Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 7 - 9

He saw them and smiled as he came over.

“There,” he said. “So much better. If one is rushing into certain death, one had better look one’s best, don’t you think? I almost feel like my old self again.” He looked at Skulduggery. “You know, the old self who killed your family.”

“Oh, yes,” Skulduggery said, “him.”

Serpine swung his leg up on to his horse, and looked down at Harmony. “Do try not to miss me too much while I’m gone,” he said. “If you find yourself inconsolable, feel free to lie down in your favourite spot on my bunk.”

Harmony’s face got suddenly warmer, Serpine laughed, and turned to Skulduggery. “Shall we go?”

They left the village at a canter. Valkyrie hadn’t ridden a horse in years and it took her a while to ease into the rhythm. She soon found herself enjoying it. And soon after that, she began to ache.

They saw the wall in the distance before they saw Dublin, but soon they were making their way through the narrow streets of the mortals, who hurried from their path even though they had slowed the pace to a brisk walk. They had journeyed mostly in silence, but the closer they got to their destination, the chattier Serpine became.

“It seems the years have mellowed you, skeleton,” he said. “Where is that old anger I used to know? Where is all that fury? All that hatred? Have you changed? Have you become, for want of a better word, a different man?”

“A lot of things have happened since you saw me last,” Skulduggery said. “I’ve already had my revenge, for a start.”

“Oh? How so?”

“The how, where and when don’t concern you, Nefarian.”

“Very well.” Serpine smiled. “But was it everything you had hoped it would be?”

“Oh, it was,” said Skulduggery. “Except that it was over far too quickly.”

“Well, I’m right here if you feel there is blood left unspilled.”

Skulduggery didn’t respond right away, and Valkyrie started to get worried. But then his head tilted in that way of his. “A tempting offer, and much appreciated. It is a rare occasion indeed when I am invited to inflict vast amounts of damage upon a person. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you wanted me to kill you here and now instead of risk Mevolent getting his hands on you.”

Serpine laughed. “Actually, I’d rather skip my untimely demise completely if it’s all the same to you.”

“Naturally. But if you were going to die on this little mission of ours, and it looks like that’s a distinct possibility, then I’m sure you’d prefer a quick neck-break to a prolonged torture session – which is undoubtedly what Mevolent has in mind for you.”

“Oh, you don’t know Mevolent like I know him. He’s a forgiving fellow, all things considered. If I were captured, I’m sure he’d be quite understanding.”

“In that case, if we are outnumbered, we’ll happily leave you behind, yes?”

Serpine smiled, but the smile was tight. “Please do,” he said. “I haven’t seen my old friends in years. We have so much to catch up on.”

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hastly stood in front of the mirror wearing his Elder’s robes. He hated them. He hated them so much he wanted to cut them up, fashion them into something new, something worthwhile or, at the very least, something extravagantly stylish. He took them off, threw them over his desk, and rubbed his eyes. Grand Mage Strom was in a detention cell, Skulduggery and Valkyrie were off having a transdimensional adventure, Kitana and her friends were still causing havoc, and an entire section of the Sanctuary was sealed off thanks to Lament and his sorcerers.

All that plus the fact that Argeddion was walking around conducting those experiments of his and being basically omnipotent meant that Ghastly had enjoyed very little sleep recently.

He missed his old bed. He missed his shop. He missed the part of his life where people didn’t run to him for answers. He was a tailor, not a leader. The only reason he’d taken this job in the first place was to have the resources to track down and cure Tanith Low. But here he was, all this time later, and he was still no closer.

He chose a tie, put it on, tightened the knot all the way and then tugged it down once to loosen it.

He hadn’t even seen Tanith since that time in the van, the Christmas before last. One moment they were chatting, the next there was a bright flash and then everything went dark. When he’d regained his senses, Tanith had fled with a Remnant inside her. It actually stung that she’d infiltrated the Sanctuary mere days earlier to kill Christophe Nocturnal in his cell, and she hadn’t even stopped by to say hello.

That was a weird thing to be upset about, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

He buttoned his waistcoat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, the exact same number of turns on each arm. Looking good could not be left to chance, after all. He may have been disfigured, but that was no reason to let himself go. And at least his scars were symmetrical. Someone knocked on his door. He opened it.

“The mortals,” Tipstaff said. “They’re awake.”

Ghastly ran, joining Ravel on the way down to the lower levels. They passed Elsie and Ghastly grabbed her hand, making sure she stayed close. By the time they reached the quarantine zone, there was a small crowd gathered. Ghastly got to the front, taking Elsie with him.

The mortals were on either side of the room, standing perfectly straight with their eyes fixed ahead of them. Doctor Synecdoche shook her head. “This shouldn’t be happening,” she said. “They’re all fully sedated. They shouldn’t be able to open their eyes, let alone get out of bed.”

Ravel went up to the nearest mortal, waved his hand in front of her face. “She’s unresponsive,” he said. “Are they sleepwalking?”

“Maybe,” said Synecdoche. “I mean, yes, they are, but why? Nothing happened. Nothing has changed. But they all just sat up at the same time. All of them.”

“Elsie?” Ghastly said. “Are you OK?”

“There’s someone here,” she whispered. “I can feel him.”

“Argeddion?”

She nodded. “The same way I can feel Sean, I feel Argeddion. He’s close. He’s getting closer.”

“Grand Mage,” said Ghastly, “Argeddion’s on his way. We need to get you to a safe—”

“No,” said Elsie.

“No what? He’s not on his way?”

She shook her head. “He’s here.”

Argeddion stood down the other end of the ward. “Hello, Elsie,” he said.

The mages and Cleavers who rushed him disappeared before they took two steps. Ghastly was left with Elsie and Ravel, Synecdoche and Tipstaff.

Ravel looked around slowly, then addressed Argeddion. “What did you do with my people?”

“They’re a few miles away,” Argeddion said. “I didn’t harm them, don’t worry. I’m a pacifist, remember?”

“What are you doing here?”

Argeddion smiled. “My first batch of test subjects have completed their tasks,” he said. “I’m just here to collect the results.”

He started walking slowly through the two rows of mortals. Their chests began to glow, and warm globes of light drifted out of them and into him as he passed. Once the light left them, they collapsed. Synecdoche hurried forward, but Argeddion held up a hand, stopping her. “They’re quite all right,” he said. “They’re just sleeping. When they wake, they’ll be back to normal.”

Ravel guided Synecdoche back to where Ghastly and Elsie were standing. “You’re taking your magic back?”

“Yes. And as I take it back, I’m absorbing all the information it gathered. How it affected them, how it improved them, how it hurt them.”