Skulduggery Pleasant: Death Bringer Part 12

"I'm... not sure."

"Do you want me to finish your homework?"

"Yeah. Good. You do that."

The reflection nodded, stepped out of the mirror and sat at the desk. Unsettled, with no clear reason why, Valkyrie went back downstairs. Halfway down, someone knocked on the front door. Valkyrie crossed the hall, opened the door, looked out into darkness.

Melancholia stood where the garden path met the pavement. Her hood was down, the breeze playing with her hair, a smile playing on her lips.

"h.e.l.lo, Valkyrie," she said, then held her arms out to either side and said, "Surprise."

Chapter 13.

Shadowknives.

alkyrie felt something cold twist in her gut. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice brittle and sharp. "This is my home."

"I know it is," Melancholia answered. "I've heard Cleric Wreath mention the pier in Haggard so many times that it was really no trouble finding you. So this is where you live, then. How... mundane."

Melancholia smiled as she approached. The hem of her robes flowed over the ground like a river of shadows. "What's wrong? Nothing to say? You usually have lots to say. Are you feeling all right? Are you sick? Are you ill? You don't look ill. Are you putting a brave face on it? You have nothing to prove to me, you know. I respect you for who you are. And who are you again? Oh yes, that's right. Absolutely n.o.body."

"Whatever you want," Valkyrie said, struggling to keep her anger down, "it can wait, OK? My baby sister's inside."

Melancholia's smile grew wider, and now Valkyrie could see the mult.i.tude of symbols that scarred her face. "You have a sister? I didn't know that. Do you think she'll grow up to be as ordinary as you, perhaps? How does it feel, to suddenly go from being the saviour of the world back to being some insignificant little schoolgirl?"

"I'm not going to tell you again. Get away from my house."

"You do not order me around, little schoolgirl. I am the Death Bringer, and you'll always be a silly little child playing grown-up games. I used to be like you, in a way. I used to be scared. I didn't understand what was going on. But then this happened, and all this power came to me, and it all became so, so clear."

Valkyrie shook her head. "What did Craven do to you?"

"What did he do? He did nothing. He released the power I had inside."

"No. He changed you. Look at yourself, for G.o.d's sake."

"Cleric Craven recognised my potential."

"He tortured you."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Nor would I expect you to. It's funny, seeing you stand there, all scared. I'm used to seeing you in your special black clothes that protect you from harm, always with a smirk on your face. You're not smirking, Valkyrie. I distinctly remember a smirk when you told me that I would have to start worshipping you. Isn't that what you said? But you're not the Death Bringer. You don't get to save the world. I do. And so you should really start worshipping me."

"Leave," Valkyrie snarled, then stepped back inside the house, slamming the door. She turned as the shadows in the hallway lengthened and met in the middle of the floor, swirling, thickening, growing. Melancholia emerged from the maelstrom.

"My power is practically limitless," Melancholia said softly. "I'd describe the sensation to you, but words would not be sufficient. To understand what it's like to be a G.o.d, you'd really have to be a G.o.d. Like me."

"Get out of my house."

"I could destroy you and no one would be able to do anything about it. I would tear you from your family. Your friends would be powerless to stop me. The Skeleton Detective? I'd make him watch."

Valkyrie said nothing.

"What's this? No comeback at all? Silence? I'm starting to think that you are scared of me. I bet your heart is beating much, much faster, isn't it? I bet your mouth is dry."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to admit that you're scared of me."

"And then you'll leave? Fine, I admit it. I'm scared of you. I'm terrified of you. Now leave."

Melancholia smiled. "I don't think you're being genuine. Maybe if I say h.e.l.lo to your little sister, maybe then you'd show some genuine fear."

"Take one step and I swear I'll kill you."

Melancholia laughed. Valkyrie heard the back door open and saw Caelan blurring towards them, fangs bared, but the shadows were already curling around her and suddenly Melancholia was taking her shadow-walking. Valkyrie cursed, the shadows went away and she went stumbling to the gra.s.s. She looked up to the Martello tower beside her. They were on the cliffs overlooking the beach. But that was impossible. Shadow-walking was strictly short-range teleportation.

"No other Necromancer could shadow-walk this far," Melancholia murmured, obviously thinking the same thing. She looked back to the twinkling lights of the town. "How far was that? A kilometre? Two?"

At least they weren't in the house any more, or anywhere near Alice. Valkyrie got to her feet, and Melancholia remembered she was there.

"A vampire?" she said. "In your house? Was it coming for me or for you? Ah, I don't suppose it matters. Unless it's feasting on your little sister as we speak. Now that would be amusing."

"Why are you here?" Valkyrie asked. "Why are you out alone? Lord Vile is still on the loose, in case you've forgotten."

Melancholia sighed. "Lord Vile is overrated. Cleric Craven told me that he's really not as powerful as all the stories say."

"Craven? You'd put your trust in Craven?"

"At least he isn't running scared like your skeleton friend. And he has faith. He knows that if Vile does show up, and I doubt that he will, it won't be a fair fight. I'll crush that armour of his with him still inside. What's left of him will ooze out of the eyeholes in his mask."

"And you came all this way to tell me that?"

"I came all this way to tell you that when I save the world, I'm not going to be saving you. You're not on my list."

"I'll get by fine without you, don't worry about it."

Melancholia laughed. "You're so tough, aren't you? With all your fighting moves and your Elemental magic and your dainty little ring. I don't need an object in which to store my Necromancy. My power is stored inside me. I am my own weapon."

"Is there a point to any of this?"

