The Dying of the Light. Derek Landy
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a few minutes, Finbar’s chin dropped to his chest. He was asleep. Again.
Stephanie bit back the ridicule. If she said something and interrupted whatever the hell was happening, they’d probably have to start again. The best thing she could do was wait until everyone else at this table realised the stupidity of what they were—
“Valkyrie?” said Cassandra. “Can you hear me?”
Stephanie took a cautious look around. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Valkyrie’s ghost to appear, perhaps?
“Valkyrie,” Cassandra said again. “If you can hear me, give me a sign.”
Nothing. No ghost. No lightning strike. The candle didn’t blow out. Not one thing. Just as she’d thought.
“I can hear you,” Finbar mumbled, without raising his head.
Stephanie frowned. She was about to point out that Cassandra wasn’t talking to him when he muttered something else, then said, “Skulduggery? Where’s Skulduggery?”
“I’m here,” Skulduggery said. “I was beginning to think you were lost to us.”
Finbar’s mouth twitched into a brief smile. “Sorry. You’re not going to get rid of me so easily.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened. No way.
“Valkyrie, what can you tell us about where you are?” Cassandra asked.
“It … it’s dark here,” Finbar said. “Cold. Finbar is like … his mind is at the far end of a bridge, and you’re just beyond that. You’re this dim light …”
“Do you know where you are physically?” Skulduggery asked. “Where is Darquesse right now? What’s she doing?”
Finbar’s frown deepened. “Experimenting,” he said. “Experimenting with magic. Expanding her abilities. When she’s like this, I can … I can talk, and she won’t notice.”
“Hold on there,” Stephanie said. “Wait a second. How can we be sure that you’re really Valkyrie?”
“You don’t get to speak to me,” Finbar said, his voice sharpening. “Last time I saw you, you tried to kill me. Skulduggery, why is she here?”
“Stephanie’s helping,” Skulduggery said.
“You can’t trust her.”
“He can’t trust you,” said Stephanie, the anger rising.
Finbar pointed a finger straight into Stephanie’s face. “Shut. Up.” His arm collapsed back on to the table. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll deal with her when I’m back in control. So how do I do that?”
Cassandra sat forward. “Valkyrie, we’re going to need you to focus.”
“I’m focused.”
“Not now. We need you to prepare yourself, psychically, for what we have to do.”
“Uh,” said Finbar, “how do I do that?”
“By listening, and understanding. I’ve been speaking to every Sensitive worth talking to and, while the chances are slim, we think there is a way to force Darquesse from your body, at least theoretically.”
“Theoretically fails to fill me with hope,” Finbar said.
Cassandra gave a soft smile. “Deacon Maybury has the ability to rewrite personalities. To do this, he builds up psychic walls, constructs corridors for thoughts, and shuts off aspects of the personality that need to be kept hidden. He fundamentally redesigns the architecture of the mind. Not even Argeddion, who also knows his own true name, has broken through these walls.”
“But we don’t want to suppress Darquesse,” Finbar said. “We want to get rid of her. And the only reason Argeddion hasn’t broken through is because he’s unaware of his situation. Darquesse knows what Deacon Maybury can do.”
Cassandra nodded. “Getting rid of her is still the goal, don’t worry. Essentially, what Deacon’s redesign does is to split the original personality in two, creating a pocket personality that is then sequestered off to one side. Working with some friends of mine, I believe I can isolate this part and remove it from your mind.”
Stephanie frowned. “And put it where exactly?”
Skulduggery set a glass orb on the table. “A Soul Catcher will trap Darquesse’s essence just as effectively as a Remnant. What we do with her after that is a conversation for another time. Valkyrie, the only thing you have to concern yourself with is preparing to hold on with everything you’ve got once the Sensitives start their work.”
“I can do that,” said Finbar.
“It won’t be easy,” said Cassandra.
“Dammit,” said Finbar.
“You’ll feel your thoughts splitting,” Cassandra said. “You’ll find it difficult to concentrate, difficult to remember. But you must. You have to focus on something, a word, a phrase, something to latch on to while we’re pulling Darquesse away from you.”
“The sparrow flies south for winter,” Finbar said immediately.
Stephanie heard the amusement in Skulduggery’s voice. He was talking a little faster now, with a little more life to his words. “Yes. Good. When Cassandra and the other Sensitives are doing their thing, I’ll be with you, and that phrase will bind us together. The moment you hear me say it, you focus on it, repeat it, pour everything you’ve got into those six words.”
“I don’t know how long the process will take,” said Cassandra. “It might be minutes. It might be days. You have to be ready for anything.”
“So when do we do it?” Finbar asked.
“Soon,” said Skulduggery. “I don’t want to tell you exactly when. I don’t want Darquesse to pick up on anything unusual. But be ready.”
“OK,” said Finbar. “I can do this. OK. I mean, it’s risky, though. What if she figures out what I’m up to?”
“You just have to hope she doesn’t,” said Skulduggery.
“And we just have to hope that you’re really Valkyrie,” said Stephanie. “Otherwise we’re the ones who’ll be walking into a trap.”
Finbar paused, then said, “I really don’t like you.” He frowned. “I have to go. I’ve talked to you for too long.”
Skulduggery squeezed Finbar’s hand. “I’ll see you soon, Valkyrie.”
Finbar managed a smile, and then his face went blank. A moment later, he snorted, raised his head and opened his eyes, looked around. “Well? Did it work?”
Stephanie pulled her hands back, and folded her arms.
“Oh, it worked,” said Skulduggery.
He was insufferable. Stephanie walked beside him as they made their way through the Sanctuary’s corridors, and Skulduggery would not shut up. He cracked jokes, he told stories, he was by turns smug, arrogant and whimsical and, worst of all, he was paying attention to her.
“I thought you wanted me to talk more,” he said when he noticed her silence. “Can’t have it both ways, Stephanie. I can’t be quiet when you want to sulk and chatty when you want to chat. That’s not how it works. That’s not how I work.”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Well, you’re doing something with your face that resembles sulking. Are you glowering? You might be glowering. Glowering is like sulking only scarier.”
They stepped into the elevator, and Skulduggery thumbed the button for the top floor. The doors slid closed.
“You’re definitely frowning, though,” he continued as they