The Dying of the Light

“Did he say why he was here?” Skulduggery asked.

“He did not. I pressed him, but he seems to believe he has information best delivered personally. I told him you were scheduled to brief Grand Mage Sorrows on your investigation, and when you were finished, if you were so inclined, you would perhaps speak with him.”

“That’s fine,” Skulduggery said.

“Mr Wrong is a most unusual man,” Tipstaff continued, frowning slightly. “He tried to convince me to allow him to give me a tattoo.”

Stephanie grinned at the idea. “And you said no?”

“I did,” said Tipstaff. “I simply don’t have room for another one. Miss Sorrows will be joining you in the Room of Prisms shortly. Have a good day.” He gave them a nod and veered into another corridor, leaving them to continue on on their own.

“What do you think he wants?” Stephanie asked.

“I don’t know,” Skulduggery said.

End of conversation.

Stephanie came to an abrupt halt. “I’m sick of this.”

Skulduggery stopped and looked back. “This?”

“This,” she said, pointing between them. “You and me. The awkwardness. The silences. That uncomfortable feeling.”

He tilted his head.

“I’m not her,” Stephanie said. “But you seem to think that I’m trying to be. Even though I’ve told you a hundred times that I have no interest whatsoever in replacing Valkyrie. I’m helping you because you asked for my help. You came to me and you asked. For my help. Not the other way around. I’m not the annoying little girl tagging along.”

“I know that.”

Anger flashed. “So stop treating me like I am.”

Skulduggery went quiet for a moment. “I see.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think you do. You’re caught up in our mission and that’s fine. You’re in mourning for Valkyrie, and that’s fine, too. That’s understandable. But don’t punish me for everything that’s happened.”

“I don’t want to punish you, Stephanie.”

“Then stop making me feel like this.”

“I’ll … try.”

All at once, her anger vanished. She felt bad. His best friend had, essentially, died, and she was berating him for not being his usual cheerful self.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did. And there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with you, either. You’re a good person, Stephanie. Or you’ve become one, anyway. You’ve proven yourself. And I appreciate how difficult it must have been to say that just now. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she mumbled.

He swept his hand before him. “Shall we continue on? We don’t want to keep the Grand Mage waiting.”

Stephanie smiled, and they resumed walking. She opened her mouth to speak, but Skulduggery held up a finger to silence her. He tilted his head at the look on her face, took her arm gently and led her down an adjoining corridor. She began to hear a raised voice. Female.

They got to the corner, saw Eliza Scorn standing toe to toe with China. It looked like Scorn would have thrown a punch if the Black Cleaver hadn’t been standing at China’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you just admit it?” Scorn snarled. “You sent Vincent Foe and his gang of degenerates over to the Church to join us. I want a Sensitive down here right now to pick the truth from the filthy recesses of your mind.”

“That’s hardly necessary,” China said, the epitome of calm. “Even if I did do that, which I did, the fact is your weasel-faced little man didn’t know any better, and he allowed it to happen. So the raid you’re here to lodge a complaint against was entirely justified.”

“You set us up!”

“And your man fell for it and, in doing so, broke the terms of your Church’s agreement with this Sanctuary. This is all very regrettable, though it isn’t really, and I wish to assure you that I, in no way, derive any personal satisfaction from any of this, even though I so obviously do. If you feel the need to vent any more of your frustration, please feel free to do so, as I intend to build a collage of this moment and I’d like some more amusing anecdotes to go along with it.”

Scorn jabbed a finger at her. “This isn’t over.”

“I dare say you’re right,” China said, and smiled as Scorn stormed away. She waited a moment, then turned her blue eyes on Stephanie and Skulduggery. “Good morning. I take it you heard all that?”

“We did,” Skulduggery said.

“Was I as marvellous as I thought I was?”

“You were supremely aggravating and terrifically smug.”

“Oh!” said China. “The perfect combination! Come walk with me. Tell me good news.”

They took up positions on either side of her and moved down the corridor, the Black Cleaver a silent shadow behind them.

