Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 7 - 9

Valkyrie allowed the woman to guide her to a field that ran along the outskirts of town. Parked in this field was a vessel roughly the size of a jumbo jet. In fact, if someone had taken a jumbo jet made of black metal, torn the wings off, flattened it till the cylinder shape became rectangular, then that’s what the Barge looked like. Minus wheels or windows or any obvious way in.

“You seriously want me to break into that thing?”

“Can you do it?”

“I don’t see how. I don’t even know how it works. Where does it open? Where’s the door?”

The woman looked at her. “You’ve really never seen a Barge before? Where are you from?”

“Not here.”

The woman bit her lip, then nodded. “I can show you the door. When it starts to leave, if we hurry, we can get to it without being seen.”

“No, you should stay out of sight.”

“You won’t find it without me. I can be quick when I need to be.” The woman picked up a rock. “And if the Redhoods come, I’ll fight them with you.”

“We don’t fight Redhoods if we can help it,” said Valkyrie. “If you see them, you run, OK? Leave any fighting to me.”

The woman nodded, but didn’t drop the rock.

They ducked down as a small squad of Redhoods returned to the field. They disappeared round the other side of the Barge, and a few minutes later, a massive engine started rumbling.

“Get ready,” said the woman.

The Barge shook a little, then slowly lifted up off the ground.

“It flies?” Valkyrie said. “You didn’t tell me it flies!”

“Come on,” said the woman, hurrying out from cover into the wide-open space of the field. Against every instinct she possessed, Valkyrie followed. They passed into the shadow of the Barge, and when they were directly underneath, the woman stopped and pointed.

“See? Right there. See that hatch?”

Valkyrie frowned. The underside of the Barge was completely flat, with nothing to hang on to should she propel herself upwards. “That’s the only door? There isn’t one on top?”

“That’s the only one I know of.”

“Then we’re in trouble,” said Valkyrie. “I can probably get up there, but I’ve got no way of opening—”

The woman swung and the rock cracked against Valkyrie’s skull. She wasn’t even aware of her body falling. She just lay on her back, her thoughts congealing into something slow and thick as she watched the hatch open, high above. A hovering platform lowered itself to the ground, and a man stepped off. He was familiar, but Valkyrie’s muddled thoughts couldn’t place him. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Grey hair. A strong jawline. The woman spoke to him, her hands clasped like she was begging. The man didn’t even look at her. His eyes were on Valkyrie, as her mind struggled towards clarity.

“—brought her to you,” said the woman. “Let my son go. Please. He made a mistake. He’ll never do it again. Take her instead. I know you’ve been looking for her.”

“Your son will be questioned,” the man said. He had a deep voice, rich with authority. “If he has committed no serious crime, he’ll be returned to you as a reward for your service.”

The woman broke down crying. “Thank you, oh, thank you. When will he be released?”

But the man had wasted enough time on this mortal woman, and instead stood over Valkyrie, shackles in hand. Using his foot, he flipped her on to her belly. A name floated through her thoughts. She almost hadn’t recognised him without his beard.

Baron Vengeous shackled her hands behind her back, and hauled her to her feet.

(#ulink_1f56e4be-0a2e-58c2-bd47-68eba8577de5)

lsie stood behind the lamp post and tried to work up the courage to talk to the construction supervisor. Most of the work in the street was already done. The café had a new window, the wrecked car had been taken away, all the damage was being patched up. According to the first news reports this street had seen some kind of gang battle, with people shooting at each other and blowing up cars. Then the reports changed to indicate that someone had been using a flame-thrower and, bizarrely, some kind of “laser beam”. But the latest news cleared up all the confusion, stating that it had merely been a boring old car crash. The eyewitnesses came back on air, apologised for their mistakes and the newsreaders chuckled about it. The important thing was that nobody was hurt, and nobody was suing anybody.

Elsie had listened to all of it and she just knew that Kitana and the others were responsible, and that the people that Xebec had been talking about, the magic cops, were hiding what had really happened.

“Excuse me?”

She turned as two men approached, journalists, one of them holding a camera. The other one glanced around quickly, and gave her a furtive smile. “Were you here?” he asked. “Did you see it? Did you see what really happened?”

She blinked into the camera lens. “Are you from the news?”

“We’re making a documentary,” said the man. “We’re exposing the truth behind the cover-ups. Are you a witness? Would you be willing to tell us what you saw?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know what... I wasn’t here. Sorry.”

The man looked at her. “Did they get to you, too?”

She frowned, and the cameraman tugged on his colleague’s arm. “Come on, Kenny, let’s go.”

“She knows something.”

“We’ll be seen. Come on.”

The cameraman hurried off. The other man, Kenny, gave her a business card. “If you remember anything,” he said, walking backwards, “call this number.” And then he was gone.

Elsie waited a few moments, then went to the skip by the side of the road and dropped the card in among the debris and broken glass. She took a deep breath, then approached the construction supervisor. “Excuse me,” she said, “I’d like to talk to someone in charge.”

The supervisor smiled at her. “That’d be me.”

“Uh,” she said. “No, I mean... someone who’s really in charge. You know. Of the secret thing.”

“The secret thing?”

She nodded. “With the... stuff.”

He frowned at her. “Were you hit on the head recently, Miss? Maybe we should get a doctor to take a look at you.”

“I’m fine,” Elsie said quickly. “Well, no I’m not, but I just want to help. I know this wasn’t a car crash. And I don’t think it was gangs with laser beams, either. I... I think I might know the people who did this.”

The supervisor looked at her, and gave her another smile. “What’s your name?” he asked.

She told him.

“You know what?” he said. “I think I might call my boss. Do you mind hanging around for a bit?”

“I’ll stay,” she said.