The Dying of the Light. Derek Landy
a lackey. Just like Tanith.”
Sanguine went to shake his head, then thought better of it. “We ain’t lackeys. She’s following Darquesse because she’s had this notion for a while now that Darquesse is her messiah, and I’m following Tanith because we’re in love and we’re gonna get married. But be that as it may, I am a practical man, and I see only advantages in my fiancée’s messiah getting killed, so … common enemy.”
“How romantic.”
“I take it,” said Pleasant, “that Tanith doesn’t know that the God-Killers haven’t been destroyed.”
“No, sir, she doesn’t. She’d likely kill me if she found out. And while you may think I’m saying this just because you have a gun to my head, these weapons really are for you. Let’s be straight about this – I wish I didn’t have to give them to you. I was counting on you to figure out a way of taking down Darquesse on your own, but I guess I overestimated your competence, now didn’t I? So here I am, riding in to the rescue, a cavalry of one.”
Pleasant lowered the gun, and Sanguine took a step backwards.
“If you want Darquesse dead, why don’t you do it yourself?”
Sanguine grinned. “Because I ain’t the hero in this scenario. The hero does dumb things like go up against the pretty girl-god, and is liable to get himself killed in the process. Me, I have every intention of surviving the next few days. If I see an opportunity, sure, I’ll take it, but I’m not gonna go looking for it. That’s your job.”
“What are her plans?” asked Skulduggery. “Where will she be?”
“You think I’m privy to those details? To Darquesse, I’m the hired help she hasn’t even hired. She won’t even tell Tanith what her plans are. Seems she thinks Tanith’s faith ain’t what it used to be.”
“Is that true?” Stephanie asked.
“To talk to her, my fiancée is just as determined to bring about the end of days as she ever was. But I don’t know. Closer it gets, the more the doubts seep in. Cold feet, as it were. Of course, when she finds out that I betrayed her, she’s gonna want to kill me. So I’m keeping the dagger.”
“You think so, do you?” Pleasant asked.
“Oh, I know it,” Sanguine said. “You know it, too. From this point on, I’m your man on the inside. Because of that, I need some way to defend myself. So the dagger stays with me.”
A moment passed, and Sanguine thought he had overplayed his hand, but Pleasant motioned to Stephanie and she stood up, held the dagger out for him. Sanguine took it, but not by the blade. He kept his hands well away from the blade.
“The Remnants are out, by the way,” he said, once the dagger was back in his possession.
Pleasant tilted his head. “When?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“No. We would have heard something. The news would be full of reports of disturbances and violence.”
“Even more than it already is? Naw, Darquesse gave them an order, so Tanith said. She told them to behave. Guess they’re obeying.”
“Why’d she do it?” Stephanie asked.
“For one thing, she wants an army should she need it. Another, she’s using Remnants to get all these scientist guys to talk to her about magic and quantum mechanics and whatnot. She’s expanding her knowledge in a big way. Last guy she talked to, a guy she turned into a damn chair not a half-hour ago, told her to read something called the Hessian Grimoire. I were a betting man, I’d say that’s where she’s going next.”
“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