Skulduggery Pleasant Part 20

"Not after this. They're probably at your doorstep as we speak."

Serpine stood, walked behind his captive. "Somehow I don't think they would be able to 225.

marshal their forces so quickly. Or so efficiently. No, my old enemy, I think for the moment, anyway, we 're all alone. And you have something I want."

"A winning sense of style?"

"The key," Serpine said as he walked back into the detective's line of sight.

"Don't know what you 're talking about."

Serpine was moving his left hand slightly, like he was conducting music. "Obviously you're not going to just offer up the information, so I think a spot of torture is required."

"Ah," the detective said. "Old times."

"I remember those dark autumn days that I'd while away, cutting you, making you cry out."

"Fun for the whole family."

"You may think my options would be limited, as far as torture is concerned, especially now that you don't have skin to cut. But I've picked up a few new tricks that I think you'll enjoy."

Serpine moved his fingers in a wave motion, directing it at the chair he had just been sitting on. The wood creaked and groaned as it expanded and contracted, as if it was breathing. The detective couldn't avoid looking at it.

"If I can do that to the chair," Serpine said, enjoying the moment, "think what I can do to 226.

bone." There was a loud crack as the chair splintered.

Serpine hunkered down in front of him. "Well, Skulduggery? Where is that tired old defiance--the taunting, the goading? Where are the endless heroic cliches? Aren't you going to look me in the eye and tell me to do my worst?"

"Actually, I was going to ask that you go easy on me; I'm feeling kind of tender today."

Serpine stood, opened his left hand in front of the detective. "This is your one chance. Tell me where the key is."

"Okay."

Serpine raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"No, only joking. Do your worst."

Serpine laughed and his fingers started moving and the detective started screaming.

Chapter Sixteen.

What's in a Name?

227.

Stephanie soaked her elbow in the sink. She had broken off a piece of the rock Tanith Low had given her and dissolved it in the water, filling the sink with bubbles and the library's restroom with a pungent odor. Whatever the rock was, it was doing its job. The bruises on her arms were receding.

She dried herself with a spotless white towel, let the water gurgle into the drain, and allowed herself to sag against the wall.

Her body may have been tired, but her mind was alert and racing, surging with anger.

228.

She was still furious at herself for being unable to disobey China's instruction. How could China have done that to her, to Skulduggery? After he had trusted her?

No, she reminded herself. He hadn't trusted her. That had been her mistake, not his. And because she went to China before the Elders, or even Ghastly, now it could be too late to do anything. And it was all her fault.

What had Tanith Low called Stephanie? A warrior? That was laughable. No matter what Tanith thought she had seen in her, she was wrong. There was nothing warriorlike about her. She ran straight into trouble without thinking, without one moment of hesitation. Not because she was brave or heroic, but because she was stupid. Because she didn't want to be left out, because she didn't want to wait. She didn't have a plan, she didn't have a tactic, all she had was a penchant for raising Cain.

It came to her then. Her eyes widened and she stood up straight, a new strength coursing through her limbs.

And just like that, China's command over her was broken.

229.

She needed Ghastly. She didn't really know where he lived, so she needed his address, and there was only one way she could think of to get it. She left the restroom, pa.s.sing the window, realizing that it was morning already. She crossed the hall to China's apartment and knocked. No answer. She knocked again.

China wasn't in. Stephanie looked at the door. Nothing special about it. She hadn't noticed anything unusual about it on the other side either, no chains or bolts or extra locks. There could be a locking spell placed on it, and if there was, then she'd be wasting her time, but she didn't think there was. Skulduggery had said a locking spell needed to be dismantled every time a door is opened, then cast again. She doubted China would have the patience to do that on a daily basis.

Stephanie took a step back. An ordinary door. An ordinary, flimsy door. It was possible, she knew it was possible. She was tall, and strong. This door was all that stood between her and saving Skulduggery. She had strong legs. Her legs were muscled, a swimmer's legs. They were strong. The door was weak. She could do it. She had to do it. She had to save her friend.

230.

Her boot slammed against the door. She kicked again . . . and again . . . and again. ...

Her legs were strong. She couldn't fail. Desperation lent her strength. The door was weak, and it burst open.

She hurried in, moving right for where she had seen the address book. It wasn't there. It wasn't on the small table. Where was it?

She looked around. China had moved it. Where? Why? Had she known Stephanie would be looking for it? No, there was no way she could have predicted that. Then she had moved it for some other reason, some other ordinary, average reason. She had put it away, she had put it back. Yes, she had put it back in its usual place.

Where would she keep an address book?

Stephanie went to the desk, opening the drawers and rifling through them. Papers, letters, no address book. She turned, eyes searing the room, aware that China could walk through that broken door at any time. She went to the shelves. No address book. Where?

She moved into the bedroom. There, on the nightstand, was the address book.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up, found the B's; her finger moved down the page. Bespoke Tailors. She 231.

memorized the address, dropped the book onto the bed, and turned to go.

