Her boot slammed against the door. She kicked again… and again… and again… Her legs were strong. She couldn’t fail. Desperation lent her strength. The door was weak and it burst open.
She hurried in, moving right for where she had seen the address book. It wasn’t there. It wasn’t on the small table. Where was it?
She looked around. China had moved it. Where? Why? Had she known Stephanie would be looking for it? No, there was no way she could have predicted that. Then she had moved it for some other reason, some other ordinary, average reason. She had put it away; she had put it back. Yes, she had put it back in its usual place.
Where would China keep an address book?
Stephanie went to the desk, opening the drawers and rifling through them. Papers, letters, no address book. She turned, eyes scouring the room, aware that China could walk through that broken door at any time. She went to the shelves: no address book. Where?
She moved into the bedroom. There, on the bedside table, the address book. She snatched it up, finding the B’s, her finger moving down the page. Bespoke tailors. She memorised the address, dropped the book on the bed and turned to go.
“Hello, dear,” China said. She walked in and Stephanie stepped back, wary.
“I saw your handiwork outside,” China said. “What did my poor door ever do to you? Did you break anything else while you were here? A vase? A teacup perhaps?”
“Just the door.”
“Ah, well, I suppose I should be thankful for small mercies. Did you find what you were looking for, child?”
Stephanie tightened her fist. “Don’t call me that.”
China laughed. “That look in your eye is almost scary.”
“Have you done anything to help Skulduggery, or are you still too busy helping yourself?” asked Stephanie.
“He inspires loyalty, doesn’t he?” China said, an eyebrow raised. “You can’t be around our Mr Pleasant without liking him, without wanting to fight alongside him. You should have been there during the war, you know. You should have seen him then.”
“I just can’t understand how you’d betray him like this.”
For the first time since she’d known her, China’s eyes turned cold. “I haven’t betrayed him, child. I may have failed him, but I haven’t betrayed him. To betray is to act against. I just haven’t acted at all.”
“Whatever,” Stephanie said.
“Not interested in semantics?” China asked, her smile returning. “But of course not. You’re a straightforward kind of girl, aren’t you?”
“I’m leaving now,” Stephanie said as she headed for the door.
“Straightforward,” China continued, “but not too bright. Stephanie, would you be a dear and stop?” Stephanie stopped.
“I admire your courage, child, I really do. But rallying a cavalry to go after Skulduggery is just too risky. Too much could go wrong. Now sit in the corner there, like a good little girl.” Stephanie nodded and walked for the door.
“Stop,” China ordered. “I said the corner.”
Stephanie reached the door and looked back. China was frowning. “I don’t understand. How are you able to do this? Stephanie, answer me!”
“I’m not Stephanie,” Stephanie answered. “And if you want to keep me here, then you’d better be ready to kill me.”
China’s frown disappeared. “I don’t want to kill you, my dear,” she said and the hint of a smile appeared. “So you’ve finally chosen a name.”
“Yeah. And I’m leaving. Right now.”
“Maybe you stand some chance after all. Before you go, will you do me the honour of introducing yourself?”
“Of course,” Stephanie said right before she walked out of the apartment. “My name is Valkyrie Cain.”
Ghastly opened the door, saw Stephanie and nodded.
“I’m sorry if I upset you yesterday,” he said. “I realise I have no right to tell you what you can and cannot do, but please believe that I was acting in your best—”
“They have Skulduggery,” Stephanie said, interrupting him.
“What?”
“Serpine has him. Last night, he came in with his paper men and they attacked him and took him away with them. We need to tell the Elders.”
Ghastly tried a smile to see if she’d return it, to see if she’d admit her joke. Stephanie didn’t smile back.
“You don’t know if I should be involved in any of this,” she said. “That’s fine. That’s your opinion and that’s fine. But let’s forget about opinion. Let’s look at facts. Serpine has Skulduggery. He’s broken the Truce. He believes the Sceptre is real and he has proved that he’s willing to kill to get to it. He has to be stopped and I need your help to stop him.”
“You saw this? You actually saw Serpine do this?”
“I was there.”
He looked at her and nodded. “Then I suppose it’s a very good thing you decided to stick around.”
Ghastly brought his car around and Stephanie told him exactly what had happened as they sped through the streets to the Sanctuary. The windows were heavily tinted, but even so he had a scarf wrapped around his face and a hat pulled low over his eyes.
The Waxworks Museum hadn’t opened yet so they let themselves in the back and hurried through the darkness. Ghastly searched the darkened wall for the switch, found it and the wall parted. Stephanie was the first to reach the bottom of the stairs, and she strode into the Sanctuary. The Administrator hurried up to her, frowning.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “you do not have an appointment.”
“We’re here to see Meritorious.”
“The Elders cannot be disturbed,” the Administrator insisted. “I must ask you to leave at once.”
“It’s an emergency,” Ghastly said as he joined her, but the Administrator still shook his head.
“All requests to visit the Elders must go through the proper channels,” he said, but Stephanie had heard enough. She barged past him, heading for the corridor. Suddenly there was a flash of grey and a Cleaver was before her, holding the blade of his scythe to her throat.
Stephanie froze. There was movement all around her, sound all around her, and the only still things in her world were herself and the Cleaver. She could hear Ghastly threatening the Administrator, threatening the Cleavers, and the Administrator protesting and insisting they leave. Ghastly’s voice was rising, becoming angry, telling the Cleaver to lower the weapon, but the Cleaver was still and silent, a statue. Stephanie could see her burnished reflection in his visor. She didn’t dare move.
Before the situation could spiral out of control, before Stephanie’s head became separated from her body, the Administrator gave in and agreed to ask Meritorious if he would receive visitors.
At a nod, the Cleaver stepped back and swung the scythe down by his side and behind him, making the mere sheathing of the weapon into an art form.
Stephanie backed off, moving slowly, but the Cleaver had gone back to his post like nothing had happened.
They stayed in the foyer while the Administrator hurried off, and presently they heard footsteps approaching. Eachan Meritorious entered and looked mildly surprised when he laid eyes on Ghastly.
“Mr Bespoke,” he said, coming forward.