Skulduggery Pleasant: Mortal Cole (41 page)

“Please don’t poo,” he muttered.

The bird flapped its wings and he yelled as it leaped from his head and dropped down on the other side of him. Immediately, his hands went to his hair, fixing and straightening where the bird had flattened. Then he lunged,
trying to grab the phone from Valkyrie’s hand, but she held on to it and curled up into a ball, laughing too hard to form words. Finally, he gave up, and lay back.

“Please don’t show that picture to anyone,” he said.

She slipped the phone into her pocket and lay against him. “No promises.”

Fletcher put his arm round her. “We should do this more often. You need a break, Val. A holiday. When was the last time you had a holiday? I bet it was years ago, wasn’t it? You need a week away from everything. A week where people aren’t trying to kill you, where you’re warm and happy and safe.”

She kissed his cheek. “You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you? That’s why I love you.”

She felt his body stiffen. “You love me?”

Her smile faded. “Pretend I didn’t say that.” Fletcher sat up to look at her, but she closed her eyes. “It’s a beautiful day, and it was a nice moment. Don’t spoil it.”

“OK,” he said. He hesitated, then lay back down. “Sure.”

They lay there, on the grass, in the sun.

“So when do you want to go back?”

“Let’s give it a half-hour,” she said. “I’m just getting warm.”

They stayed an hour, and then teleported back to Ireland. The cold came in at Valkyrie from all sides, and she groaned as she handed Fletcher back the sunglasses. She called Skulduggery to pick her up, and as the sun went down, they arrived at the Necromancer Temple.

M
elancholia led them to the High Priest’s private meeting room. She looked tired, and thin, and didn’t even take the time to glare at Valkyrie like she usually did.

“The High Priest will be with you shortly,” she mumbled. She swayed slightly, like she might faint, but regained her composure and left them in the room.

“She looks sick,” Valkyrie said. Skulduggery nodded, but didn’t comment.

The meeting room was a circular chamber with a domed
ceiling, lit by dozens of candles. Valkyrie sat at the round table and waited. Fifteen minutes later, High Priest Tenebrae walked in, and she stood. She was so used to seeing him flanked by Craven and Quiver, that meeting him alone was a little jarring. It was like he’d turned up without his clothes on.

“Detective Pleasant,” Tenebrae said, “Miss Cain, what can I do for you? We’re all very busy here, dealing with the fallout from the Remnant attacks.”

“You weren’t at the Sanctuary meeting,” Skulduggery said.

“I felt my time was better spent in an environment where I wasn’t despised. From what I hear, however, you all seem to have managed without me. Ravel and Bespoke and Mist – strange bedfellows. But I must ask why you are here. I am, as I have said, very busy.”

Skulduggery’s lunge was so sudden that Valkyrie jumped back in shock. He shoved Tenebrae against the wall.

Flustered, the High Priest tried to break the hold. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Skulduggery pointed his gun into Tenebrae’s face. “Where’s the Remnant?”

Tenebrae froze. “The Remnants are trapped. You said so yourself.”

“I mean
your
Remnant. The one you had trapped in your
own little Soul Catcher. The one who inhabited Kenspeckle Grouse, who tortured Tanith Low. Where is
that
Remnant?”

“I… I assume it’s with all the others…”

“Five months ago, Solomon Wreath took possession of the Soul Catcher with that particular Remnant inside. We were assured it would be returned to the Midnight Hotel. Anton Shudder said that never happened.”

“There’s obviously been a mistake…”

“Finbar Wrong can’t remember much, but he can remember Wreath turning up with the Soul Catcher a few days before all this started.”

“You’re saying Wreath released the Remnant on purpose? To what end? To inhabit this Finbar Wrong person?”

Skulduggery stepped closer. “I’m saying you ordered him to.”

“Preposterous. This man is a Sensitive, isn’t he? Why would I order such a thing?”

“Maybe because you wanted a glimpse into the future.”

“In which case,” said Tenebrae, “I could have merely paid a Sensitive to do so.”

“Not if there was something in that future you wanted to keep secret.”

“Detective Pleasant, you’re accusing me without one single shred of proof that I had anything to do with this.”

