Playing With Fire. Derek Landy
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He moved past her and she glowered then followed him to the third floor. They walked to the middle door and a slight man with large round spectacles and a bow tie opened it and let them in.
The library was a vast labyrinth of tall bookcases, one that Valkyrie had managed to get herself lost in no fewer than eleven times. It seemed to amuse Skulduggery no end whenever she found herself at a dead end, or even better, back where she had started, so she let him lead the way.
China Sorrows passed in front of them, wearing a dark trouser suit with her black hair tied off her face. She stopped and smiled when she saw them. The most exquisitely beautiful woman Valkyrie had ever seen, China had a habit of making people fall in love with her at first glance.
“Skulduggery,” she said. “Valkyrie. So good to see you both. What brings the Sanctuary’s esteemed investigators back to my door? I’m assuming it is Sanctuary business?”
“You assume correctly,” Skulduggery said. “And I’m sure you already know why we’re here.”
Her smile turned coy. “Let me think … a certain recently-liberated Baron? You want to know if I’ve heard any particularly juicy rumours?”
“Have you?” Valkyrie asked.
China hesitated, looked around and gave them another smile. “Let us talk privately,” she said, leading them out of the library and across the hall, into her luxurious apartment. Once Skulduggery had closed the door she took a seat.
“Tell me, Valkyrie,” she said, “how much do you know about Baron Vengeous?”
Valkyrie sat on the couch, but Skulduggery remained standing. “Not a whole lot,” she said. “He’s dangerous. I know that much.”
“Oh yes,” China agreed, her blue eyes twinkling in the lamplight. “Very dangerous. He is a fanatical follower of the Faceless Ones, and there is nothing more dangerous than a zealot. Along with Nefarian Serpine and Lord Vile, Vengeous was one of Mevolent’s most trusted generals. He was assigned to their most secret operations. Have you ever heard of the Grotesquery, my dear?” Valkyrie shook her head.
“Before he was caught, Baron Vengeous was given the task of resurrecting a Faceless One from the remains found in a long-forgotten tomb.”
Valkyrie frowned. “Is that even possible? Bringing one of them back to life after all this time?”
It was Skulduggery who answered her. “Bringing a Faceless One back whole proved to be beyond his abilities, so Vengeous combined the remains with parts and organs from other creatures, forming a hybrid, what he called a Grotesquery. But even then an ingredient was missing.”
China took over. “Two ingredients actually. First, he needed a Necromancer’s power to revive it and then, once it was alive, he needed something to keep it that way.
“When Lord Vile died, Vengeous thought he could harness Vile’s power. Vile was a Necromancer, a practitioner of death magic – shadow magic. It is the Necromancer way to place most of their power in an object, or a weapon or, in this case, his armour.”
“So if Vengeous wore that armour,” Valkyrie said, “he’d have all Vile’s power …”
“But he couldn’t find the armour,” Skulduggery said. “Lord Vile died alone, and his armour was lost.”
“What about the other missing ingredient? Did he find out what that was?”
China answered. “From what I have heard, yes. He did.”
“So what is it?”
“He knows. We don’t.”
“Ah.”
“Fortunately for us, and the world at large, Skulduggery was around to foil this plot before Vengeous could find the armour and retrieve this mysterious missing ingredient. He tracked the Baron to a known enemy hideaway and brought him to justice, in what became one of the most talked-about battles of the entire war. Skulduggery was badly injured in that fight, if I remember correctly.”
Valkyrie looked at Skulduggery and he folded his arms.
“This is a history lesson,” he said. “Why are we going over this?”
“Because,” China said with a smile, “I have heard that this final missing ingredient – whatever it is – has at last been recovered, or at least located, by the Baron’s associates.”
Skulduggery’s head tilted. “Who are these associates?”
“I’m afraid not even I know that.”
“So if Vengeous now has the missing ingredient,” Valkyrie said uneasily, “can he revive the, uh, the Grow Thing?”
“Grotesquery,” China corrected.
“And no,” Skulduggery said, “it’s impossible. He’d need Vile’s armour, which he doesn’t have.”
“But if he did, and he revived this thing, what would it do? Would we be able to stop it?”
Skulduggery hesitated for a split second. “The threat the Grotesquery would pose is a little bigger than that. Theoretically, it would be able to summon the Faceless Ones back to this world by opening a portal through realities.”
“A portal?” Valkyrie said, a little doubtfully.
“Yes, but the Grotesquery would have to be at full strength to do it and that’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“A heart had to be provided for it, but the only one suitable was the heart of a Cu Gealach.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Cú na Gealaí Duibhe,” China said, “to give it its full Irish title. They do still teach you Gaelige in school, yes?”
“Yes, it means … it’s Black Hound of something, right?”
“Almost. Hound of the Black Moon. Terrible creatures. They’re virtually extinct now, but they were ruthless, savage things.”
“Ruthless, savage things,” Skulduggery said, “that were only ruthlessly savage for one night every few years, at a lunar eclipse. So no matter how much power Vengeous pumps into that thing, the Grotesquery will not be strong enough to open a portal until the Earth, moon and sun line up, which won’t be for another—”
“Two nights,” China said.
Skulduggery sagged and his head drooped. “Well, that’s just dandy,” he muttered.
Later, on the motorway back to Haggard, Valkyrie turned to Skulduggery. “So,” she said, “a legendary battle, eh?”
Skulduggery turned his head to her. “I’m sorry?”
“The battle between you and Vengeous, the legendary one. What happened?”
“We had a fight.”
“But why is it one of the most talked-about battles of the war?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe people had nothing else to talk about.”
“China said you were badly injured. Is that why you don’t like him? Because you were injured?”
“I don’t like him because he’s evil.”
“So it’s got nothing to do with him injuring you?”
“It’s because he’s evil,” Skulduggery said grumpily.
They stayed on the motorway for another five minutes, then took the slip road. The roads became narrower and curved between darkened fields and lone houses, and then orange streetlights appeared on either side and they were driving into Haggard. They reached the pier, and the Bentley stopped.
“Tomorrow’s