Until the End, page 30
There was movement inside, movement behind the windows, and then the whole front of the building burst towards her and a Shalgoth came stumbling out. This was a big one, two storeys high and bloated. Tanith twisted the throttle and the back wheel spun and she turned the bike and shot forward, the monster right behind and snapping at her with its great lobster claws.
The bike screamed down the street and she shot across the intersection and the Shalgoth came barrelling after her, throwing parked cars out of its way, snapping lamp posts, roaring at her the whole time. She veered left and it was a mistake, but she had to keep going, and she slalomed between wreckage and rubble.
The sounds of destruction behind her stopped and instantly she turned the bike, barely avoiding the Shalgoth as it landed. She juddered down some steps and was off again, the monster launching itself into the narrow space between the buildings above. It scuttled overhead, tearing chunks out of the masonry on either side. Tanith lowered herself in her seat, the wind ripping at her hair as broken bricks hit the ground all around her. One of them struck the front wheel and the bike wobbled and Tanith sprang off. She curled up and tumbled through the air. The bike skidded along the street on its side, leaving a trail of sparks, and she landed with one foot on its front cowl and the other on the exhaust, surfing it to slow her momentum and then springing off again when the Shalgoth tried to drop on her.
She sprinted round the corner, almost froze when confronted with the squad of soldiers waiting there.
She ducked and they opened fire and the Shalgoth bellowed its anger. Keeping low, Tanith scrambled forward, and one of the soldiers grabbed her and pulled her behind them.
“Cease firing!” yelled the officer in charge, and in the sudden silence the Shalgoth roared, its skin coated with pinpricks of blood. “OK, squad,” the officer said, “conventional weapons are once again proving ineffectual. I guess it’s magic hour.”
He took a bag from his pocket and, one by one, the soldiers pulled out a little square of paper inscribed with a sigil. At the officer’s nod, they each popped the Splashes into their mouths, and these exhausted, drawn, shaken men and women suddenly straightened, their shoulders squaring and their smiles spreading. Energy started to crackle from their hands.
“Let ’em have it,” the officer said, and the soldiers strode forward, blasting the Shalgoth with energy streams. The monster recoiled with every hit, roaring now in actual pain.
“Expose that belly for me!” the officer shouted, pulling a rocket launcher from the back of the truck. The others laughed, some whooped, and one of them took out his phone to record this for posterity.
Tanith watched the Shalgoth rear back. “Hold on,” she said.
“Naw,” said the officer, aiming. “You just stay right there and bear witness. Clear!”
He pulled the trigger and the rocket flew and hit the Shalgoth square in the belly in an explosion of fire and flesh and pink liquid. The soldiers cheered and the Shalgoth toppled, its guts slipping out of its ruined torso.
Tanith frowned. No, not guts.
A dozen creatures came slithering from that mess, finding their clawed feet and sprinting forward. The soldiers panicked, loss their ability to focus their ill-gotten magic, and scrambled for their weapons – but the creatures were on them before a shot was fired, tearing through them.
Tanith ran.
She leaped over a car and the smaller Shalgoths leaped after her, every bit as agile. She flipped over a pile of rubble, her sword skewering the creature that tried to snatch at her. She jumped from a ruined wall to a neighbouring building, and ran straight up the side of it. The creatures scrambled in pursuit, their claws slicing through brick.
She got to the roof, but they were gaining.
A window smashed above her and Skulduggery came tumbling through, tangled up with one of the creatures. He twisted at the last moment, crunching the monster’s head off the rooftop, and then rolling to his feet.
“Rejoice,” he said, “you’re saved.”
Tanith ducked a claw and slashed back in return. The creatures had them surrounded. “Yeah,” she said. “I certainly feel saved.”
A fireball came from nowhere, exploded across the back of one of the creatures, and Cadaver Cain landed beside them.
“Now you’re saved,” he said.
Skulduggery muttered something and the creatures dived at them.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” said Temper, and meant it. He didn’t want to hurt Kierre. He loved Kierre. He remembered loving Kierre. He remembered what that felt like.
Or he thought he did. He frowned. Did he remember it, or did he merely remember remembering it?
Kierre walked in and the heavy door shut behind her and locked. Temper tried to smile in a non-threatening manner.
“I don’t know what to do,” Kierre said.
She was sad. Temper could tell she was sad because of the way her mouth didn’t smile. The corners turned downwards. Temper turned the corners of his own mouth downwards, too, in order to demonstrate that he was also having sad feelings.
“They’re saying we should kill you,” said Kierre.
“Who is saying this?” Temper asked.
“Everyone.”
“Why? Why do they want to kill me? I’m their friend.”
“You were their friend,” Kierre said.
“I’m still me.”
“You’re not you, Temper.”
“Kierre, look at me. Of course I am. I’m Temper Fray.”
“You’re Temper Fray’s Gist. You overpowered the real Temper. He’s gone now, he’s been gone for almost a month, and you’re all that’s left.”
She was right.
“You’re wrong,” said Temper. “It didn’t take over. I fought back. I won.”
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” she asked.