“Where’s Wreath?” Skulduggery asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“He’s in hiding?”

“I told you, I don’t know. We haven’t seen him since the Remnant attack. I fear he may have been killed.”

“Which would be very convenient for you.”

“Quite the contrary. If Cleric Wreath were here, I’m sure he could explain why he didn’t return the Remnant to the Midnight Hotel as per my instructions. I neither like nor appreciate being accused of something I did not do. And if you’re going to shoot me, then shoot me. Otherwise, put down the gun and stop this ridiculous posturing.”

“I should shoot you. I should kill you.”

“Cold-blooded murder? In front of your protégée?”

“It wouldn’t be murder. It would be a justifiable execution.”

Tenebrae’s eyes flickered to Valkyrie. “And are you prepared to let him? If he kills me, it all changes for you. You’ll be banished from the Necromancer Order. You’ll never be able to fulfil your destiny. You’ll never become the Death Bringer—”

Skulduggery smacked the gun against Tenebrae’s head. “Stop calling her that.”

“Why?” Tenebrae snarled, his hand rising to his forehead. “Because you don’t want to hear it? Because it offends your
delicate sensibilities? If she is who Cleric Wreath thinks she is, she has a chance to save the orld.”

“From what, exactly? You’ve never been too clear on the
threat,
have you? What does the Death Bringer save us from?”

Blood was trickling through Tenebrae’s fingers. “These are matters I will not speak about to outsiders.”

“Then you’ll tell Valkyrie?”

“When she’s ready to hear it.”

“And when will that be? When it’s too late for her to turn back?”

“Detective Pleasant, are you worried that Valkyrie will slip from your influence? I would never have guessed you’d be so insecure.”

“This has nothing to do with me.”

“Which presumably means that this is all to do with her, am I correct? And yet you haven’t once allowed her to speak for herself this entire conversation.”

“I enjoy listening,” Valkyrie said.

Tenebrae’s smile was not particularly good-humoured. “You’re not usually so shy, Valkyrie. When you’re on your own, you talk an extraordinary amount, don’t you? You have opinions on everything. But when Detective Pleasant is here,
you seem content to let him do all the talking for you. Have you noticed this?”

“Can’t say I have,” Valkyrie said.

“But now that I’ve pointed it out, I assure you that you’re going to. He’s afraid, you see. He’s terrified that you’ll turn out to be the next Lord Vile. Isn’t that true, Detective?”

Skulduggery’s voice lowered. “Valkyrie’s path is her own.”

“And if she does, in fact, turn out to be the next Lord Vile? What then? Will you still be so philosophical? Or will you hunt her down and kill her?”

“If it comes to that,” Skulduggery said, putting his gun away, “you’ll be dead long before you get to see if you’re right.”

Tenebrae took his hand away from his forehead, and looked at the blood. “Just so you know, I will be making a formal complaint about you to the Sanctuary. Not that they’ll take any notice. Two of your best friends on the Council of Elders, Detective – this couldn’t have worked out better for you if you’d planned the whole thing.”

The mood in the car on the drive back was sombre.

“What are you thinking about?” Skulduggery asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Everything. My
thoughts can’t seem to settle. Too much to think about. Have you heard anything about Clarabelle?”

“No,” he said. “No I haven’t.”

“We shouldn’t have allowed her to return to the Hibernian alone. We should have realised she’d find Kenspeckle’s body.”

“Valkyrie, we were organising the teleportation of two thousand people – most of whom were still unconscious. We didn’t have time to consider each and every one of them.”

“We let her go, Skulduggery. We didn’t even think about what she’d find. Do you think she’s figured out what she did?”

“She won’t remember it, but…” He sighed. “The evidence is there. We made a mistake.”

“And now Clarabelle has run off.”

“If she wants to be alone, we should respect that. She’s lost someone who meant the world to her. She needs time to grieve. How are you coping?”

“I’m grand.”

“Have you mourned? Fight now, mourn later. Like you said, that’s our thing. And now is the time to mourn.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel or how to, to process it, you know? Kenspeckle reminded me of my granddad. Grumpy and grouchy and not approving of the people I hung out with. I felt safe with him. Every time he was around I knew
that whatever happened, he could fix me. He’d shuffle in, complain, make me feel guilty about getting into another fight. Then he’d insult you, make me laugh, and fix me. And right before he left he’d say something really nice, to make sure I’d know he cared.”