"Yes, actually. There is. You're not on my list."

A fist of shadows crunched into Valkyrie's chest and lifted her off her feet.

"And if you're not on my list," Melancholia continued breezily, "then you don't get saved."

Valkyrie struggled to get to her hands and knees. The shot had knocked the wind out of her. "Seriously?" she managed to say. "We're going to fight?"

"Who said anything about fighting?" Melancholia asked. "I'm going to slash you to ribbons and you're going to take it. I'd hardly call that a fight."

Melancholia frowned, almost to herself, and for a moment she seemed to sway, like she was going to collapse. She suddenly looked drained. She looked exhausted.

Valkyrie stood slowly, warily, looking out for the trap. A moan drifted from Melancholia's lips, and Valkyrie realised it wasn't an act a Melancholia really was hurting.

And then, just as suddenly as the weakness had hit, it left her, and Melancholia straightened up. The darkness turned sharp and whipped across Valkyrie's right arm. Blood sprang into the air and she cried out. Melancholia raised an eyebrow and something sliced Valkyrie's back, opening up her skin as easily as it opened her T-shirt. Valkyrie stumbled, cursed, raised her hand, but the shadows wrapped around her wrist. They tightened and she screamed, the shadows cutting into her flesh like piano wire. The ring flew from her finger into Melancholia's hand.

"A gaudy trinket," Melancholia said, examining it, "containing an insignificant amount of power. Cleric Wreath had faith in you on the basis of this? How disappointing."

Valkyrie pretended to stagger, closing the distance between them, and then she lunged, but Melancholia twisted the darkness into a claw that ripped into her belly. Valkyrie doubled over, gasping at the white-hot pain. Another claw slashed her face. She spun, fell, blood running down her neck. Her face was ruined, cut open like a freshly ploughed field. Shadows snagged her wrists and ankles, holding her in mid-air, her body locked tight.

"All the little jibes," Melancholia said. "All the little taunts."

Knives of darkness cut into Valkyrie's skin and she screamed.

"Don't worry," Melancholia said, "I'm not going to kill you. I'm just going to cut you all over. When I'm done, there won't be an inch of you that doesn't have my mark on it. And even if you get to a doctor and they heal you right up and make all the scars disappear, you'll know that some scars are deeper than that. You'll know they're there, and every moment of every day, you will regret all those little jibes and taunts. Providing you don't bleed to death while I'm having my fun."

"Don't," Valkyrie said. Blood dripped from her torn lips.

"Are you begging? Is the mighty and fearless Valkyrie Cain begging me for mercy?"

"Don't," was all Valkyrie could manage.

Melancholia sent the shadowknives upwards and they cut through Valkyrie's T-shirt, making furrows in her flesh, changing the pitch of her screams.

Chapter 14.

The Call.

alkyrie awoke, lying face down on the gra.s.s. She turned her head slightly, tried to blink, but her eyelids were slashed. There were objects in front of her. It took her a while to register what they were. Her phone, and her ring. She moved a hand. It wasn't easy. Some of her muscles had been severed.

With trembling, blood-caked fingers, she speed-dialled a number.

"Hey," Fletcher said when he answered. "They've got the pizza almost ready. It smells delicious."

"Fletcher," she said softly. "Help."

Chapter 15.

The Doctor is In.

hastly braked beside the Bentley and jumped out of his van, hurrying up to Skulduggery as he stalked through the Sanctuary doors. "I just heard," he said. "Any idea what happened?"

"None," said Skulduggery, not slowing down. "She called Fletcher, said she was on the cliffs. She lost consciousness as soon as he arrived."

Sanctuary officials dodged out of their way, flattening themselves against the corridor walls.

"She'll be OK," Ghastly told his friend. "We have a new doctor. Apparently he's brilliant on a level with Kenspeckle Grouse. Madame Mist brought him in."

"Fletcher said she's cut deep. Kenspeckle would take care not to leave scars."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

Fletcher paced outside the operating theatre. His head snapped up when he saw them. "She's still in there," he said. He was pale. His voice shook.

Skulduggery barged through the doors, Ghastly and Fletcher behind him. Ghastly froze. Valkyrie lay on the table, eyes closed, covered in a blood-drenched surgical sheet. Above her stooped a creature dressed in a smock, with arms and legs longer than Ghastly's whole body. Its eyes were small and yellow, the lids punctured with black thread where they had once been sewn shut. Its mouth had received similar treatment, and its nose had been cut off. There was a scab there now that refused to fully heal.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" Skulduggery snarled, his gun suddenly in his hand.

"Kill me if you must," Doctor Nye said in its high voice, "but if you do so, your friend will bleed to death. Make up your mind. I have a lot on my plate tonight."

"What's wrong?" asked Fletcher. "Who is that?"

"Step away from her," Ghastly commanded. "We'll get another doctor in here."

"Another doctor would not be able to save her life," Nye responded, sounding bored. "These are wounds inflicted with abandon. No method, no design, no finesse. But they are severe, and they are many, and organs have been sliced and arteries nicked. I have completed my examination and I know exactly how to proceed. If you call in another doctor, they would need to start over. By that time, she would be dead."

"You can save her?" Skulduggery asked.

"Undoubtedly. And if I am allowed to get back to work immediately, there won't even be any scarring."

Skulduggery looked at Ghastly, then nodded.

"Get back to work, Doctor," Ghastly said. "Skulduggery, I'm sure you'll want to stay, to make sure he behaves."

"I'm not going anywhere," Skulduggery said. He didn't put his gun away.