The Administrator bowed and spun on his heel, and led them down an adjoining corridor. They passed more people in grey uniforms as they walked. Stephanie was getting used to dealing with people with no eyes and no expressions, but there was something about them that unnerved her. Skulduggery, living skeleton though he was, was still fundamentally human, and yet these people, who merely wore helmets to hide their faces, seemed to her much more sinister.
“Who are they?” Stephanie whispered as they walked.
“Cleavers,” Skulduggery replied in a low voice. “Security guards, enforcers and army, rolled into one. Dangerous individuals. Be glad they’re on our side.”
She did her best not to look at them as they passed. “Where are we going?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“I’m taking you to see the Book of Names,” Skulduggery said. “Some say it was created by the Ancients, but the truth is no one knows who really made it or how it was made. It lists the names of every person living on this earth: the given name, the taken name – when and if a name is taken – and the true name. Every time a baby is born, a new name appears in its pages. Every time someone dies, their name fades away.”
Stephanie looked at him. “So my true name is in that Book?”
“As is mine. As is everyone’s.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? If someone got their hands on that, they’d be able to rule the world.” She let a few moments pass. “And I felt ridiculous even saying that.”
The Administrator glanced over his shoulder as he walked. “Not even the Elders open the Book. It is too powerful – it can corrupt too easily. But they can’t find a way to destroy it – it can’t be torn; it can’t be burnt; it can’t be damaged by any means we have at our disposal. If the legends are true and the Book was created by the Ancients, then it stands to reason that only the Ancients could destroy it. The Elders, for their part, see it as their responsibility to protect it, to keep it away from prying eyes.”
They reached a set of double doors. The Administrator waved his hand and the heavy doors swung slowly open. They walked into the Repository – a large room with marble pillars – which, as Skulduggery explained, housed some of the rarest and most unusual magical artefacts in existence. They passed row upon row of shelves and tables, on which lay items so bizarre they defied description. The Administrator pointed out one of the strangest of these – a two-dimensional box that held wonders to sate the most jaded of appetites, but which only existed if approached from a right angle. In contrast to this clutter, however, was the centre of the room, which was empty save for a pedestal, and on that pedestal, a book.
“That’s the Book of Names?” Stephanie asked.
“Yes, it is,” the Administrator answered.
“I thought it’d be bigger.”
“It’s as big as it needs to be, no more, no less.”
“And it’s OK to leave it out in the open like that?”
“It’s not as vulnerable as you might think. When it was placed here, the security arrangements did cause the Elders some concern. How would it be protected? Guards can be overcome. A locked door can be unlocked. A wall can be broken. A shield can be pierced.”
“So, what? They decided not to bother?”
“Actually, they came up with a most ingenious defence. Willpower.”
“Sorry?”
“The Book is protected by the Will of the Elders.” Stephanie wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
“See for yourself,” the Administrator said. “Take the Book.”
“Me?”
“You. You won’t be harmed.”
Stephanie glanced at Skulduggery, but he gave no indication as to what she should do. Finally, she just turned and started walking towards it.
Her eyes darted from one side of the room to the next. She thought about trapdoors and immediately started examining the floor she walked on. What form did willpower take? She hoped it wasn’t bullets or anything painful like that. She was mildly annoyed that she was even doing this, walking right into whatever trap the Elders had set up, and doing so willingly. For what? To prove a point that wasn’t even hers? She didn’t even want to take the Book. This whole thing was ridiculous.
She glanced back, saw the Administrator standing there with a placid expression on his face, obviously anticipating whatever was about to happen, whatever was going to pop out in front of her to stop her from taking their precious Book. She stopped walking. If he wanted the Book, he could get it himself. She turned and walked right back again. The Administrator peered at her.
“You didn’t take it,” he said.
Stephanie forced herself to remain polite. “No, I didn’t. But I’ll take your word for it that it’s well protected.”
“When you started walking, you wanted to take the Book, yes?”
“I suppose so.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“Because I changed my mind.”
“Because you didn’t want to take it any more.”
“Well, yes. So?”
“That is the Will of the Elders. No matter how badly you want that Book in your hands, the closer you get, the less you want it. It doesn’t matter if you want it for yourself, if you want it because you were ordered to take it or because your very life depends on it. With every step you take, your indifference towards the Book increases, no matter who you may be or what power you may have. Even Meritorious himself couldn’t get close to it.”
Stephanie looked at him, taking it all in. Finally, she had to say it, there was no way she couldn’t: “That’s very impressive.”
“It is, isn’t it?” The Administrator turned his head a little, as if hearing something. “The Council is ready for you now. Please come this way.”
They walked into an oval-shaped room and stood facing a large door. There was only one light source, from somewhere overhead, and the edges of the room remained in relative darkness.
“The Elders will be but a moment,” the Administrator said and walked quietly away.
“They always do this,” Skulduggery said. “Keep people waiting.”
“My headmaster does the same thing whenever someone’s called to his office. He thinks it makes him look important.”
“Does it work?”
“It makes him look late.”
The door ahead opened and an old man entered. He had short white hair and a tightly cropped beard, and he was tall, taller than Skulduggery. He wore a suit the colour of granite, and as he walked, Stephanie became aware of the shadows to his right. They seemed to shift and stretch alongside him, and she watched as more of them reached over from the corners of the room to join the mass. The shadows suddenly rose up from the floor and melted into an elderly woman in black. She fell into step beside the tall man and their footsteps slowed as they neared. A third person faded up from nothing, materialised right out of thin air on the other side of the tall man. He looked a little younger than the others and he wore a sky-blue suit, the jacket of which was struggling to contain his hefty paunch.
Stephanie looked at the Elder Mages and the Elder Mages looked at Stephanie.
“Skulduggery,” the tall man said eventually, his voice deep and resonant, “trouble follows in your wake, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say follows,”