"h.e.l.lo, dear," China said.

She walked in and Stephanie stepped back, wary.

"I saw your handiwork outside," China said. "What did my poor door ever do to you? Did you break anything else while you were here? A vase? A teacup, perhaps?"

"Just the door."

"Ah, well, I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies. Did you find what you were looking for, child?"

Stephanie tightened her fist. "Don't call me that."

China laughed. "That look in your eye is almost scary."

"Have you done anything to help Skulduggery, or are you still too busy helping yourself?"

"He inspires loyalty, doesn't he?" China said, an eyebrow raised. "You can't be around our Mr. Pleasant without liking him, without wanting to fight alongside him. You should have been there during the war, you know. You should have seen him then."

232.

"I just can't understand how you'd betray him like this."

For the first time since Stephanie had met her, China's eyes turned cold. "I haven't betrayed him, child. I may have failed him, but I haven't betrayed him. To betray is to act against. I just haven't acted at all."

"Whatever," Stephanie said.

"Not interested in semantics?" China asked, her smile returning. "But of course not. You're a straightforward kind of girl, aren't you?"

"I'm leaving now," Stephanie said as she headed for the door.

"Straightforward," China continued, "but not too bright. Stephanie, would you be a dear and stop?"

Stephanie stopped.

"I admire your courage, child, I really do. But rallying a cavalry to go after Skulduggery is just too risky. Too much could go wrong. Now sit in the corner there, like a good little girl."

Stephanie nodded and walked for the door.

"Stop," China ordered. "I said the corner."

Stephanie reached the door and looked back. China was frowning. "I don't understand.

233.

How are you able to do this? Stephanie, answer me!"

"I'm not Stephanie," Stephanie answered. "And if you want to keep me here, then you'd better be ready to kill me."

China's frown disappeared. "I don't want to kill you, my dear," she said, and the hint of a smile appeared. "So you've finally chosen a name." "Yeah. And I'm leaving. Right now." "Maybe you stand some chance after all. Before you go, will you do me the honor of introducing yourself?"

"Of course," Stephanie said right before she walked out of the apartment. "My name is Valkyrie Cain."

Ghastly opened the door, saw Stephanie, and nodded.

"I'm sorry if I upset you yesterday," he said. "I realize I have no right to tell you what you can and cannot do, but please believe that I was acting in your best--"

"They have Skulduggery," Stephanie said, interrupting him.

"What?"

234.

"Serpine has him. Last night, he came in with his paper men and they attacked him and took him away with them. We need to tell the Elders."

Ghastly tried a smile to see if she'd return it, to see if she'd admit her joke. She didn't smile back.

"You don't know if I should be involved in any of this," she said. "That's fine. That's your opinion, and that's fine. But let's forget about opinion. Let's look at facts. Serpine has Skulduggery, He's broken the Truce. He believes the Scepter is real, and he has proved that he's willing to kill to get to it. He has to be stopped, and I need your help to stop him."

"You saw this? You actually saw Serpine do this?"

"I was there."

He looked at her and nodded. "Then I suppose it's a very good thing you decided to stick around."

They took Ghastly's car, and Stephanie told him exactly what had happened as they sped through the streets to the Sanctuary. The windows were heavily tinted, but even so, he had a scarf wrapped around his face and a hat pulled low over his eyes.

The Waxworks Museum hadn't opened yet, so they let themselves in the back and hurried 235.

through the darkness. Ghastly searched the wall for the switch, found it, and the wall parted. Stephanie was the first to reach the bottom of the stairs, and she strode into the Sanctuary. The Administrator hurried up to her, frowning.

"I'm sorry," he said, "you do not have an appointment."

"We're here to see Meritorious."

"The Elders cannot be disturbed," the Administrator insisted. "I must ask you to leave at once."

"It's an emergency," Ghastly said as he joined her, but the Administrator still shook his head.

"All requests to visit with the Elders must go through the proper channels," he said, but Stephanie had heard enough. She barged past him, heading for the corridor. Suddenly there was a flash of gray and a Cleaver was before her, holding the blade of his scythe to her throat.

Stephanie froze. There was movement all around her, sound all around her, and the only still things in her world were herself and the Cleaver. She could hear Ghastly threatening the Administrator, threatening the Cleavers, and the Administrator protesting and insisting they leave. Ghastly's voice was rising, becoming angry, telling the Cleaver to lower the weapon, but the Cleaver was still and silent, a statue.

236.

Stephanie could see her burnished reflection in his visor. She didn't dare move.

Before the situation could spiral out of control, before Stephanie's head became separated from her body, the Administrator gave in and agreed to ask Meritorious if he would take visitors.

At a nod, the Cleaver stepped away and swung the scythe down by his side and behind him, making the mere sheathing of the weapon into an art form.

Stephanie backed off, moving slowly, but the Cleaver had returned to his post as if nothing had happened.