Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3. Derek Landy
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by now, Nefarian.”
Serpine smiled as he sat in the wooden chair opposite. The room was small, with stone walls and a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. “Being a respectable citizen wasn’t for me, but then you knew that, didn’t you? You warned them about me, but they didn’t listen. That must have been annoying, for the Elders not to even respect you enough to take you seriously.”
“I think it’s because I’m always smiling.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Oh, Skulduggery, what am I going to do with you?”
“Untie me?”
Serpine laughed. “Maybe later. We always seem to be at each other’s throats, don’t we?”
“Let me ask you a question. Let’s pretend, just for a moment, that we live in your world, where things are crazy and the Faceless Ones are real. When you call them, what do you hope to gain? A pat on the head?”
“How my lords and masters will reward me for my servitude is up to them. I would never presume to guess.”
“The door is closed, Nefarian. Just us two guys in here, chatting. What’s in it for you?”
Serpine leaned in. “I get to be by their side when they raze this world, when they expunge the stain of humanity. And when it’s over, I get to bask in their terrible glory.”
Skulduggery nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t a clue what you just said.” Serpine laughed.
“You’re going to fall,” Skulduggery continued.
“Really?”
“You’re going to fall hard and I’m going to be there. I’ll be the one pushing you.”
“Big talk from the man tied to the chair. Or are you even a man? A thing, perhaps? An oddity?”
“They’ll come for you.”
“Who will? The Elders? Meritorious and his lot? Please. They’re too busy worrying about being rude to me.”
“Not after this. They’re probably at your doorstep as we speak.”
Serpine stood, walked behind his captive. “Somehow I don’t think they would be able to marshal their forces so quickly. Or so efficiently. No, my old enemy, I think for the moment anyway, we’re all alone. And you have something I want.”
“A winning sense of style?”
“The key,” Serpine said as he walked back into the detective’s line of sight.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Serpine was moving his left hand slightly, like he was conducting music. “Obviously you’re not going to just offer up the information, so I think a spot of torture is required.”
“Ah,” the detective said. “Old times.”
“I remember those dark autumn days that I’d while away, cutting you, making you cry out.”
“Fun for the whole family.”
“You may think my options would be limited as far as torture is concerned, especially now that you don’t have skin to cut. But I’ve picked up a few new tricks that I think you’ll enjoy.”
Serpine moved his fingers in a wave motion, directing it at the chair he had just been sitting on. The wood creaked and groaned as it expanded and contracted, like it was breathing. The detective couldn’t avoid looking at it.
“If I can do that to the chair,” Serpine said, enjoying the moment, “think what I can do to bone.” There was a loud crack as the chair splintered.
Serpine hunkered down in front of him. “Well, Skulduggery? Where is that tired old defiance – the taunting, the goading? Where are the endless heroic clichés? Aren’t you going to look me in the eye and tell me to do my worst?”
“Actually, I was going to ask that you go easy on me. I’m feeling kind of tender today.”
Serpine stood, opened his left hand in front of the detective. “This is your one chance. Tell me where the key is.”
“OK.”
Serpine raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“No, only joking. Do your worst.”
Serpine laughed and his fingers started moving and the detective started screaming.
WHAT’S IN A NAME?
She dried herself with a spotless white towel, let the water gurgle into the drain and allowed herself to sag against the wall.
Her body may have been tired but her mind was alert and racing, surging with anger. She was still furious at herself for being unable to disobey China’s instruction. How could China have done that to her, to Skulduggery? After he had trusted her?
No, she reminded herself. He hadn’t trusted her. That had been Stephanie’s mistake, not his. And because she went to China before the Elders, or even Ghastly, now it could be too late to do anything. And it was all her fault.
What had Tanith Low called Stephanie? A warrior? That was laughable. No matter what Tanith had thought she had seen in her, she was wrong. There was nothing warrior-like about her. She ran straight into trouble without thinking, without one moment of hesitation. Not because she was brave or heroic, but because she was stupid. Because she didn’t want to be left out, because she didn’t want to wait. She didn’t have a plan, she didn’t have a tactic, all she had was a penchant for raising Cain.
It came to her then. Her eyes widened and she stood up straight, a new strength coursing through her limbs.
And just like that, China’s command over her was broken.
She needed Ghastly. She didn’t really know where he lived so she needed his address, and there was only one way she could think of to get it. She left the restroom, passing the window, realising that it was morning already. She crossed the hall to China’s apartment and knocked. No answer. She knocked again.
China wasn’t in. Stephanie looked at the door. Nothing special about it. She hadn’t noticed anything unusual about it on the other side either, no chains or bolts or extra locks. There could be a locking spell placed on it, and if there was then she’d be wasting her time, but she didn’t think there was. Skulduggery had said a locking spell needed to be dismantled every time a door is opened, then cast again. She doubted China would have the patience to do that on a daily basis.
Stephanie took a step back. An ordinary door. An ordinary, flimsy door. It was possible; she knew it was possible.