Until the End, page 12
“I didn’t get a message from you on Wednesday. You can check my phone. They took it off me when they arrested me, but you can—”
“Phone records can be altered,” Skulduggery said.
Nefarian looked straight at Valkyrie. “The last time I spoke to you was two weeks ago. I didn’t get a message from you, we didn’t arrange to meet, and I didn’t spend fifteen minutes talking to you. I’m being set up.”
“We talked, Nefarian.”
“I swear to you, we didn’t.”
“You killed Scure right in front of me.”
“You can’t believe that.” He switched his gaze to Skulduggery. “If they think I killed Scure, one of the High Sanctuary’s top Sensitives, they’ll execute me. You know I didn’t do it. You know I was with you.”
“I do know that,” Skulduggery said.
“But I know that you were with me,” said Valkyrie.
“Someone is framing me,” Nefarian snarled. “I understand that you’re probably very busy saving the world from evil-doers, but if you had a spare moment or two to sort this out and save my life I’d be ever so grateful.” He waved his hand in Skulduggery’s face. “I think you owe me that, don’t you?”
They left the building and got into the Phantom.
“This is intriguing,” Skulduggery said, pulling out into light traffic.
They drove in silence for a few minutes.
“OK,” Valkyrie said, nodding behind them, “so that, back there, is the Nefarian that you were talking to on Wednesday night.”
“Yes.”
“So what happened to the Nefarian that I was talking to?”
“You mean the imposter.”
“He wasn’t an imposter, for God’s sake – I’d know the difference. I’m pretty sure I’d know the difference. Wouldn’t I?”
Skulduggery shrugged.
“Well,” she muttered, “that’s helpful.”
“It’s a mystery,” he said. “Mysteries are good. They make you think in unusual directions. When you start thinking in unusual directions, you can solve all kinds of problems – and ‘all kinds’ is precisely the type of problem we are beset with right now.”
“So you’re saying that this extra workload might actually be to our advantage?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Or it might distract us from a threat that could end civilisation as we know it.”
“Or that,” he said, nodding. “But what is life, Valkyrie, if not a journey of discovery?”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Her phone buzzed. She tapped the screen and read the message. “Eraddin Tomb has received another death threat.”
“Please tell me that Ragner hasn’t eaten it.”
She showed him the photograph of the note on her screen. “It’s in one piece, don’t worry. It accuses Eraddin of being a demon. There’s some stuff about the Bible and God, most of it spelled wrong … Huh, that’s interesting. It says, ‘The assassin may have failed, but I will not.’”
“So the gunman in the armoured clothes was hired,” Skulduggery said. “He’s not the one sending the threats.”
Valkyrie swiped the screen. “You’re kidding,” she breathed.
“What is it?”
“The person who threatened Eraddin sent him a photo along with the note,” said Valkyrie. She waited until they’d stopped at a set of traffic lights and passed him the phone.
The photograph was badly lit, and showed a man’s arm and hand brandishing a pistol. His face wasn’t visible. He was wearing a blue T-shirt tucked into jeans. On the table beside him was a stack of unopened mail. Skulduggery tapped the screen and zoomed in on the address.
“Walter Egmont,” he read, “of Brentwood, Los Angeles.”
“Are bad guys getting stupider,” Valkyrie asked, “or are we getting smarter?”
“A little bit of both,” Skulduggery said, passing back the phone and taking the next right. “We’ll have a chat with Walter once we’re done here.”
Valkyrie frowned. “Wait, where are we going? Are we headed for Corrival?”
“We need to talk to Omen,” Skulduggery said. “We need to ask him to do us a small favour regarding Obsidian.”
“You’re going to ask him to lead his brother into a trap, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“He won’t do it.”
“He might.”
“Would you?”
“No.”
“Me neither, and Omen’s more like us than you realise. He won’t do it.”
“Probably not,” Skulduggery said. “But we have to try, don’t we?”
“Mr Darkly,” Skulduggery said, adopting a friendly tone as Omen stepped out of the classroom into the corridor, “have you been staying out of trouble?”
“Hey, Omen,” Valkyrie said, smiling.
Omen ignored her, focusing his gaze on Skulduggery. “Have you found Auger? Is he OK?”
“As far as we know, he’s fine, yes.”
“Then why are you here? You didn’t call me out of maths just to ask how I’m doing.” Omen frowned. “You need me to do something. You wouldn’t be here unless you needed me to do something. It’s the only reason you ever talk to me.”
“That’s not true,” said Valkyrie. “Omen? Omen, please look at me. Why won’t you—?”
“Because you’re the Child of the Faceless Ones,” Omen said, failing to keep the hostility out of his voice. “It’s because of you they’re standing over every city on the planet. You brought them back.”
“But I’m still me,” Valkyrie said.
“No, you’re not. You think you are, but you’re not. The real Valkyrie Cain wouldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t help the goddamn Faceless Ones take over the world.”
“You’re saying that because you don’t understand.”
“What do I need to understand? You’re a bad guy. You’re co-operating with the enemy.”
Valkyrie sighed.
