The Dying of the Light. Derek Landy
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of course, it is, though most people don’t usually say it out loud.”
“And you didn’t open the envelope?”
“I was going to,” said her dad, “but I got bored. Is that the only thing in it? It didn’t come with a covering note?”
“Just this.”
“Are you going to see what’s on it?” he asked. “I don’t know if that’s wise. It might be a virus, or an artificial intelligence like Skynet who just wants to usher in nuclear war so that our robot overlords can take over. I don’t know if I’d like the responsibility of setting all that in motion. I mean, I probably would, because at least then I’d be famous, but seeing as how it would lead to everyone dying … I don’t know. I’m conflicted.”
“I doubt it would usher in Armageddon.”
“But you can’t be sure, can you? I’m not equipped to survive Armageddon, Steph. Maybe once upon a time I could have led the resistance, but I’ve gone soft. I’ve lost my edge. I wear slippers now. I never used to wear slippers.”
“What’s this about slippers?” Stephanie’s mum said, walking in.
“Dad’s just saying he could never lead the resistance against a robot army because he wears slippers.”
“This is very true,” her mum said.
“Then it’s decided,” Stephanie’s father said. “When the robot army makes itself known, I will be one of the first traitors to sell out the human race.”
“Wow,” said Stephanie.
“Now that’s an about-turn,” said her mum.
“It’s the only way,” said her dad. “I have to make sure my family survives. The two of you and that other one, the smaller one—”
“Alice.”
“That’s her. You’re all that matter to me. You’re all I care about. I will betray the human race so that the robot army spares you. And then later, I will betray you so that the robot army spares me. It’s a dangerous ploy, but someone has to be willing to take the big risks, and I’ll be damned if I’m about to let anyone else gamble with my family’s future.”
“You’re so brave,” Stephanie’s mum said.
“I know,” said her dad, and then, quieter, “I know.”
Stephanie grinned, left the memory stick on the side table and went to the couch, sank into it and curled her feet up under her. They all watched the rest of Three Days of the Condor and then Stephanie and her mum explained the plot to her dad. When he was satisfied, they said goodnight and Stephanie went up to bed. She climbed beneath the covers and closed her eyes, and a few seconds later her phone beeped. She read the text, sent back an answer and turned on her bedside lamp as she sat up, holding the covers close.
Fletcher Renn emerged from thin air in the middle of her room. “Hi,” he whispered.
“Hey.”
He sat on the bed. He looked good and strong and healthy. He looked tanned. His hair was awesome. He leaned in and they kissed.
“You taste yummy,” she said.
“I’ve just been in New Zealand, eating strawberries. Do you want some? We could pop over …?”
“I’m in bed,” Stephanie said, smiling. “It’s bedtime now. And Skulduggery’s picking me up early to drive over to Cassandra Pharos, so no quick jaunts for me.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Were you in New Zealand with the Monster Hunters or just for the strawberries?”
“Strawberries,” said Fletcher. “There’s a little shop in Wellington that I love. They always have the best strawberries, for some reason.”
She leaned back against the headboard. “So how is life as a big, bad Monster Hunter? Is it official yet?”
He grinned. “It is, and I’m actually enjoying it. Donegan and Gracious are pretty cool. Gracious is such an unbelievable geek, though. It’s like everything he’s ever loved is now on a T-shirt. They asked Dai Maybury to join, too, did you hear that? He said he couldn’t, he was too much of a lone wolf – those were his exact words – but he agreed to be an Emergency Monster Hunter, to be called on only when needed. And now he just won’t go away.”
Stephanie laughed softly. “Sounds like you’re all getting on well.”
“We are,” said Fletcher, nodding. “It’s nice to be a part of something that … changes things, you know? We go after the renegade sorcerers with all their supercharged powers, and we beat them, we shackle them, we throw them in a cell. We stop them from killing innocent people, we stop them from exposing magic, and we move on to the next one. It’s just … it’s a wonderful feeling. To be useful.”
“Look at that,” Stephanie said. “My boyfriend is taking pride in his work.”
“Boyfriend, am I?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
Her smile vanished. “Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. Do you want me to be?”
“Well … yes.”
He leaned closer. “OK. Then I suppose I’m your boyfriend. Are you my girlfriend?”
“That’s usually how these things go.”
He kissed her again. “Good.”
“Sorry,” Stephanie said, buckling her seatbelt. “Dad wouldn’t get out of the shower.”
Skulduggery nodded, didn’t answer, and they pulled out on to the road. Stephanie sat back in her seat. Great. Another one of those days.
Cassandra Pharos was ready for them when they arrived. The door to her cottage was open, and Skulduggery led the way inside. They went down into the cellar, where the coals beneath the floor grille were already glowing orange, filling the chamber with a close, muggy heat. Cassandra sat on the chair, umbrella open and held comfortably over her head. Her lined face, framed by a cascade of grey hair, broke into a smile when she saw them.
“Hello there,” she said brightly.
Stephanie liked Cassandra. She was one of the only people who didn’t treat her like a poor replacement for a real person.
“There have been a few changes to the last vision I showed you,” she said. “Skulduggery, be a dear and turn the water on, would you? Now, while it’s still fresh in my mind.”
Skulduggery turned the valve on the wall, and water sprinkled from the pipes in the ceiling. The coals hissed and steam billowed. Skulduggery waited until Cassandra was lost to sight, then turned the water off.
The first time Valkyrie had come down here, she’d witnessed Cassandra’s vision of the future. The second time had revealed greater detail, and yet there were some aspects that were different. Knowledge of the future changes the future, Cassandra had said. The second time, the vision had begun with Erskine Ravel in his Elder robes, his hands shackled, screaming in agony. That future had already come to pass with two tiny differences – Ravel hadn’t been wearing his robes, and the room in which it occurred wasn’t