The Faceless Ones. Derek Landy
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splinters.
She groaned and moved her head slightly to look back at the water. She couldn’t see Skulduggery or the Hag, and the ripples were already spreading out and dying, as if the lake was trying to hide what was going on beneath its surface. Valkyrie rolled over, her dark hair hanging in front of her face, and got up slowly, grimacing when she saw her hands.
The corpse was still standing in the water where they had left him, probably waiting for the Hag to come back and reclaim what she saw as hers. Valkyrie started moving. The corpse had helped them and they’d promised to return the favour.
She ran along the edge of the lake, slipping every now and then, coming too close to the water for her liking. Even so, the Hag didn’t jump out at her, didn’t snatch her as she passed. Skulduggery was probably kicking the hell out of her. At least, she hoped he was.
She got back to the corpse, breathing hard, holding her hands away from her body because they were starting to sting.
“Hey,” she said. “Come on out of there.”
He shook his head. “I can’t move on my own. I’ve spent the last fifty years at the bottom of this lake. I don’t think I can even remember how to move.”
“In that case,” Valkyrie said, “I’ll come and get you.”
“Thank you,” said the corpse.
Valkyrie stepped into the lake. The waters here were calm. No sign of the Sea Hag – which meant that Skulduggery was either keeping her busy or she was lying in wait for Valkyrie to step within easy reach. Valkyrie walked in up to her knees, then her thighs, and when she was waist-deep, she thrust herself forward and swam.
So far, so good. So far, no hands grabbing her and pulling her under.
She reached the corpse and looked up at him. “How do I get you down?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” he replied.
She took a breath and plunged her head underwater. He wasn’t standing on anything. It was as if the lake itself was keeping him upright.
She surfaced, reached out to try and pull him down, but the moment she touched his skin the lake stopped holding him and he splashed down.
“Sorry,” he said.
“It’s OK,” Valkyrie responded, hooking her hand under his chin. She fought the urge to shiver as her hand closed over his ice-cold, mottled flesh, and she swam back to land, taking him with her. Her feet touched the bottom. She held him under the arms and started dragging him out.
“Thank you for doing this,” he said.
“We owe you.”
“It was horrible, in that lake.”
“We’ll find you a nice dry grave, don’t you worry.” He managed to twist his head and look back at her. “If the Faceless Ones return, the world will end. Please promise me you’ll stop them.”
She gave him a smile. “Stopping the bad guys is what we do.”
The moment his feet left the water, his head lolled forward and he stopped talking. He was just a corpse once again.
Valkyrie kept dragging him until they were well clear of the lake and then, very carefully, she laid him down.
She was drenched, she was freezing, her hands were cut and stinging, she had muck and dead flesh under her fingernails and she needed to wash her hair as soon as humanly possible.
Something was happening in the middle of the lake. She looked closer, saw a ripple, moving fast, something breaking the surface. Skulduggery rose up out of the water until he was standing. He skimmed across the lake, hands in his pockets, like he was waiting for a bus.
He slowed as he neared and then stepped on to land.
“Well,” he said, “that takes care of that.” He waved a hand and the water lifted from his clothes, leaving him dry.
“You still haven’t taught me how to do that,” Valkyrie scowled.
Skulduggery picked his hat off the ground and brushed off the dirt. “You’re the one insisting that lessons on fire and air manipulation are more important than lessons on water. You can’t really blame me for how much you resemble a drowned rat, now can you?”
“I’m sure I could manage it,” she said grumpily. “How’s the Hag?”
He shrugged. “Regretting her life choices, I imagine. I see you’ve rescued the corpse.”
“Yes. He’s dead.”
“Corpses usually are.”
“I mean he’s not talking any more.”
“Then there is nothing left to do except honour his wishes. We’ll carry him to the car, trying very hard not to be seen by any passers-by, and take him with us back to Dublin.”
She nodded. Bit her lip.
“What?” Skulduggery asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I don’t mean to sound disrespectful or anything, but it might be weird, being in a car with the remains of a dead man …”
“You do realise that I’m the remains of a dead man too, don’t you?”
“I know, yeah, but … you don’t smell.”
“You make an excellent point. Don’t worry, we’ll put him in the boot. Now then, do you want to take his arms or his legs?”
“Legs.”
Skulduggery picked the corpse up, hands under the armpits. Valkyrie took a hold of the corpse’s ankles and lifted, and the right leg fell off.
“You can carry that,” said Skulduggery.
“I’m a mess,” she grumbled as she got out of the car. “I hate seeing China when I’m a mess. She’s always so immaculate. How does my hair look?”
Skulduggery activated the car alarm. “You have a twig in it.”
Valkyrie yanked the twig out and scowled in pain. She glanced at the car boot as they walked. “Where are you going to bury the body?”
“I know a place.”
“You know a place? Do you bury lots of bodies there?”
“A few.”
“That’s kind of creepy. What about the guy who killed him? Batu? Have you ever heard of him?”
“Never.”
“Maybe the Teleporter murders have nothing to do with Trope Kessel’s murder.”
“And the fact that they’ve all been killed the same way?”
“Could be coincidence.”
“So you’re not worried then? You’re not concerned about the threat of the Faceless Ones coming back?”
She pursed her lips.
“Valkyrie?”
She sighed. “I just wish you