“We do need something from you, you’re right,” Skulduggery told him. “We have to stop Obsidian. He’s hurting people.”
“What people?”
“Roarhaven citizens. He’s wiping them out of existence.”
Omen shook his head. “Auger wouldn’t do that. You know him. He’s a good guy.”
“Auger wouldn’t do that, no, but Obsidian would, and is.”
“Why haven’t I heard about it on the Network?”
“The Network relays information the Sanctuaries want out there. They’re not journalists, Omen. They don’t investigate. Creed doesn’t want panic to spread.”
“What citizens, then? Who has he hurt? Who were they?”
Skulduggery hesitated. “Followers of the Faceless Ones.”
“Like priests?”
“One priest. The others appear to be a random selection of individuals with only their faith to connect them.”
Omen frowned, unable to process what he was being told. “Auger’s killing them?”
“Obsidian is killing them. Wiping them out. Erasing them from existence.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?”
“We need to stop him, Omen. Once we catch him, we can see if there’s a way to help him – maybe even bring Auger back.”
“My parents were told that’s impossible.”
“We don’t know enough about what’s going on to make any kind of assessment like that.”
“And what? You want me to lure him into a trap?”
“Without putting too fine a point on it, yes.”
“I’m not going to help you hurt my own brother.”
“Obsidian isn’t your brother. Obsidian is where your brother should be. He’s taken his place in the world. We just want the chance to bring Auger back.”
“You don’t care about bringing Auger back. You just want Obsidian to stop wiping out more Faceless Ones fanatics. You know why he’s doing it, right? It’s because he knows who the real bad guys are. He knows who poses the actual threat. I mean, doesn’t this prove that it’s still Auger in there? He’s still the hero. He’s still protecting us from the bad guys.”
“Omen—” Valkyrie started.
“I’m not helping you, all right? I believe in my brother. I believe in him a hell of a lot more than I believe in you.”
He looked at Skulduggery. “Or you. I mean, what are you even doing? Why are you still her partner? Why don’t you stop her? The world is ending, Skulduggery! You failed! Do you get that? Do you see? All the times you saved the world in the past? They mean nothing! Nothing! Because here, right here, you failed. You’re not fighting them, you’re not killing them, you’re not destroying them, because of her. Because of Valkyrie. Because you won’t move against her. Why? Because you’re that close? Because you’ve saved each other’s lives a thousand times and you’re not going to abandon her now? You had to abandon her! You had to, because it was the right thing to do, but you didn’t, and now it’s too late because the Faceless Ones are back and they’ve won. And all you’ve done is stand around and watch it happen.
“I used to think I was rubbish compared to you. I used to think I was a stupid, fat little kid who never did anything right. I see it now, though. I’m way better than you. I am so much better. She’s evil, but you? You’re pathetic.”
“Omen …”
“Get lost,” Omen said, and stormed to the stairs.
Valkyrie watched him go, and turned to Skulduggery. “You knew that would happen,” she said slowly.
“We had to try.”
“No. I mean, you knew that would happen. You knew he’d react like that and you knew there was no way we were going to convince him otherwise. So why did you do it? Why did we come here?”
“We don’t have an awful lot of options available to—”
“Skulduggery,” she said, “stop. Why are we here?”
He looked at her and didn’t answer.
Valkyrie nodded. “You wanted me to hear that, didn’t you? You wanted me to hear him say all that.”
“He has a point,” said Skulduggery.
She shook her head. “He’s wrong. He doesn’t understand the situation. He doesn’t understand what the Faceless Ones are going to do. He’s still scared of them.”
“The Faceless Ones are evil.”
“You don’t believe that any more.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then will you trust me when I tell you how much they love the human race? Will you trust me when I tell of the love I feel inside me?”
“Valkyrie …” He shook his head. “You’re compromised.”
“Is that so?”
“They’re changing how you think.”
“Then why are you helping me? Why are we still working together? If you actually believed that the Faceless Ones are going to enslave the human race, then you wouldn’t be running around with me, solving crimes and saving lives. You’d be fighting me.”
“I know.”
“But because you’re not fighting me, that means you have a teensy-weensy bit of faith that what I’m saying is the truth.”
“No.”
“I think you’re in denial.”
“On that, we agree. But what Omen said was right. I’m by your side because of the bond we share. I haven’t abandoned you because of our friendship.”
Valkyrie smiled. “Because I love you.”
“And I love you.”
“Until the end.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Skulduggery?”
“Until the end,” he said softly.
Commander Hoc watched Darquesse scream.
The experts, the people in the lab coats with the clipboards and tablets, had told him this would happen. At first, the damage they were doing to her – physically – wouldn’t register.
The second part of the process, the really interesting part, was when the damage being inflicted wasn’t to her physical form but rather to her magic. Recent advancements in the Research and Development Department had yielded incredible results and a new way of understanding the Source, that dimension composed entirely of magical energy. The same scientists that had managed to widen the Source portals to allow the Faceless Ones to enter this reality were now using their new-found skills to attack the very essence of who and what Darquesse was.
And this, apparently, progressed past the point where Darquesse was able to simply switch off her pain receptors.
