Armageddon Outta Here - The World of Skulduggery Pleasant

“Because it’s not for you to see.”

The dead man looked at her, and he gave the slightest of nods. “Very well.”

He turned to the open door of the church, and spoke loudly. “It is I, and I stand with the girl, the Elemental and the partner of the skeleton detective, and although she is late she is here, which is the important thing, and we are moving on. I ask that the exchange take place, the three innocent lives for the gold she claims to possess, though as of yet I have not seen it. If it makes a difference, she has an honest face, although her eyes are as dark as her hair. Will you bid her enter?”

Torches flared in wall brackets inside the ruin, beating the darkness back. The dead man stepped away.

“You may enter,” he said.

“You’re not coming?”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t be letting me walk into a trap, would you?” asked Valkyrie.

“Why would I do that? I’m dead. What do I have to gain? I can’t leave this graveyard. There is nothing that brings me joy any more, there is no pleasure to be had, there is nothing I can use so there is nothing that I want. I am empty. My existence is a shallow thing of coldness and—”

“OK,” Valkyrie interrupted, “I get it. You’re miserable, fine. I’ll go in now.”

The dead man shrugged. Valkyrie left him there and stepped into the church.

Part of the roof had caved in, and her boots brushed rubble as she walked. Her boots, like the trousers she wore, and the tunic and the coat, were made of impenetrable materials that had saved her life on numerous occasions. Everything she wore was black, and it was a black that melted into the shadows and hid her from unsuspecting eyes. It wasn’t hiding her tonight, however. Every move she made was being watched. She could feel eyes on her.

There were a few broken pews in the church, but no altar, and no decoration. The flickering torches reflected off wet patches on the stone walls where the rain had fallen.

Valkyrie stopped walking.

“Hello?” she called. “Goblins?”

“Gold,” came the voice from behind her.

She turned slowly, making no sudden moves.

The goblin was maybe up to her shoulder, short and squat and distressingly ugly. He had large bulbous eyes and a long bulbous nose, and his nostril hair mingled with a moustache in a way that was far from appealing. His green skin looked unhealthy in the torchlight, afflicted as it was with sores and boils. He wore a filthy grey suit that had lost all the buttons from the jacket. His belly protruded. Hair sprouted from his belly button.

“Give us the gold,” he said.

“Give me the babies,” she told him. “Then you get your gold.”

He shook his head. “Give us the gold, then you get the babies.”

“How do I know the babies are here? I can’t hear them crying.”

“Maybe they’re happy.”

“Then show me them smiling.”

The goblin scratched his belly thoughtfully. “Compromise,” he said.

“OK.”

“We’ll give you half now, you give us the gold, and then we give you the other half.”

“There are three babies. How do you give me half?”

He shrugged. “Chop a baby in two.”

“You know, even for a goblin, that’s disturbed. Bring the kids out, right now, or I walk away with the gold.”

The goblin growled in displeasure. “Colm,” he said, “Fintan, bring them out.”

From behind him, two more goblins emerged. Valkyrie was amazed to realise that the first goblin was the handsome one of the family. His brothers wore rags, torn and dirty, and they carried the babies between them. The babies had dummies jammed in their mouths.

“See?” the first goblin said. “Alive, uneaten, and not chopped or anything. Now, the gold.”

Valkyrie reached into her coat and brought out a bag that jangled in her grip.

The goblins stared at the bag, practically drooling.

“Put the kids down,” she said. “Just place them on the ground over here, very gently, and step away. Then I’ll give you the gold and we’ll say goodbye.”

One of the goblins, she didn’t know which one he was, so she decided that he should be Colm, grunted. “How do we know there’s gold in that bag?”

“Because I tell you there is.”

“We don’t know you. Liam, we can’t trust this girl.”

The first goblin, Liam, scratched his belly. “We were expecting the skeleton. Where is he?”

“He couldn’t make it.”

“He sent you instead?”

“Yes, he did,” said Valkyrie

“You’re his assistant, then?”

“Partner.”

“You’re a child.”

“You’re a goblin.”

“Only on the outside.”

“And on the inside you steal babies. Looks and personality.”

“I don’t like you.”