He smiled. “They won’t let me have a mirror. They won’t let me have sharp things.”
“Before they put you in here, they let you see yourself, didn’t they?”
Yes, they did.
“No, they didn’t,” he said.
“You’re lying, Temper. I saw the footage.”
He laughed, caught out. “Yes. They let me see myself. I don’t get what the big deal is. I’m still handsome, right?”
“You’re very handsome, Temper.”
“I’ve still got a killer smile, don’t I?”
Kierre took a pause. “Are you being funny?” she asked.
He smiled, running his tongue over his sharp teeth. Yeah, his teeth had grown. So had his fingernails. His fingers, too. His hands, his limbs, his torso. He’d been a tall man, but now he was taller. He’d been a strong man, but now he was stronger. A fast man, a smart man, a powerful man, and now he was faster and smarter and oh, the power that flowed through his veins made every bit of him tingle. All he wanted was to bound across to this woman he loved and kill her. He loved her so much he wanted to eat her up.
“Do you think they should kill me?” he asked her.
“I don’t know,” Kierre answered. “You’re too dangerous to let loose. It would be kinder to kill you than keep you locked in a cage for the rest of your life.”
“I’m not dangerous.”
“You’re every bad thought Temper ever had. You’re every cruel instinct. You’re every murderous impulse. You’re a killer. You’re a thing. You’re not the Temper I knew. Not any more.”
He watched her. “Let me out of these shackles.”
“I loved you.”
“Let me out.”
“Goodbye, Temper.”
He flung himself at her and the chains snapped taut, his claws almost at scratching distance from her face, and Kierre just stood there, unflinching.
“If you love me,” he growled, “you’d let me kill you.”
She left him in the room, alone.
Beneath the High Sanctuary were the holding cells. Valkyrie had stayed there once or twice, and knew them quite well. But beneath the holding cells there was a dungeon. Until she’d been chained up there, on her knees, she’d had no idea they even existed. As far as dungeons went, however, she’d been imprisoned in worse.
Her clothes were filthy, and stank. The necronaut amulet was still on her belt, but the suit had retreated from the magic-binding sigils glowing on the shackles that had rubbed her wrists raw and bloody.
Creed came to visit, still wearing the Nexus Helmet. She wondered if he ever took it off these days. She wondered if he showered with it on. Slept with it on. He probably did. He probably ruined a perfectly good night’s sleep by keeping that ridiculous contraption on his stupid head.
Valkyrie would have killed for a good night’s sleep. She would have killed to be able to stand up straight, for that matter.
“The Faceless Ones love you,” he said.
She grunted.
“They love you and you betrayed them.”
She wondered what kind of mood she was in today. Sometimes she was cocky. Other times she was angry. Recently, she’d just been frustrated and annoyed and miserable. Each time he entered the dungeon and said those words – “The Faceless Ones love you” – Valkyrie discovered what kind of mood she was in for the day. Her life was nothing if not one endless stream of delightful surprises.
“Now, come on,” she said, “that’s not fair.” Ah, today was a cocky day, it seemed. “I only loved the Faceless Ones because they’d messed with my head. If anyone should be mad here, if anyone should be doing the torturing, it’s me.”
“You are the Child and the Mother of the Faceless Ones.”
“And, as their mum, I’m telling you to let me go.”
“You have their brethren inside you.”
“It sounds weird when you say it like that.”
“I have many knives,” said Creed. “I could cut them out of you.”
“You tried that,” Valkyrie said. The scars on her body were not even healed, and she smiled and showed missing teeth. “You had your healers repair me from my fall just so you could break me apart again.”
Creed nodded. “And I know you’re not afraid of disfigurement. I know you can repair yourself far better than our healers ever could, given the opportunity. I know you can regrow limbs if you ever get a chance to use magic again. You rightly see physical pain as transitory. I know that torture can only have a limited effect on you.”
She nodded. “I accept your surrender.”
“There will be no more torture. You will not be physically harmed again. I will instead focus on that which cannot be repaired – the world outside these walls and the people in it. They can’t be replaced as you would replace a finger, or an eye, or a limb. I am aware that hope sustains you – hope for yourself and for your loved ones. The hope that this unpleasantness will pass and things will return to normal.
“But, of course, I am in the process of removing normal as an option. The role of your Sanctuaries has always been to keep magic from the mortal population of this planet, yet since you’ve been here, they have been given proof beyond all doubt that magic exists and the universe is a much more terrifying place than they could ever have imagined.”
There was a screen on the wall behind him that lit up with news reports showing the Faceless Ones looming over the skyline and the streets crawling with Shalgoth.
“Release the rest of the Faceless Ones,” said Creed.
When he’d first shown her these news reports, she’d wanted to believe the footage was doctored, that it was special effects, that it wasn’t real. But she knew the truth. Magic had been shown to the world in the most awful way possible.
“There is no hope,” said Creed. “You can’t return to normal after this. But, if you release the Faceless Ones that are currently inside you, our Dark Gods will call off the Shalgoth. Mortal lives will be spared.” The screen went dark. “If you don’t, they will let the Shalgoth continue destroying your cities and killing your people.”