And so she screamed.
They were close, Hoc was assured. Close to breaking down her physical form, close to reducing her to energy. The black box, the Cage, was open on the table beside her, ready to drink her in and trap her forever. Some of the scientists, the ambitious kind, were eager to discover what would happen once this occurred. Would they be able to tap into that energy? Hoc had fantasies about turning up to the Supreme Mage’s office with a potent, renewable energy source in his hands. He liked to imagine the smile on Damocles Creed’s face as, finally, Hoc was able to repay him for the faith he had shown in appointing him to his position as Commander of the City Guard.
The future was bright.
Omen slept angry, and woke up incensed, and ate breakfast irritated. By morning assembly, he was merely annoyed, and incredibly tired. It wasn’t easy to sleep angry.
“In these uncertain times,” Duenna was saying from the stage, “precautions need to be taken.”
Omen frowned, trying to steer his thoughts out of the murk to focus on whatever the hell she was going on about now.
“With the unrest caused by the actions of the so-called resistance,” she continued, “with the fear generated by the being known as Obsidian, and now with these so-called Nulls causing trouble on our own streets, Roarhaven has never been less safe.”
“What about when Mevolent invaded?” Never muttered. “Idiot.”
Omen grinned.
“I have no wish to scare you, children. My role as principal is to guide you, to educate you, and to prepare you. It is also to protect you. Corrival Academy is a refuge from what goes on out there, beyond the school gates. Your safety is our primary concern, and as such your bracelets will now allow us to track your location within school grounds during school hours.”
Omen sagged. The bad guys were winning.
“What I’m about to say may be controversial,” said Never as they walked to class, “but who am I to shy away from controversy? This school – wait for it – is going downhill. There, I said it.”
“You’re so brave,” said Omen.
“I’m just saying what other people are too scared to say. Does that make me brave? By definition, I think it does.”
Axelia readjusted the bag on her shoulder. “My parents think I should leave,” she said.
Never looked appalled. “You can’t leave. You’re probably the prettiest person in our year, after me. If you leave, I’ll get all the attention, and I can’t handle that any more. I just can’t.”
“You’re a sweetie,” said Axelia. “But I don’t want to go, either. All my friends are here. What do they expect me to do – go back to a mortal school for my final year? No. No way.”
“Why do they want you to go?” Omen asked.
She nodded behind them. “Because of that. Stuff like that. Third Years being dragged to detention cells underneath the school. My parents, they don’t like Duenna, and they hate Creed, and they don’t want me around these people. Roarhaven has gone from being the greatest city in the world to the home of killers and fanatics.”
Never flicked their hair out of their eyes. “You wouldn’t be able to leave, even if you wanted to. None of us would. Creed needs us here. We’re his insurance in case the resistance do anything too crazy.” They held up their bracelet. “Duenna says these things only track our movements when we’re on school grounds – but how do we know they won’t be keeping tabs on us when we head into Roarhaven? I’d say they’re even listening to us.”
Axelia frowned. “But … they can’t spy on their own pupils.”
“Legally, they can. China Sorrows had it written into what passes for Roarhaven’s constitution. It’s the bit that’s skipped over in civics class.”
Axelia sat forward. “So they could already be listening to us? At all times?”
“Maybe, yeah.”
She stared. “Why aren’t you more freaked out about this? Omen, why aren’t you freaked out? Why aren’t you angry?”
“I’m very freaked out,” said Omen. “I’m very angry.”
“I’m not freaked out because this is not the first time this has occurred to me,” Never said. “I’ve had time to adjust to the startling intrusion upon my privacy. I’ve been having fun with it, actually. I talk in code to a bush. You know the bush beside the tree shaped like a tree?”
“The tree shaped like a tree?” said Axelia.
Never sighed. “There are trees shaped like hands and trees shaped like old men, all gnarly and bent over, but this is a tree shaped like other trees. You know which one I’m talking about?”
“I think I do,” said Omen. “The one near the Science Block?”
“That’s the one,” Never said, nodding. “Anyway, there’s a bush beside it.”
“What’s the bush shaped like?” Axelia asked.
“What? It’s just a bush. It doesn’t have to be shaped like anything.”
“I’m so confused. I’m still angry, but now I’m also confused.”
“I talk to the bush in code,” said Never. “I’ve been doing it since we got the bracelets. I’m totally giving the game away right now if they’re listening, but what the hell, right? I’ve been reporting to this bush every day at the same time, and I stand there and don’t look at it, but I whisper codes that I just make up on the spur of the moment – you know, like I’m reporting to my secret resistance contact, or whatever. If I’m wrong, and no one’s been listening to us, then I’ve been wasting my lunch breaks on a prank that wasn’t even that funny to begin with. But I try not to think about that.”
“You’re such an odd person,” said Axelia.
They got to class and Omen managed to keep up, but his attention span started to flounder in the second lesson, and by the time the third one swam by he was adrift. He got to lunchtime without making a fool of himself, though, and sat at his usual table. He scrolled through his phone while he waited for his friends to join him.