“You’re going to miss him.”

She looked out the window. “Please don’t make me cry.”

“Of course,” Skulduggery said. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say anything, and they drove on in silence until another name drifted, unwelcome, into her thoughts. “Scapegrace,” she muttered.

Skulduggery turned his head to her. “What about him?”

“He’s still locked in Kenspeckle’s examination room. They both are.”

“And?”

“Well, we should probably let them out?”

“So they can make more trouble for us?”

“We can’t just leave them there. They’re looking for a cure, and Kenspeckle said it might be possible. We ought to let them out so they can find someone else to help them.”

“Like who?”

“How about Nye? This’d be right up his alley.”

“We don’t want anything to do with Doctor Nye.”

“And we won’t
have
anything to do with him. We’ll give them his name, let them find him. We can’t leave them locked up in that room, Skulduggery. You know we can’t. Just stop by the Hibernian. I’ll be two minutes.”

He grumbled about it a little more, but fifteen minutes later, Valkyrie was hurrying from the Bentley into the Hibernian. The place was a mess. The walls were scorched and rubble littered the walkways. The screen was off, but a hole had been blown through the wall, and she climbed in. Lights flickered in the corridors. Her footsteps were loud. Suddenly, coming in alone didn’t seem like such a great idea. What if a Remnant had stayed behind?

She reached the examination room, but the transparent door stood open.

“They said they—”

Valkyrie shrieked and leaped away, spinning in mid-air to face her attacker. She landed and stumbled, and all the while Caelan watched her with a raised eyebrow.

“My God!” she gasped. “Don’t do that!”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t sneak up on me!”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I was walking.”

“You should wear a bell round your neck!”

“Are you finished hyperventilating?”

“No!” Valkyrie shouted, then felt stupid. “What? What do you want?”

“I was just going to say, before you started screaming, that I released them. The two zombies. They said they were friends of yours.”

“They said that?”

“I suspect they may have been lying, but the taller one would not shut up, so I opened the door and asked them to leave me alone. I hope you don’t mind.”

She forced herself to calm down. “No. No, I don’t mind. I came to let them out anyway, so…”

“The crisis is over, I take it?”

“Yes. You didn’t hear the details?”

“I’m a vampire without a pack. Nobody tells me anything.”

“Ah,” said Valkyrie. “Right. Yes, the crisis is over. And now that, you know, you’re here, I suppose I should thank you for arriving when you did.”

“You were in danger. I had to save you.”

She nodded, and smiled. Out of gratitude, she knew she should have just let that one go – but then she found herself
saying, “Well, thank you for
helping
me.
Saving
me is a bit… strong.”

“Have you seen him since? The boy?”

“You mean Fletcher. Yes, of course I have.”

“Even after everything he did?”

“That wasn’t him – that was the Remnant.”

“If what happened to him had happened to me, I would never have hurt you.”

“It couldn’t happen to you,” Valkyrie said, “you’re a vampire. Remnants can’t possess the dead.”

“Is that how you see me? As a dead thing?”

“No,” she admitted.

“How do you see me?”

“As a friend.”

“Nothing more?”

He touched her arm and she smiled, but moved away. “Caelan, I don’t want you to think that this is going somewhere. You’ve been a really good friend to me, you’ve really come through, but I am firmly and absolutely with Fletcher. And even if I wasn’t, I still don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

“Love is rarely a good idea.”

“You don’t love me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Please, stop saying that.”

“What will it take for you to love me?”

“I can’t love a vampire.”

“Because we’re monsters? Because when the sun goes down, we change? You realise, of course, that the sun went down a few hours ago.”

Valkyrie’s eyes widened, and she immediately backed away. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “I’m not going to change.” He took a syringe from his pocket. “Dusk used this, remember? It’s a mixture of wolfsbane and hemlock and various other herbs. He’d inject it a few times a night, and it’d stop him changing. I’ve spent the last few days searching for it. The old man had manufactured more. Dozens of vials of it, for whatever reason.”