Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3

The wire slipped again and Stephanie knew she didn’t have a choice. She crawled along the same branch Skulduggery had jumped from and it groaned beneath her weight. Skulduggery was nothing but bones, she reminded herself, in an effort not to feel fat.

The gap was gaping. It was a gaping gap.

Stephanie shook her head – she couldn’t make it. There was no way she could jump that. With a decent run at it, she might have had a chance, but from crouching on the end of an unsteady branch? She closed her eyes, forcing the doubts from her mind. It wasn’t a choice, she reminded herself. It wasn’t a question of whether she could jump, or would jump. Skulduggery needed her help, and he needed it now, so it was a question of when she did jump, what would happen then?

So she jumped.

She stretched out and the ground moved far beneath her and the edge of the building rushed at her and then she started to dip. Her right hand thudded against the edge and her fingers gripped. The rest of her body slammed into the side of the building and she almost fell, but she shot her left hand up to join her right and held on. She pulled herself up, little by little, until she could get an arm over the edge and soon she was safe. She had made it.

The wire slipped again. It was about to snap from the duct and then it’d all be over. Stephanie ran to it, got her fingers around the wire and tried to tug it down again but it was no use. She stood, put the sole of her boot against the wire and used all her weight to try and push it down, but she didn’t make the slightest bit of difference. She looked around for something to use, saw the bag and snatched it up. Nothing inside but more wire.

She grabbed the wire and dropped to her knees, tying a new piece to the wire already attached to the harness. Her father had taught her all about knots when she was little, and although she couldn’t remember the names of most of them, she knew which knot suited this occasion.

With the new length of wire added, she looked around for something to secure it to. There was another skylight right in front of her. She ran to it, wrapping the wire around the entire concrete base and getting it tied off just as the first piece of wire shot off the duct. There was a sudden snap as the wire went taut again, but it stayed secure.

Stephanie hurried over to the open skylight and looked down. Skulduggery was hovering right above the floor, trying to stay horizontal after the sudden drop. The motion control for the harness was still in his hand, but both arms were outstretched for maximum balance and he couldn’t move himself back up.

There was a second control on the roof beside Stephanie, attached to the harness with a lead that twisted down through the skylight around the wire. Stephanie grabbed the control, jammed her finger against the UP button and Skulduggery started whirring upwards.

When he was safe he raised his head, saw her and gave her the thumbs up. He took over the controls, positioning himself next to the wall, by the panel that he had already opened. Stephanie watched him flick a few switches, and then he spun himself gently. His feet touched the floor. No alarms went off.

He undid the clasp on the harness and stepped out of it, then looked up. A moment passed and he motioned for her to come down. Grinning, Stephanie recalled the harness, strapped herself in, climbed over the edge, and lowered herself down. Skulduggery helped her unclip it.

“I suppose I could do with some back-up,” he whispered and she smiled.

The gallery was big and spacious and white. There were huge glass sections in the walls. The main hall was full of paintings and sculptures, artfully arranged so it was neither cluttered nor sparse.

They moved to the double doors and listened intently. Skulduggery opened one of the doors, checked outside, nodded to Stephanie. They crept out, closing the door behind them. She followed him through the white corridors, around turns and through archways. She caught him glancing out of the windows as they passed. Night was coming.

They got to a small alcove, away from the main hub of the gallery. Within this alcove was a heavy wooden door, crisscrossed by a grid of bolted steel. Skulduggery whispered for her to keep watch and then hurried to the door, taking something from his pocket.

Stephanie crouched where she was, peering into the ever-increasing gloom. She glanced back at Skulduggery as he worked at picking the lock. There was a window next to her. The sun had gone down.

She heard footsteps and shrank back. The man in the blue overalls had appeared around the corner on the far side of the corridor opposite. He was walking slowly, like any security guard she’d seen in a mall. Casual, disinterested, bored. She felt Skulduggery sneak up behind her, but he didn’t say anything.