“I’m afraid good news is in short supply,” Skulduggery said. “Darquesse has freed the Remnants.”

“She did what?”

“We sent people to the Receptacle to check. Most of the guards there are dead or injured. Two are missing, probably possessed.”

For a heartbeat, it looked like China might narrow her eyes in anger, but she took a deep breath, exhaled, and calm was restored. “Where have they struck first?”

“That’s just it,” Skulduggery said. “They haven’t struck anywhere.”

China frowned. “So where are they?”

“We don’t know,” said Stephanie. “There’s been nothing on the police scanners or news reports, either.”

“This is just what we need,” China said. “Darquesse, the renegades, and now the Remnants. Do you think they’d be nice enough to stay out of trouble while we deal with the first two?”

“It’s always possible,” said Skulduggery.

A pair of sorcerers passed, nodding respectfully to China, and Skulduggery waited till they were out of earshot before continuing.

“The Remnants, in their natural form, are very hard to control. It’s only when they’ve possessed a host that they can take orders. Darquesse may think she has herself an army, and she may well be right, but there’s a chance that she’s overestimated her control over them.”

“I don’t like relying on chance,” said China. “The remaining renegades are still lying low, aren’t they? Well, until they resurface, tell Vex and Rue to take the Monster Hunters and track down the Remnants. Once we know where they are, we’ll take care of them once and for all. If the renegades poke their heads up in the mean time, we’ll take care of them, too. No more half-measures. From this point on, when we solve a problem, it stays solved. No matter what. You two, meanwhile, keep your sights on Darquesse. Have there been any developments on that side of things?”

“We’ve spoken to Billy-Ray Sanguine.”

“You have him?”

“We spoke to him.”

“You let him go?”

“Sanguine finds Darquesse’s long-term goals objectionable,” Skulduggery said. “In his own way, he seems to be on our side.”

“He’s been on our side before, and he’s betrayed us.”

“He’s given us three God-Killers as a show of faith. The ones he destroyed were forgeries.”

“I see. Did he tell you where to find Darquesse?”

“He told us her next move. She’s looking for the Hessian Grimoire.”

China frowned again. “The Hessian? But that … that’s all theory. There’s nothing at all practical within those pages. I could name a hundred grimoires that would be more useful than the Hessian.”

“The Hessian Grimoire contains knowledge,” Skulduggery said. “That’s what she’s after. The only reason most of those theories remain theories is because there’s been no one powerful enough to test them. Until now. If she gets her hands on that … it’s all over. The one advantage we have is that we know where the grimoire is being stored, and Darquesse doesn’t.”

“It won’t take her long to find out,” China said. “You need to get to it before she does.”

“Agreed,” said Skulduggery. “I was thinking we go and get it tonight, actually.”

“What a coincidence,” said China. “So was I.”

They walked to the lobby and found Finbar Wrong asleep on one of the chairs. His tattered denim jacket was covering him like a blanket and his Doc Martens were off.

“Finbar,” Stephanie said, shaking him gently.

“Mmm.”

“Finbar, wake up.”

He opened his eyes slowly, blinked up at her and grinned sleepily. “Oh, hello. Mmm. Sorry. Where am I?”

“Roarhaven,” Skulduggery said. “You have something for us?”

“I’m in Roarhaven?”

“You are.”

“How did I get here?”

“We don’t know.”

“Maybe I drove. I think I drove. I probably drove. Can I drive?”

“Tipstaff said you had information for us.”

“Who’s Tipstaff?”

“The Administrator. The man you were talking to about tattoos.”

“That’s Tipstaff? I was calling him Kevin. Aw, man, that’s so embarrassing.”

He held up his hands and Stephanie pulled him out of the chair.

“You’re not used to early mornings, are you?”

He shook his head. “Early mornings were invented by the system to keep the people occupied. But not me. I’m on to them. They’re not gonna catch me napping. Metaphorically, like. Obviously, they can catch me physically napping like, four or five times a day, but, metaphorically, I am so far beyond their reach.”

“Finbar,” Skulduggery said.

“Hey, Skul-man.”

