The Dying of the Light. Derek Landy
thoughts. It’s a loop of nonsense. Go off and think about it, OK? It took me a while to come to terms with all this, too. But I’ve learned so much. And not just about how to mix and match atoms and particles and molecules and stuff. Other things. Fun things. You know the God-Killers?”
“Uh … yeah, like the Sceptre …”
“Actually, no, I’m talking about the sword and the dagger and the stuff you and Tanith stole.”
Sanguine felt the blood drain from his face. She knew. Oh, God, she knew. And he didn’t even have the dagger with him. He’d been worried that she’d notice it under his jacket. Why the hell hadn’t he just brought it anyway? “Sure, right,” he said. “What about them?”
“Do you know how they were made?” Darquesse asked. “Those four? Other God-Killers were made in different ways, of course. The Sceptre was forged by the Faceless Ones somewhere, but these four weapons started out as ordinary objects. Nothing special about them. But then they were left in this pool of water, deep inside the caves under Gordon Edgley’s house. Whatever qualities that water had, it made the weapons soak up magic, made them acquire the ability to kill a god. Isn’t that fascinating? It goes against everything we’ve been told about how magic works. I’d love to find that pool. Don’t you think that’s fascinating?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Pretty fascinating.”
“Billy-Ray?”
“Yes?”
“You look nervous.”
“Yeah. I guess I am.”
“You think I’m going to turn you into a cushion, even though I told you it wouldn’t matter if I did?”
“That’s why I’m nervous, Darquesse.”
She chuckled. “You’re funny. I don’t know how I didn’t see that when Valkyrie was in charge.”
“Maybe my humour is an acquired taste.”
“Maybe.”
“I just popped by to make sure everything was, y’know, hunky-dory. I’m actually heading out again.”
“Oh? Where are you going?”
“Just out. Just headed out. Errands to run. I’ll be back later, so … OK, well, I gotta go.”
“See you soon,” Darquesse said, smiling, and Sanguine smiled back. He walked out and immediately sank into the ground.
He turned, moving deeper through the darkness. The familiar rumble of shifting rocks filled his ears. It used to make him feel safe. There were only a handful of people in the world who could do what he did – even fewer now, after what had transpired during the War of the Sanctuaries – and that little fact had transformed the dark and the cold into a refuge. Down here, he couldn’t be touched. Down here, he couldn’t even be found.
But Darquesse could find him. There would be no escape from her down here, not if she were coming after him.
He piled on the speed.
He didn’t pay attention to how fast he was going. Sometimes he liked to time himself. Not tonight. He got to his place in Dublin, rose up through the cracking, crumbling floorboards. The first blush of dawn brightened the house, not that he needed light to see. There weren’t even any bulbs in this small house on this quiet street. No one knew about this place. Not even Tanith. The only people he’d brought back here were—
“Move and I shoot.”
Sanguine yelled and spun.
Skulduggery Pleasant was sitting in Sanguine’s favourite arm-chair, the one in the corner. His hand was on the armrest. In his hand was a gun.
Sanguine stayed perfectly still. He was too busy getting over the fact that there was someone in his house to even think about trying something sneaky.
The girl walked in. The reflection, Stephanie. She walked right by Sanguine like she didn’t have a care in the world. For a moment, she was close enough for him to grab, maybe use as a shield. But she knew that. She was testing him. They both were. He wasn’t going to fall for it.
She went to the couch. Sat. Looked at him like she was bored. He started to feel that maybe now was the time to start speaking.
“I’m real glad you’re here,” he said.
Stephanie laughed and Pleasant tilted his head.
“I’m serious,” Sanguine continued. “I was coming to talk to you, actually. I just stopped off here on my way to Roarhaven to, y’know, collect my thoughts. And a few other things.”
“Where is she?” Pleasant asked.
“Darquesse is with Tanith.”
“And where is Tanith?” Stephanie asked.
“With Darquesse.”
“I don’t have to shoot anything important,” Pleasant said, pointing the gun at his legs. “I can just shoot something painful.”
“I don’t want you to shoot anything, but I’m not gonna tell you where they are. You really think Darquesse won’t be able to sense a strike team if they get in close? And then who’ll she blame for telling you where to find her? Momma Sanguine’s favourite boy, that’s who.”
“Then if you weren’t going to tell us where she is,” Stephanie said, “why were you coming to see us? Unless, of course, you were fibbing about that.”
“Stephanie, I’m insulted. I would never fib to you. I can’t tell you where she is, but I can help you stop her. Would you be interested in such a deal?”
Pleasant’s head moved slightly, casting a deeper shadow over his jaw. “What could you possibly offer us?”
Sanguine gave him a smile. “Gifts. Gifts that you would find very useful indeed.”
“Oh,” said Pleasant. “You mean the God-Killers.”
Sanguine’s smile faded. “What?”
And now Sanguine noticed the blanket on the couch beside Stephanie. She pulled it back, revealing the sword, the dagger, the spear and the bow.
“You found them.”
“Yes we did,” said Pleasant. “Very good hiding places, by the way. Took me all of six minutes to find all four. These are your gifts, I presume? You’re gifting these to us?”
“Uh, yeah. Kinda. They weren’t easy to keep a hold of, let me tell you. See, the weapons I told Tanith I was melting down were—”
“Forgeries,” Pleasant said. “Yes, we figured that out, thank you.”
“No problem,” said Sanguine. “However, I’m just gifting you with three of these weapons. I’m actually keepin’ the dagger for my—”
Sanguine made to take a step towards the sofa and all at once Pleasant was on his feet and across the room with the barrel of the gun pressing very firmly against Sanguine’s forehead.
“Woah.”
“I told you not to move,” Pleasant said, his voice dangerously quiet.
Sanguine licked his lips. “I thought we were over that. I thought we’d