Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 7 - 9. Derek Landy
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She blinked, and felt the heat rising. “No. No reason. Just thought. OK, cool, thank you so much for—”
“Oh,” he said, his eyes widening slightly. “Ah, of course. Sorry, I’m a bit slow sometimes. Certain things, you know, it takes ages for them to reach my brain.”
She laughed. “I know the feeling.”
He smiled. “But no, I don’t want your number.”
Her laugh died. “Er… OK then.”
She waited for a little more information, maybe a reason or the name of a girlfriend, but she didn’t get either of those things.
“No problem,” she said, sliding open the door and leaning out into the wind and noise. She gave him a forced smile and stepped out, letting the wind catch her. She adjusted the current and propelled herself upwards, passing through the cloaking bubble that took the train from her sight. Skulduggery swooped in, caught her, one arm encircling her hip.
“Did you get it?” he asked as they hovered there in the light breeze.
“I am morto,” she mumbled.
“Sorry?”
“Mortified. Oh, God, I want to die.”
“What happened?”
She buried her head in his bony shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You brought it up.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, we weren’t until you—”
“I have the co-ordinates,” she interrupted. “It’s in the Alps.”
“Marvellous. I love the Alps. Why are you mortified?”
“Don’t. Want. To talk about it.”
“Your eyes are red.”
“There were Hollow Men in there, being taken to someone who wants to use them for something. Is that illegal?”
“Owning Hollow Men is not illegal, no. It’s unsettling, but not illegal. Hansard didn’t happen to tell you who they’re going to, no?”
“He was tight-lipped.”
“Ah,” said Skulduggery. “Then I can see why you were mortified.”
She glared. “Shut up.”
“How could anyone possibly resist the fabulous Valkyrie Cain?”
“Shut up.”
“Unrequited love is nothing to be ashamed of. Many people have crushes. It’s all perfectly natural.”
“What, like you and Grace Kelly?”
Skulduggery turned his head away. “Don’t talk about Grace Kelly.”
“Oh, so it’s OK for you to make fun of me for having a crush but not the other way around?”
“No, I mean don’t talk about Grace Kelly when I’m flying. I need to focus, and talking about one of the most beautiful women who ever lived makes me inclined to drop you.”
“I’ve seen her photo, you know. She wasn’t that hot.”
Skulduggery looked at her. They floated in mid-air.
“OK, fine,” Valkyrie said at last, “she was. But she had skinny arms. I could totally have taken her.”
“You may be stronger than she was,” Skulduggery responded, “but I dare say she’d have cut you to ribbons with her elocution.”
“She had electric powers?”
“I swear to God—”
“I’m joking. I know what elocution means.”
“Sometimes I wonder about you, you know.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Sometimes I wonder about me, too.”
It could have been worse, of course. There could have been new mages in every part of the Sanctuary, which would have made sneaking in so much more difficult. But there were rooms in the Medical Bay that hadn’t been disturbed in months, and so this was where they stepped into, the wall closing up behind them. Sanguine waited until he thought she wasn’t looking, then wiped the sweat from his brow. But of course she saw it. That last trip had hurt him, and it wasn’t even a particularly long one.
It just confirmed what she’d already known – something had to be done.
They waited until Doctor Nye was alone, and Tanith walked across the ceiling so as not to make a sound. Then she dropped down behind him and politely cleared her throat.
Nye turned, and she pressed the tip of her sword against its long throat. It raised its arms slowly. “You don’t have to kill me,” it said. She hated its voice. It was too high-pitched and too soft. Everything about it screamed weakness. “I can help you,” it continued. “Whatever you need, I can help you.”
“Of course you can,” Tanith said. “And you’re going to.”
“We need access to a prisoner,” Sanguine said, joining them. “One Mr Nocturnal. You’re gonna have him brought here, say you have some tests you have to run.”
“Actually,” Tanith said, “there’s been a slight change of plans as far as Nocturnal goes.” Sanguine frowned at her from behind his sunglasses, and she continued. “I’ve decided that I’ll kill him in his cell. I know the way there, it won’t be a problem.”
“You’re gonna do it yourself? What am I meant to do – play chequers with the doc here?”
She hesitated. How to say this so as not to offend him? “You’re useless, Billy-Ray. Sometimes your power works fine and everything’s great, but then you have a bad day and every time you try to burrow somewhere it hurts. And then you complain, and gripe, and sulk, and really, I’ve had enough of you acting like a child.”
He stared at her, and Tanith wondered if her plan not to offend him had actually worked. Regardless, she pressed on. “I can’t rely on you, and I need to rely on you. You’re a huge part of my plans, and I can’t continue without you. But this injury you’ve been carrying around... it just won’t do. So Doctor Nye here is going to patch you up.”
“I told you,” Sanguine said, “no one can patch me up. It was a botched operation the first time round, and no amount of repair work is gonna fix it.”
“Oh, I’m aware of that. So Nye isn’t going to try and repair the damage. He’s going to rip you open and start all over again.”
“He’s gonna what?”
Tanith looked up. “Doctor Nye, you’re not the bravest of creatures, are you?”
“I have been known to run from my fair share of conflicts.”
“And you’re not the most noble of creatures, either, isn’t that right?”
“Nobility is a crutch for the ethically stunted.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say. Or something