“Hello, Finbar. You told Tipstaff you had information you could only pass on to us personally. So here we are.”

“There you are,” Finbar said, his eyes narrowing as he looked around. “Can we trust the others?”

“There’s no one else here,” Stephanie said.

“Oh. But aren’t we being monitored or something?”

“Nope.”

“Oh. Well, OK then, though I’d seriously look into planting a few microphones around here. You never know what people might be whispering about.”

“Finbar.”

“Right. Yeah. Something big has happened. Something huge. Last night, while I was asleep? I had a dream about Valkyrie.”

Stephanie looked at him. “So?”

“So, um, so I had a dream about her.”

“So what?”

“No, no,” said Finbar. “I don’t mean I just had a dream and Valkyrie was in it. Although, yeah, I do. But what I also mean is that Valkyrie came to me in a dream.”

“What do you mean, she came to you?” asked Stephanie.

Skulduggery tilted his head. “What happened?”

“I was in some vast city,” said Finbar, “full of neon lights and skyscrapers. I was a Power Ranger. I don’t know why I was a Power Ranger, but I was. I was the Red Ranger. Sharon was dressed up like Princess – y’know, from G-Force? Anyway, we had to rescue our son, who was this weird turtle thing, from all these kaiju – Godzilla and Mothra and Rodan, and for some reason King Kong was there as well, but I don’t think that’s relevant.”

Stephanie blinked. “You don’t think that’s relevant?”

“He’s not a kaiju, is he? Not technically. He’s just a giant ape.”

“Where does Valkyrie enter into all this?” Skulduggery asked.

“Ah, yeah, right, OK, so there we were, me and Sharon, and we were fighting these people made from broccoli, which I’m pretty sure was a dream nod to a Warren Ellis comic, and then Rodan came thundering towards us and it all looked bad, it looked like we were about to die, and then the ground, like, exploded, and there was this … this thing … with all these tentacles, bursting up and grabbing Rodan, and it threw him away, over the skyscrapers. And then it turned to me, and I couldn’t see a face, but I heard its voice, and it was Valkyrie. She called my name and said, ‘Help me.’ And then I woke up.”

“That’s it?” Stephanie asked, frowning.

“Well,” Finbar said, “there was a bit more action with the Fiery Phoenix and some mechs, but I don’t think you’d be interested in any of that unless you’re a big anime fan. Are you?”

“I meant,” Stephanie said, “is that it as far as Valkyrie’s concerned?”

“Oh,” Finbar said. “Yeah, it is.”

“Then I must be missing something. You had a dream where you were fighting Godzilla and you heard Valkyrie talking. You’re not saying it’s a premonition, are you? Because there’s no such thing as Godzilla, and you’re not a Power Ranger.”

“Not a premonition, no. But I think Valkyrie was trying to communicate with me.”

“How do you know it wasn’t just another part of the dream?” asked Stephanie.

Finbar answered her frown with one of his own. “Because I’m a psychic. I know the difference. I usually know the difference. Sometimes I know the difference. I’m sure it was her, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“But Valkyrie’s gone,” said Stephanie. “If you heard her voice, that was Darquesse.”

“But why would Darquesse be asking for my help?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Stephanie. “Maybe it was just part of the dream.”

“It was part of the dream,” Finbar said. “And it was also Valkyrie trying to communicate.”

“How sure are you?” Skulduggery asked.

“Relatively,” Finbar said.

Skulduggery took Finbar’s arm. “Come with me,” he said, leading him out of the lobby.

“But my Doc Martens …”

“You can pick them up in a minute.” Skulduggery pushed open a door, made sure the room was empty, and closed it once Finbar and Stephanie were both inside. He pulled out his phone, dialled and put it on speaker.

Cassandra Pharos answered. “You just can’t stay away from me, can you?”

“Be warned, Cassandra, you’re on speaker.”

“Oh, phooey.”

“I’m here with Stephanie and Finbar.”

“Good morning, Steph. Finbar, what has you up this early on a weekday?”

Finbar frowned. “It’s a weekday?”

