Valkyrie and Ghastly looked to where its gaze rested. Amid all of the tearful reunions and the hugging there was a man in rags standing alone in the crowd. His head was down but his eyes were moving.
Ghastly took a moment. “I don’t know. Just another innocent citizen arrested by the Redhoods.”
“He seems anxious,” said the reflection.
“Breaking out of prison will do that to you.”
“He keeps looking around, like he’s waiting for something to happen.”
Valkyrie frowned. “Mevolent knew you had the Teleporter,” she said, rubbing her arm. “He could easily have put a spy in the dungeon in case you attempted a rescue, then sent Vile down there, to make sure we left in a hurry without checking who everyone was...”
Ghastly looked at her, then back at the man in rags.
“Would you do me a favour?” he asked, not taking his eyes off him. “Would you please inform Miss Sorrows that it is time to leave? And then could you tell Dexter Vex to disperse the crowd? Thank you.”
Without waiting for a response, Ghastly started moving towards the man in the rags. The man saw him coming and turned, started walking away. Ghastly sped up. Valkyrie heard a shout from somewhere to her left, turned her head in time to see Lord Vile step out of swirling darkness.
The people closest to him cried out and stumbled back. He brought his arm around, darkness gathering like a wing beneath it, and flung the shadows away from him. They whipped through the crowd, severing limbs and puncturing torsos, felling half a dozen fighters in one go before retracting.
Ghastly had changed course, forgetting about the man in rags and instead zeroing in on Vile. He used the air to leap over the heads of the panicking crowd, landing in a crouch before his enemy. He clicked his fingers, summoning flames into both hands.
He lunged and Vile sent his shadow-knives to slice his body from shoulder to hip. Valkyrie gasped as Ghastly parted from himself and fell in two pieces.
She became aware of something overhead, a great looming shadow, and looked up as the Barge opened its doors. Redhoods dropped like rain. Vex unleashed a stream of energy but a scythe flashed and took his arm. The reflection tried to dodge a Redhood but he was too fast. Valkyrie didn’t even see it go down. She pushed at the air and clicked her fingers and got a boot in the belly for her efforts. She folded, all the breath rushing out of her and every muscle constricting.
Through tear-blurred eyes she saw the Resistance fighters struggling to hold the Redhoods at bay while China made her escape. They didn’t last long. Scythe blades turned red and screams filled the air. Valkyrie still couldn’t breathe. Her head thundered and she felt like she was going to pass out. Then the world flickered.
She squirmed in the dirt, looking back through the gleaming boots of the Redhoods towards the reflection. It caught her eye, understood what was about to happen, and started crawling towards her. Valkyrie reached out, the world flickered again, and the reflection stretched for her hand, and right before their fingers touched, the reflection and the world went away and Valkyrie gasped for breath as she lay on a road in the glare of headlights.
There was a screech of brakes and Valkyrie got to her hands and knees, forced herself up, staggered away. The driver got out of his car, pointed and shouted, telling everyone what he’d seen, a girl appearing out of nowhere. Valkyrie kept going, arms wrapped round her midsection. They wouldn’t believe him. By the next morning, he’d start to doubt what he’d seen himself. She didn’t have to worry about it.
Now all she had to worry about was her reflection, trapped in a world it didn’t understand. Scared. Defenceless.
Alone.
Valkyrie sat in the Medical Bay in the brown clothes that swamped her while Reverie patched her up. The Elders stood beside Skulduggery, staring at her as the implications of this sank in. Quintin Strom and Bernard Sult stood to one side with Grim, Strom’s bodyguard, close by.
“And it’s functional?” Ravel asked.
“I didn’t see it in action,” Valkyrie said, “but it’s in one piece and it has a black crystal. Yes, I’d say it’s functional.”
“If we went in there and got it,” said Ghastly, “we would have a weapon capable of stopping Argeddion.”
Valkyrie nodded, and let her gaze linger on Ghastly for a little while. It was nice to see him in one piece.
“But how?” asked Strom. “Silas Nadir is no longer in custody, which means we would need a team of our top operatives to stay within arm’s reach of Valkyrie at all times. And who knows how long it will be before she’s pulled through again? It’s impractical.”
“First things first,” said Ravel. “Valkyrie, where does Mevolent keep the Sceptre?”
“In his throne room.”
Mist shook her head, ever so slightly. “If we do manage to steal it, what then? The Sceptre’s previous owner must be dead before the new owner can use it. Mevolent would have to be killed.”
“Not necessarily,” said Dr Nye, looming over them all. “Forgive me. I couldn’t help overhearing. I do not profess to be an expert on Sceptre lore, but I have a casual understanding of transdimensional physics. More of a hobby than anything else.”
“Get on with it,” Skulduggery said.
Nye cleared its long, skinny throat. “The transportation of any object of power, the Sceptre included, between dimensions, would invariably result in what can only be described as a short circuit. Upon its arrival, the Sceptre’s power would be depleted. All it would need in order to reactivate would be a simple recharge of magic. The result would be a fully operational Sceptre that was ready to imprint upon a new owner.”
“You’re sure about this?” asked Ravel. “You’re sure it would just wipe clean?”
“I’m ninety per cent sure.”
“So there’s a ten per cent chance it won’t work.”
“Yes, but my ten per cent is someone else’s fifty. I assure you, Kenspeckle Grouse would agree with me if he weren’t so amusingly dead.”
Ravel looked at Skulduggery. “It’s your call.”
Skulduggery’s head tilted. “Mine?”
“If anyone is going to be close enough to Valkyrie the next time she shunts, it’ll be you. You might be able to take another few people with you, maybe a few Cleavers, but it could just be the two of you.”
“And if it is, then this is the mission you’re assigning us. To steal the Sceptre of the Ancients from Mevolent, one of the most powerful and evil sorcerers who ever lived.”
Ravel nodded. “I’m afraid so. You’re going to have to improvise. If China’s Resistance survived the attack, enlist their help. Either mount an offensive or sneak into the Palace. Take the cloaking sphere from the Repository and keep it on you. Take whatever else you think you might need. Your primary objective, the both of you, is to retrieve the Sceptre.”
“We have another option, too,” Valkyrie said. “We don’t have to kill Argeddion to stop him. Lament didn’t, thirty years ago. He just used three words that the killer of Walden D’Essai’s mother said to him. What was it he called it? A traumatic phrase from his childhood.