he car was a 1954 Bentley R-Type Continental. It sliced through the quiet Dublin night like a black shark, gleaming and powerful. It was a beautiful car. Valkyrie had grown to love it almost as much as Skulduggery did.

      They turned on to O’Connell Street, passed the Spire and the Pearse Monument. Scapegrace sat in the back and complained that the shackles were too tight. It was four in the morning. Valkyrie fought a yawn.

      This time last year she would have been in bed, snuggled up and dreaming about … well, whatever it was she dreamed about back then. Things were a lot different now, and she was lucky if she could get a few hours sleep a night. If she wasn’t going up against crazies like Scapegrace, she was practising magic, and if she wasn’t practising magic, she was training to fight with either Skulduggery or Tanith Low. These days, her life was a lot more exciting, a lot more fun, and a lot more dangerous. In fact, one of the major downsides to her new life was that she rarely had sweet dreams any more. When she slept, it was the nightmares that came to her. They waited patiently, and they were always eager to play.

      But that was the cost, she reasoned. The cost of living a life of adventure and excitement.

      The owners of the Waxworks Museum had closed it down after the events of the previous year, and set up a new and improved version of the Sanctuary of the Elders in another part of the city. The new building stood quietly beside its neighbours, humble and drab, its front doors closed and locked and sealed. But Valkyrie and Skulduggery had never used the front doors anyway.

      They parked in the loading area at the back and took Scapegrace in through the rear door. The corridors were dimly lit, and they walked past the lonely historical figures and cinematic icons that had been left to collect dust. Valkyrie traced her hand along the wall to find the switch, and the door slid open beside her. She led the way through and down the steps, her mind flashing back to the summer of the previous year, when she had stepped into the Sanctuary’s foyer to find it littered with dead bodies …

      Today, however, there were no corpses in sight. Two Cleavers stood guard against the far wall, dressed all in grey, their scythes strapped to their backs, visored helmets pointing straight ahead. The Cleavers acted as the Sanctuary’s law enforcers and its army. Silent and lethal, they still gave Valkyrie the creeps.

      The double doors to their left opened and the new Grand Mage, Thurid Guild, came out to them. He looked to be in his sixties, with thinning grey hair, a lined face and cold eyes.

      “You found him then,” Guild said. “Before or after he managed to kill someone?”

      “Before,” Skulduggery said. Guild grunted and gestured to the Cleavers. They stepped forward and Scapegrace shrank away from them. They took him firmly by the arms and he didn’t resist. He even stopped whining about his broken nose as they led him away.

      Valkyrie looked back at Guild. He wasn’t a friendly man by any means, but he seemed especially uncomfortable around her, like he wasn’t yet sure if he should take her seriously. He tended to speak directly to Skulduggery, and only glanced at Valkyrie when she asked a question.

      “A situation has arisen which requires your attention,” said Guild. “This way.”

      Skulduggery fell into step beside the Grand Mage, but Valkyrie stayed two paces behind. Guild had taken over as head of the Council of Elders, but he still had to select the two sorcerers who would rule with him. It was a long and arduous process apparently, but Valkyrie suspected she knew who would be Guild’s first choice. He was a man who respected power, after all, and there were few more powerful in this world than Mr Bliss.

      They walked into a room with a long table, and Mr Bliss rose – bald, tall and broad shouldered, his eyes a piercing blue.

      “I have received some disturbing news,” Bliss said, getting straight to the point as usual. “It seems that Baron Vengeous has been freed from the confinement facility in Russia.”

      Skulduggery was silent for a moment. When he spoke, he spoke slowly. “How did he get out?”

      “Violently, from the reports we’ve been getting,” Guild said. “Nine Cleavers were killed, along with approximately one third of the prisoners. His cell, like all the cells, was securely bound. Nobody should have been able to use magic in any of them.”

      Valkyrie raised an eyebrow and Skulduggery answered her unspoken question. “Baron Vengeous was one of Mevolent’s infamous Three Generals. Dangerously fanatical, extremely intelligent, and very, very powerful. I saw him look at a colleague of mine and my colleague … ruptured.”

      “Ruptured?”

      Skulduggery nodded. “All over the place.” He turned to Guild. “Do we know who freed him?”

      The Grand Mage shook his head. “According to the Russians, one wall of his cell was cracked. Still solid, but cracked, like something had hit it. That’s the only clue we have at the moment.”

      “The prison’s location is a closely guarded secret,” Bliss said. “It is well hidden and well protected. Whoever is behind this had inside knowledge.”

      Guild made a face. “That’s the Russians’ problem, not ours. The only thing we have to concern ourselves with is stopping Vengeous.”

      “You think he’ll come here then?” Valkyrie asked.

      Guild looked at her and she saw his fist clench. He probably didn’t even realise he was doing it, but it signalled to Valkyrie loud and clear that he still didn’t like her.

      “Vengeous will