“Valkyrie came to him in a dream,” Skulduggery said. “She said ‘help me’ and disappeared.”

“I see,” Cassandra said. “Finbar, it was really a communication? You’re not getting confused again, are you?”

“I’m sure,” Finbar said. “The TV wasn’t even on this time.” He glanced at Stephanie. “Last time I thought someone was contacting me, it was William Shatner.” He looked back at the phone. “But this time I’m sure, Cassie. It was her. It was Valkyrie.”

“How would Valkyrie even know how to possess someone?” Stephanie asked. “If the dream was real, how do we know it’s not someone pretending to be her? Either a Sensitive or Darquesse herself? Maybe they want to lie to us or distract us or just spy on us. We don’t know it’s Valkyrie. Valkyrie’s gone.”

“I’m not entirely convinced of that,” said Cassandra. “There is a possibility that Valkyrie could merely be subdued, in the same way that Darquesse was when Valkyrie was in control. If that’s the case, it’s entirely reasonable to assume that she’s diverting some of Darquesse’s power to contact us without Darquesse even being aware of it.”

“But Valkyrie doesn’t know how,” Stephanie said.

“She knows everything Darquesse knows,” said Skulduggery. “And Darquesse learns, adapts, and acquires new abilities at a remarkable rate.”

“Is this what you think,” Stephanie asked, “or what you hope? You’re all acting like Valkyrie is still there to be saved. I’m here to tell you, as the only one who could possibly know, that there is no Valkyrie any more. I know how strong Darquesse is. She would have swallowed Valkyrie whole.”

“Is that what you think or what you hope?” Skulduggery murmured. She glared at him as he spoke into the phone. “If it is Valkyrie, and I’m not saying it is, how do we use that to help her?”

“I don’t know,” said Cassandra. “There are two distinct viewpoints within her mind, and yet they’re the same personality. Theoretically we could push one aspect down, suppress it, using some of the techniques we employed with Argeddion. But we’d need some very powerful Sensitives to do it.”

“This is insane,” said Stephanie. “If we go after her with the intention of subduing her, she’ll kill us. We agreed on this, Skulduggery. We agreed that if I had the shot, I’d take it.”

“If we have no other choice.”

“We don’t.”

“We have this,” he said. “This is a choice. If that is Valkyrie, she’s reaching out to us.”

“You’re putting the world in danger for someone who’s already gone.”

“I’m not giving up on her unless I absolutely have to.”

“Even if it works, what then? Darquesse is pushed back down into the dark corners of Valkyrie’s mind. So what? She’ll rise to the top. She’ll emerge. She’ll take over. Just like she’s done before. If she can be saved, then the only way to do it would be to do what was done to Argeddion. Push everything down. Repress everything, and rewrite her personality. Give her a new mortal identity and send her away where she’ll never bother anyone ever again.”

“She could be right,” Cassandra said quietly. “That might be the only way to save Valkyrie’s life.”

Skulduggery didn’t answer.

There was the opportunity to travel, for one – though as a Teleporter, travel was pretty much Fletcher’s thing anyway. But then there were other perks, too, like being part of an internationally recognised and respected team of adventurers. Although they weren’t quite as recognised and respected as Fletcher had been led to believe. Most of the sorcerers they spoke to around the world had only a passing notion of who they actually were, being more familiar, in fact, with the books they wrote than their actual real-life escapades.

Gracious O’Callahan – the short, strong one with the muscles and the T-shirts – and Donegan Bane – the tall, dapper one with the skinny jeans and the skinny ties – spent most of their time signing autographs and posing for photos while Dai Maybury stroked his beard and looked on with envy and Fletcher was ignored altogether.

The reason they’d got as far as they had in their search for the renegade sorcerers had nothing to do with the Monster Hunters at all, and everything to do with the two men who accompanied them. Dexter Vex, he of the chiselled abs and the scuffed boots, and Saracen Rue, of the winning smile and the designer suits, had a reputation that all but guaranteed straight answers to their many questions. The Dead Men were taken seriously wherever they went.