“You realise,” Valkyrie said, “that we can hear you both perfectly well.”
Ghastly shut up immediately. Ravel nodded slowly. “Right. Righto. You sure you heard everything, now? Did you hear the bit where I complimented you and called you amazing?”
“I must have missed that part.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. That’s a real...” He looked off to his right, eyebrows raising. “What’s that? I’m needed elsewhere? Important business?”
Ghastly sighed. “There’s no one there.”
“Valkyrie, Skulduggery, we’ll talk with Fletcher and get back to you,” Ravel said, and glared at Ghastly as their images faded to nothing.
Four hours later, the same huge plane that had flown them to Switzerland appeared as a speck over the mountains. Valkyrie held fire in her hand to warm herself while she waited. She knew Fletcher wasn’t onboard. He rarely suffered through the indignities of travel any more. Because Teleporters can only teleport to places they’ve already been, or places they can actually see, he had devised a tactic to be used on planes and trains and boats.
First, he’d have teleported to Ireland, where he’d have introduced himself to the pilots and stepped on to the plane. Then he’d have teleported home to Australia and spent the next few hours doing whatever it was he did when he was over there. When the plane had reached its destination – roughly where it was now – the pilot would call him and he’d teleport back to the plane, look out of the window, see her, and teleport down. It was a simple and effective way of visiting places all around the world without having to actually waste time getting there. And it was typical Fletcher.
The plane got closer and she took off her mask, then sent a fistful of shadows curling along the snow to attract their attention. A moment later, Fletcher Renn appeared in front of her.
“Oh my God!” was the first thing he said. “It’s freezing!”
Valkyrie grinned. “That’d be all the snow. Come on, it’s warmer inside.”
He frowned at the hole in the rocks she’d squirmed through to get out there. “Haven’t these people heard of doors?”
“It keeps the Abominable Snowmen out.”
He stared. “Seriously?”
“Two of them, yeah. One of them tried to eat my head.”
He held out his hand and she took it, and he crouched down, peered through the gap, and suddenly they were on the other side of the rocks, in the warmth. These days, teleportation didn’t even result in a twinge of nausea, much less puking her guts up like it did in the early days. Fletcher straightened, and smiled at her.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She smiled. “You look well.” He did. She’d forgotten how cute he was. “Your hair’s still stupid.”
Fletcher nodded. “Thanks for that. Should’ve known better than to expect you to stay nice for more than a few seconds.”
She laughed. “Sorry. Bad habit. You really do look good, though. Australia agrees with you.”
“Australia has good taste. And it’s taken a while but you’ve obviously decided that you can’t live without me, either. I have to say, coming up with this whole Argeddion thing just to have an excuse to see me again? I admit it, I’m flattered.”
“You’re such a goon. Why do you have to be such a goon? You’re cute and you’re hot and if you’d just stay quiet, you’d be perfect.”
He shrugged. “My mouth gets me into trouble. As you well know.”
“And now you’re a dope. You’re both a goon and a dope. Well done.”
“I try my very best.” He suddenly frowned. “Should we hug, or something? I think we should hug, after not seeing each other for so long.”
“Why not?” she said, and hugged him. For a moment Valkyrie remembered how good it felt, and then she stepped away.
His eyes flickered over her shoulder, and he stood a little straighter as Skulduggery walked up.
“Skulduggery.”
“Fletcher.”
Fletcher stuck out his hand. Skulduggery observed it for a moment.
“I’m sorry, what are we doing now?”
“Shaking hands,” Fletcher said. “Like adults. I just want you to know that this past year has changed me. I’ve grown, as a person. I’m not the same Fletcher you used to know.”
“You look a lot like him.”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And you have the same ridiculous hair.”
“Can we just shake hands?”
“Of course we can,” Skulduggery said, and they shook. “Now what?”
“I, uh... I don’t really know. What do adults usually do after they shake hands?”
“Generally, the first thing they do is let go.”
“Oh, right,” Fletcher said, and Skulduggery took his hand back. “So, Skulduggery, how’ve you been? You’re looking well. That’s a really nice tie.”
“It’s blue.”
“And such a nice shade.”
Skulduggery looked at Valkyrie. “You promised me he wouldn’t be annoying.”
She glared. “And you promised you wouldn’t be mean.”
Skulduggery sighed, turned back. “Fletcher, how is your training progressing? As the last Teleporter, it’s important that you take your responsibilities seriously.”
“I am,” Fletcher said. “I do.”
“When I was your age, I met the last Kineticist. Do you know what that is? He had the ability to absorb kinetic energy and store it as pure strength. Essentially, the more he was hit, the stronger he became. When he died, all the secrets of his discipline died with him. A few years ago a young sorcerer decided to train to be the first Kineticist in four hundred years. Do you know what happened?”
“No,” Fletcher said. “What?”
“He was really rubbish at it.”
Fletcher frowned. “Oh.”
“Let that be a lesson to you,” Skulduggery said, and walked back the way he’d come.
Fletcher edged closer to Valkyrie. “I thought that story would have a more dramatic ending,” he whispered.
“Yeah,” she whispered back.
She took him on a tour. Kalvin was there to meet them at the Arboretum, and he explained what they needed to keep in mind when transporting the birds and animals. It was decided to just take everything, trees and all, to empty plots of land around the world according to the needs of whatever was being transported. Valkyrie stood by and let them talk, becoming quietly impressed with Fletcher as he steadily got all the information he needed.
When they were done, Valkyrie took him to see Lenka, whose reaction was, as she had expected, one to treasure. Fletcher walked in, and Lenka laughed so hard she fell off the table on which she’d been sitting.
“His hair!” Lenka gasped from the floor. “Oh my God, his hair!”
Fletcher sighed.
Lament came in, shook Fletcher’s hand and asked him to ignore the hysterical girl rolling across the ground. He took them to the Cube, and Fletcher peered in at Argeddion.
“You’re