The man’s hand went to his belly and then he doubled over in pain. Stephanie wished she was closer. If he sprouted fangs she’d hardly be able to see them from here. The man straightened up and arched his spine, and the sounds of his bones cracking echoed through the corridor. Then he reached up and grabbed his hair and pulled his skin off.

Stephanie stifled a gasp. In one fluid movement he had pulled it all off – hair, skin, clothes – and he was pale underneath, and bald, and his eyes were big and black. He moved like a cat, kicking off the remnants of his human form. She didn’t have to be closer to see his fangs, they were big and jagged and hideous, and now she was quite content to be viewing them from a distance. These weren’t the vampires she’d seen on TV; these weren’t sexy people in long coats and sunglasses. These were animals.

She felt Skulduggery’s hand on her shoulder and he pulled her back a fraction, very gently, just before the vampire looked over. It moved away from them, down the corridor, in search of prey.

Stephanie followed Skulduggery to the door, and they passed through and closed it behind them. Skulduggery wasn’t creeping any more, but Stephanie didn’t dare make a sound. He led the way down beneath the gallery, a flame in his hand lighting the steps. It was cold down here. They were in an old corridor now with heavy doors on either side, and they walked until they came to a door with a crest etched into it – a shield and a bear. Skulduggery raised both hands and lowered his head and didn’t move for almost a minute. Then the door clicked and they stepped in.

12 (#uc0cf2925-679b-5137-b0eb-2046d781b6d1)

VAMPIRES

kulduggery clicked his fingers and candles flared up all around the chamber. There were books piled on books, and artefacts and statues, and paintings and wood carvings, and there was even a suit of armour to one side.

“This is all to do with the Sceptre?” Stephanie asked in a whisper.

“It’s all to do with the Ancients,” Skulduggery answered, “so I’m sure there must be something about the Sceptre in all this. I honestly didn’t expect there to be this much. You don’t have to whisper by the way.”

“There are vampires above us.”

“These chambers are sealed. I broke the locking seal, but the sound seal is still in place. Did you know locking seals have to be dismantled every single time you want to go through, and then crafted again once you leave? I don’t see what’s wrong with a good old-fashioned key. That would certainly keep someone like me out. Well, until I knocked the door down.”

“What’s a sound seal?” Stephanie whispered.

“Hmm? Oh. Even if they were standing outside the door and you were shouting at the top of your voice, they wouldn’t hear you.”

“Ah,” she said, “OK then.” But she still kept her voice low.

They started searching. Some of the books were about the legends of the Ancients, some took a more practical and analytical viewpoint and some were written in a language Stephanie didn’t recognise. A few of the books held nothing but blank pages, yet Skulduggery seemed able to read them, although he said they contained nothing of immediate interest.

She started rooting through a collection of paintings, stacked in frames against the wall. A lot of them showed people holding the Sceptre aloft and looking heroic. The paintings toppled over and she stooped to push them back up. She looked at the painting in front of her, recognising it from the book she had seen in Skulduggery’s car – a man shielding his eyes from a glowing Sceptre as he reached for it. This was the full painting, not the truncated little rectangle on a page. Skulduggery glanced over as Stephanie put the pictures back as she had found them. She approached the suit of armour, noting the shield and bear etched into the breastplate.

“Family crest?” she asked.

“Sorry?” Skulduggery said, looking up. “Oh, yes. We don’t have family names that we can keep, so crests serve as our only link to our ancestors.”

“Do you have a crest?”

He hesitated. “I used to. I don’t any more.”

She turned. “Why not?”

“I abandoned it actually.”

“Why?”

“You ask an awful lot of questions.”

“When I grow up I want to be a detective just like you.”

He looked over and saw her grinning. He laughed. “I suppose you do share my penchant for raising Cain.”

“Raising what now?”

“It’s an old expression. It means to make trouble.”

“Well why can’t you say ‘make trouble’? Why do you always have to use these words that I don’t know?”

“You should read more.”

“I read enough. I should get out more.”

Skulduggery held a small box up to the light, turning it over in his hands and examining it from every angle.