Mortal Coil. Derek Landy
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and China turned, allowing the light to cast itself over her perfect features.
“An act of kindness,” she said, “purely for your benefit, Valkyrie. I know how much you dislike me being mean to people.”
Valkyrie stepped out of the shadows, smiling. “Kindness suits you.”
“Really? I think I’m quite allergic to it. Now what can I do for you both? Perhaps you are here seeking my opinion on matters discussed at this top-secret meeting to which I was not invited?”
“You may not have been there,” Skulduggery said, “but I’m sure a woman of your resources has heard detailed accounts of everything that was spoken about.”
“Nonsense. That meeting was highly confidential. Congratulations, by the way.”
Skulduggery grunted. “There’s nothing to congratulate.”
“Don’t be so modest – I haven’t laughed so hard in years. Erskine, possibly, has the makings of a good Elder, and Corrival Deuce is an inspired choice for Grand Mage. But you? Skulduggery my dear … that is inspired lunacy.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see how it all pans out, but I’m afraid we’re here on matters much more cosmetic.” Skulduggery took a step out of the gloom, and China saw his drooping face.
“Oh dear,” she said.
“It gets better when I do this.” He began slapping himself and shaking his head violently, causing the face to tighten slightly.
“Well,” China said, “at least you’re keeping your dignity. Come. Keep the façade active.”
She touched the car and the headlights went out. They followed her out of the basement and up the stairs.
“What have you heard about Tesseract?” Skulduggery asked as they climbed. His bottom lip hung over his chin like a dead slug.
“The Russian killer? Why on earth would you want …” China looked down at them, her pale blue eyes narrowed. “He’s in the country?”
“You didn’t know?” Skulduggery asked, actually sounding shocked.
There was a brief flicker of annoyance on China’s perfect face, and then it evaporated. She turned, and resumed climbing to the third floor.
“Here is what I know about Tesseract. Born and raised in Russia, somewhere between three and four hundred years ago. He is an Adept, nobody knows who trained him, and nobody knows how many people he’s killed. He wears a mask – again, nobody knows why. He lives in a truck of some description. He’s self-sufficient, doesn’t need to resupply for weeks at a time. His method of communication is a mystery to me – how those who require his services get in touch with him, I confess, I do not know.
“What all this means is that he could be living across the street from me and I’d never know it. It means that I have not heard one single rumour about him in twenty years, and the fact that he is here and I didn’t know about it causes me no small amount of alarm and drives me to unimaginable fury. I am, however, hiding it well. You are sure he is here?”
“We saw him,” said Skulduggery.
They reached the third floor and stopped talking as a man and a woman passed. The man stared at China, entranced by her beauty. The woman stared at Skulduggery, repulsed by the face that was slowly sliding down his head. China led them into her apartment – to Valkyrie it was as beautiful and elegant as China herself – and shut the door after them.
“He went after Davina Marr,” Skulduggery said.
China’s eyebrow raised. “Did he kill her?”
“He came close.”
“Do you have her?”
“She’s somewhere safe and secure – you don’t have to worry about her. This can’t be repeated to anyone, of course.”
“Who do you think I am, some cheap and tawdry gossip-monger? Sit. Loosen your tie.”
Skulduggery did as he was told, and China took a small black case from her desk. From the case she withdrew a calligraphy pen that reminded Valkyrie of a scalpel. She dipped it in black ink before taking a monocle from a side pocket. She crossed to Skulduggery, undid a few shirt buttons to expose the symbols carved into his collarbones, and examined them using the monocle. “Have you questioned Marr yet?” she asked.
“She remains stubbornly unconscious,” he answered. “However, the very fact that someone sent an assassin after her has told us an awful lot. Up until now I was almost prepared to believe that Marr acted alone. She could have enslaved Myron Stray of her own volition, put the Desolation Engine into his hands, and arranged for Valkyrie and myself to get caught in the blast. I was close to putting her actions down to pure anger and a petty need for revenge that escalated into something terrible. But that doesn’t hold up. Not any more.”
“Because of Tesseract?” Valkyrie asked.
“Tesseract was put on her trail, which leads me to believe that she had co-conspirators who have since abandoned her, and now want her silenced.”
China put down the monocle, pressed the pen against the symbol on Skulduggery’s left collarbone, and applied pressure. “If there is a conspiracy, who would gain from the destruction of the Sanctuary? There has been a five-month period where there has been no Sanctuary, no Grand Mage, and yet from what I can see, there has been no dramatic upsurge in antisocial activity. Whoever organised this seems to have missed their opportunity.”
“Unless the scale is far grander than we imagine,” Skulduggery said.
“Now you just sound paranoid.” Whatever China was doing to the symbol was having an effect on Skulduggery’s face. It tightened until it almost split, then loosened again. “If you’re right about this grand conspiracy, by the way, you might want to consider the possibility that Marr never really stopped working for the American Sanctuary.”
“We’ve thought about that,” Skulduggery said. “Valkyrie?”
“OK,” Valkyrie said, “so two years ago, Marr is working for the American Sanctuary. Thurid Guild offers her a job in Ireland, thinking she won’t be able to resist the chance to work at a Cradle of Magic because, let’s face it, every day here is an adventure. She tells her bosses, they tell her to accept the job, but to work undercover for them. Any Sanctuary around the world would want to gain a foothold in a country with this much raw magic at its core, and America is no different.
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