have to get to Valkyrie before they push too deep.”

Rue frowned. “Why? They don’t know where we are. They don’t know of our plans because we don’t have any plans.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what, for God’s sake?”

By the way he stood, it looked like Pleasant was about to say something he really didn’t want to say, but he was saved the trouble by O’Callahan.

“There’s something you should see,” he said.

Sanguine stepped forward. “You’ve found them?”

O’Callahan shook his head. “This computer isn’t powerful enough to crack Mantis’s communication codes. Instead, I’ve been trying to find out why we can’t get in touch with Ghastly. Whatever else she’s done, Madame Mist hasn’t changed the codes for the security feed yet, so I’ve accessed the cameras in the Roarhaven Sanctuary.”

“Let’s take a look,” Pleasant said, and Sanguine rushed forward before all the good places around the computer were taken. The monitor showed the empty Round Room.