“No,” said Valkyrie. “If I release them, it’s over. The mortals those monsters are killing, they’ll die anyway, and more of them. All of them.”
“Not all,” said Creed.
“No,” she said. “Just the ones your gods don’t want to immediately eat.”
Creed came closer. “The people you’re trying to protect are dying. You’re failing them.”
“I’ll fail them more if I do what you want.”
“But you will do what we want. Your capitulation is inevitable. You’re helping nobody, Valkyrie. Your resistance means nothing. There’s no hope for you. You’ve been here for over three weeks. No one has come to save you. Roarhaven is impenetrable. There is no escape, or rescue, or triumph. The world has changed. The world you knew is over.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. We can do something. We can still do something.”
“You can’t.”
“Yes, we can. You don’t know us. You think you know us, but you don’t. There is a way to save the world, there is a way to fix this, and we will find it.”
Creed shook his head. “You’re in the most secure building on the face of the Earth. Skulduggery Pleasant and your allies are busy fighting and dying against the Shalgoth. If there is a way to save the world, you won’t be part of finding it.”
“There’s always a way.”
“Not for you.”
She cracked a smile. “So long as I’m here, I’m alive. And, so long as I’m alive, I have a chance.”
Creed looked at her. “Yes. You do.” He sounded sad. “Very well.”
She frowned after him as he walked to the door. “Very well what?”
The door opened and he turned to her. “So long as you’re here, you have a chance. So long as you’re alive, you have a chance. We cannot allow that to continue.”
“You’re not going to kill me. I still have your gods’ little brothers and sisters inside me.”
“And we will be unable to save all of them. Such is the sacrifice you’re forcing us to make.”
She lost any semblance of the smile.
“Those sigils that China Sorrows carved into your flesh prevent the Faceless Ones from sharing your mind like they’re currently sharing mine,” said Creed. “To remove the sigils, we’ll have to remove the flesh.”
Valkyrie went cold.
“Once they’re sharing your mind, you will release as many of their brethren as you are able to before you die,” he said, and left.
This one was bipedal, over twice Tanith’s height, narrow-hipped and wide-shouldered. Boils covered its pink skin, and its head was squat, its eyes small, its arms so long its clawed fingers dragged on the ground when it walked.
“I’m going to call him Spot,” said Cadaver.
“You called the last one Spot,” Skulduggery said.
“But he didn’t last long, so the name never got the chance to stick. This one’s bigger. He looks like he’ll have more of a chance to establish himself.”
“Will you stop naming the monsters?” Tanith asked, peeking out at it from behind the rubble.
Cadaver tilted his head at her. “Why? Does it make it harder to kill them if they have a name?”
“No,” she said. “It’s just stupid.”
Cadaver made a scoffing sound. “If we didn’t do things just because they were stupid, we’d never do half the interesting things that we do.”
“He has a point,” said Skulduggery.
“You two are meant to have genius-level intellects,” Tanith responded. “Isn’t it an insult to your own intelligence to willingly do stupid things?”
“No,” they both said.
The Shalgoth stalked the area outside a corner store in which cowered at least a dozen terrified mortals. It knew they were close, but it hadn’t seen them. Not yet.
“We have to lead it away,” Tanith said. “Cadaver, it’s your pet, so that will be your job. Once it’s clear, Skulduggery and I will evacuate the mortals.”
“Why can’t I evacuate the mortals?” Cadaver asked.
“Because you have neither a façade nor a trustworthy head,” said Skulduggery. “The mortals would panic.”
Cadaver sounded offended. “There is nothing wrong with my head.”
“Its shape is strange and off-putting.”
“Then we’ll swap and you can lead Spot away.”
“We are not swapping heads,” Skulduggery responded.
The discussion was, thankfully, derailed by machine-gun fire, as a half-dozen soldiers advanced on the Shalgoth from a side street. Backing them up were another five soldiers firing tightly controlled energy streams that kept the monster off balance.
“Ah,” said Cadaver, “some competent mortals. A rare sight, indeed.”
Two more soldiers ran through, leaping at the Shalgoth, tearing at it with superhuman strength. The monster squealed and flailed, trying in vain to dislodge its attackers who now had knives in their hands. They hacked through its flesh. One of the soldiers slipped, grabbed on to the monster’s leg, and skewered its knee. It stumbled and fell and the other soldiers crowded round, blasting the thing to bits.
Once it was dead, they cheered, slapped each other on the back. One of the gun-wielding soldiers slapped an energy-throwing soldier too hard, and a scuffle broke out, and before Tanith could figure out what was happening they were screaming and shooting at each other and within moments they were all lying dead.
Tanith stared. Skulduggery looked away. Cadaver laughed.
Valkyrie woke to see China on her knees on the opposite side of the room. The chains that held her glowed with the same sigils as the ones holding Valkyrie. “You’re still alive.”
China managed a weak smile. “As are you.”
“They torture you?”
“Naturally.”
“Did you tell them everything?”
“Naturally.”
“Think it helped them in any way?”
