“Involved how?” Valkyrie asked, her eyes narrowing. “Is he a traitor?”
“My illicit investigation is just beginning. It’s too early to—”
“Just like Sagacious Tome,” Valkyrie interrupted. “And China!”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “China’s not a traitor.”
“But she used to worship the Faceless Ones, didn’t she?”
“Well, yes, but we’ve all done things we’re not proud of.”
“Even you?” Skulduggery looked at her, but didn’t say anything.
“How could a traitor be elected as the new Grand Mage?” Tanith asked, and he shook his head.
“These are my suspicions, nothing more. I liberated some files belonging to the Grand Mage—”
“Liberated?”
“—and I’ll need some time to go over them. Until then, Thurid Guild is innocent until proven guilty. That said, obviously we still don’t trust him. That would be silly.”
“Sure,” Tanith said.
“Absolutely,” Valkyrie said.
“All right then, have either of you managed to turn up anything that will help us?”
Valkyrie looked at Tanith, who suddenly looked down at her boots.
“I’ve been … reading.”
“Research?” Skulduggery asked. Tanith went a little red and Skulduggery tilted his head.
“You’ve been reading Gordon’s book again, haven’t you?”
“It’s a white-knuckle roller-coaster ride,” she mumbled.
He sighed and looked to Valkyrie. “And you?”
Echo-Gordon had asked her not to tell anyone about him, at least until he had grown used to the idea that he was the only version of Gordon Edgley left on the planet. Valkyrie had reluctantly agreed.
“I found something in one of Uncle Gordon’s notebooks,” she lied. “Apparently someone called the Torment might know where Vengeous hid the Grotesquery.”
“The Torment?”
“I don’t know if he’s real or not.”
“He’s real.”
“Do you know him?”
“No,” Skulduggery said. “But I know someone who does.”
He looked at them as he passed, looked at their blank faces and dull eyes. Half of them dug, half of them cleared rocks and they never took a break. Dusk’s command over them was absolute.
Sanguine left them to it. As he walked, he felt the knife in his belt. It was big and heavy and awkward. He much preferred his cut-throat razor, but that girl had taken it from him. He was looking forward to seeing her again.
The caves were big, and the lights they had rigged up barely made a dent in the darkness, through which Baron Vengeous now strode.
“The Infected have cleared the chambers to the east,” Sanguine told him. “The armour ain’t there. I’ve searched the caves to the west, didn’t find anythin’. Tunnelled through a couple of collapsed passageways to the north, still nothin’. Looks like the armour, if it’s here at all, is in one of the chambers to the south.”
“It’s here,” Vengeous said with confidence. “Lord Vile died in these caves, I know it. What of my garments?”
In order to don the armour, Vengeous would need special garments to protect him from the Necromancer power within. It had been Sanguine’s job to obtain these garments.
“They’ll be ready by nightfall,” Sanguine said, “as promised.”
“They had better be.”
Sanguine looked at him, but said nothing. The Baron was not a man to be trifled with, especially at a time like this. Someone else Sanguine didn’t like was Dusk. He didn’t like vampires as a rule, but he really disliked Dusk, especially the way he could sneak up without making a sound. Vengeous was the only person Sanguine had ever met who could hear Dusk approaching. Which was why, when Dusk spoke from right beside Sanguine, Sanguine jumped and Vengeous remained perfectly still.
“Baron,” Dusk said. “We have found it.”
Vengeous’ eyes glittered in the lamplight. They followed Dusk deeper into the cave system. Water trickled down rock walls, made the ground slippery. They walked towards a pack of the Infected, who stood back to let Baron Vengeous pass into this newly discovered chamber. Sanguine made his way to the front, and stood beside Dusk.
The lamps cast long shadows on the uneven walls. In the centre of the chamber was a large circular stone table and on that table lay the armour. It was dull, black and plain, without etchings or imprints. To Baron Vengeous, it must have been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Lord Vile’s armour.
Skulduggery looked up from the folder he was reading. “Vaurien, you haven’t been very co-operative with your interviewers, have you?”
“Don’t know what any of them are talking about.”
“You are a known associate of a man they call the Torment.”
He shrugged. “News to me.”
“What is?”
“That I know him.”
“Know who?”
“What?”
“That you know the Torment?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you do know him?”
“Yeah.” Then quickly, “No.”
“You don’t know him?”
“I, no, I, no. Never heard of him.”
“I hate to say this, Vaurien, but that’s astoundingly unconvincing.”
Scapegrace shook his head. “Who is he? I’ve never heard of him. Torment who?”
“Do you recognise the pretty lady behind you?”
Scapegrace tried to turn in his chair, but the shackles meant he could only crane his neck. He looked back to Skulduggery and shrugged. “Should I?”
“That there is Tanith Low. Perhaps you’ve heard of her. Tanith is a renowned