A figure moved in the doorway. Serpine’s laugh was one of spittle and gritted teeth as the White Cleaver appeared.
“So you have an immunity to my power… No matter. That scythe of his will shear through your bones. You’ll be nothing but rubble when he’s through with you. Cleaver, attack!”
But the Cleaver stayed where he was and Serpine’s confidence started to ebb. “What are you doing? Kill him!”
The White Cleaver took another moment, and then walked away.
Serpine screamed his rage.
“You’ve lost, Nefarian,” Skulduggery said. “Even your henchman is abandoning you. Even he recognises your defeat. I’m placing you under arrest for murder, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder and, I don’t know, possibly littering.”
Serpine spat. “You will never beat me. I will always find a way to make you suffer.” And then his green eyes flickered towards Stephanie, still lying on the ground.
“Don’t,” Skulduggery said, but Serpine was already moving his hand across his body. “Serpine, don’t!”
Stephanie cried out as a pain more intense then anything she had ever felt scourged her body. Serpine twisted his fingers and the pain intensified, turning her cry into a scream, turning the scream to silent agony. She curled up, feeling something cold spread from her belly, a welcome numbness that cancelled the pain, that moved into her arms and legs, that wrapped itself around her heart and seeped into her mind. And now there was nothing, now there were just vague images, of Serpine and Skulduggery, a distant voice, Skulduggery calling out to her, but that too was fading. No pain now. No sound. Her eyelids fluttered. Serpine, with that grin. Skulduggery, holding his free hand out, and something moving through the air, everything moving so, so slowly.
The Sceptre, it was the Sceptre, and then it was in Skulduggery’s gloved hand and his fingers were tightening around it. He was raising his arm and pointing, pointing the Sceptre at Serpine, and the little crystal started to glow. It glowed dark, a pretty little darkness, and then the air cracked.
The coldness had overtaken her now, the numbness was everywhere, and the last bits that made her who she was were gradually drifting away. She didn’t care. She didn’t mind at all. Let them go. She didn’t have a care in the world.
Serpine’s grinning face. His eyes. His smile. All those teeth. His skin, creased in savage pleasure. And now that skin was changing, and it was drying, and it was cracking, and the smile was fading, and the emerald green eyes were losing their gleam, clouding over, and Serpine turned to dust that fell to the floor.
And there was a ringing, a ringing in her ears, and her fingertips were tingling, and warmth was rushing back to her and her heart was beating again and her lungs sucked in air and Stephanie gasped.
Skulduggery ran over and kneeled beside her. “Are you all right?” he asked, but all she could do was shiver. Her leg twisted and she hissed in pain, but it was a bearable pain, it was a good pain.
“Come on,” Skulduggery said, taking her arm gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She put her weight on him and he half carried her, half lifted her out of the chamber and into the corridor. They passed the gaol as the door opened and Tanith toppled out. She hit the ground and groaned. Stephanie looked down at her friend, at all that blood.
“Tanith?”
Tanith raised her head. “Oh, good,” she muttered. “You’re alive.”
Skulduggery reached for her, pulled her carefully to her feet and, with an arm around each, he guided them both to the foyer. They climbed the stairs slowly and moved through the Waxworks. The rain had stopped and the ground was wet as they emerged into the night.
China Sorrows was standing beside her car, waiting for them. When they were close enough so Stephanie could see the delicate earrings China was wearing, she spoke. “You’ve all seen better days.”
“Could have used your help,” Skulduggery said as they came to a stop.
China shrugged her slender shoulders. “I knew you could do it without me. I had faith. Serpine?”
“Dust,” Skulduggery said. “Too many plans, too many schemes. Sooner or later they’d cancel each other out. That was always his trouble.”
“How did you manage it?”
“He wanted immortality, so he chose death on his own terms – a living death.”
China smiled. “Aha. And because the Sceptre can only be wielded when its previous owner is dead, or in this case, when its owner is the living dead…”
“I took it and used it on him.” He held up the Sceptre. “Something happened though. There’s no power in it any more.”
China took it from him, turning it over in her hands. “It was fuelled by his hate. Obviously, using it against him made it feed on itself. Congratulations, Skulduggery, you’ve managed to break the ultimate weapon. It’s nothing but an ornament now.”
“An ornament I’d like back,” he said, holding out his hand. She smiled, turning her head slightly to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ll buy it from you,” she said.
“Why would you want it?” he asked. “It’s worthless.”
“Sentimental reasons. Besides, you know what an avid collector I am.”
He sighed. “Fine, take it.”
There it was, that smile again. “Thank you. Oh, and the Book?”
“Destroyed.”
“How very like you to destroy the indestructible. You have quite an appetite for destruction, don’t you?”
“China, these bones are weary…”
“Then I shall leave you.”
“Bliss is still in there,” Stephanie said. “I think he was working against Serpine the whole time. I don’t know if he’s alive though.”
“That brother of mine is quite resilient. I’ve tried to kill him three times already and he just won’t stay down.” China got into her car, looked at them through the open window. “Oh, by the way, all three of you – congratulations on saving the world.”
She gave them a beautiful smile and they watched her drive off. They stood there for a while. The sky was beginning to brighten, the first rays of the morning sun seeping into the black.
“You know,” Tanith said weakly, “I still have a gigantic hole in my back.”
“Sorry,” Skulduggery said and helped them both towards the Bentley.
AN END, A BEGINNING
Stephanie sat in her swivel chair, her foot resting on the bed. Skulduggery had taken her to a friend of his, a cantankerous old man who had mended her broken leg within an hour. It was still stiff and she couldn’t walk on it, but the bruising had gone down and in another few days it would be like it had never been broken at all.
She