Yellow flashed bright and was gone, and something tangled with Valkyrie’s legs and she fell. Instead of falling on to hard ground and sand though, she fell on to grass, still wet from hours-old rain.
She blinked her sight back, realising she had tripped over Skulduggery’s feet and that they had both fallen. China had stayed upright of course, and she was commanding Fletcher to close the gateway. Valkyrie watched the portal shrink down almost instantly, then vanish.
They stood up and Fletcher stepped out of the circle. They all watched Skulduggery as he looked around at Aranmore Farm.
“Good God,” he said softly. “I’m home.”
“How are you?” China asked. For the first time Valkyrie noticed the blood on China’s clothes and how pale she was.
Skulduggery’s head tilted and he paused a while before answering. “I’m fine,” he said. “You’ve been shot.”
“I’m OK now.”
Fletcher walked up and handed over the Murder Skull. “I think this is yours.”
Skulduggery took the skull in one hand and looked at it. “Handsome devil,” he murmured. And then, “Why are there unconscious people lying around the place?”
“Guild sent some of his agents to stop us,” China said. “There are probably more on the way.”
“Then let’s not be here when they arrive.” He looked at Valkyrie and took a moment. “You saved me,” he said.
“I did,” she said.
She was expecting a hug. She didn’t get one.
“Good job,” said Skulduggery and started walking.
t the back of Sanguine’s mind there lay a question that would squirm, now and then, into his thoughts. How many of these men would he have to kill to get what he wanted?
He was confident he wouldn’t have to kill Scarab. Scarab was focused on the bigger picture – vengeance on a grand scale. Springheeled Jack wasn’t likely to get in his way either. Jack simply wanted to pay back everyone who’d ever wronged him. Sanguine could appreciate that.
But the others…They all wanted the same thing. Their prime motivation was revenge on the same person.
Valkyrie Cain.
Sanguine himself had his own reason for wanting to kill the girl, a pain that had plagued him ever since the day the Faceless Ones had come through the portal. He fully intended to back Scarab’s plan as far as he could and so far, he’d done his part. He’d stolen what he’d had to steal, and he’d broken Dusk out of prison by burrowing in and fighting his way out. Dusk was now building up one army and he was building up another. He was co-ordinating and facilitating the plan. And it was, admittedly, a good plan. If everything came together, it was a plan that would destroy their enemies, satisfy their bloodlust and change everything.
It wasn’t without its flaws of course – among them Vaurien Scapegrace who, as far as Sanguine could tell, was not the Killer Supreme he’d said he was. This, however, was Sanguine’s fault – he’d recruited him after all – and so it was his responsibility to take care of it.
But the plan was, essentially, a good plan and a solid one. However, the moment he saw his chance, he was taking it. He didn’t care if it ruined the plan, or got everyone else arrested or killed.
One way or another, Sanguine had decided, Valkyrie Cain was going to die – and he was determined to be the one to kill her.
“Skulduggery?” she called as she ran from the room. “Are you OK? Skulduggery?”
She hurried through the house, flinging open doors as she passed them. She reached the last room and just as she was about to barge in – “That hurt,” Skulduggery said from inside.
Valkyrie frowned at the closed door. “What happened?”
“I was changing my head. It feels good to have the old one back on. And now I have a spare, which is nice.”
Valkyrie stepped back as the door opened and Skulduggery emerged. His suit and tie were navy blue and his shirt was crisp and white. He tilted his chin. “What do you think of the head?”
“Uh, it’s…it’s really nice. Looks a lot like the other one.”
“What are you talking about? It’s completely different. The cheekbones are higher.”
“Are they?”
“Aren’t they?”
“I suppose they…might be. Is it comfortable?”
“Very.” He walked past her into the room where he kept his hats. “Where’s Ghastly? Have you told him I’m back?”
“Uh, no…”
“He mightn’t believe you. He might think I’m still hallucinating. You’d better tell him I’m not. I think he’d want to know that he’s not a figment of my imagination. I know I’d want to.” Skulduggery put on a hat that matched his suit, cocked it low over his eye sockets and admired himself in the mirror. “I have missed this,” he murmured.
“Ghastly was arrested,” Valkyrie said, trying to get him to focus. “Him and Tanith. They’re being held at the Sanctuary.”
“What for?”
“For helping me get you back. Guild made it clear that we were not to open that portal again. He said we couldn’t risk something escaping through.”
“Hmm. That was very wise of him.”
She glowered. “That’s not helping me in the slightest.”
“Now, Valkyrie, opening that portal was very dangerous. Sometimes you’ve got to admit it when you’re wrong.”
“You never admit it when you’re wrong.”
“But I’m rarely wrong, you see. You, on the other hand, are wrong a bizarrely large amount of the time. Statistically, it’s quite amazing.”
He opened a wooden box and slowly reached his gloved hand in. His revolver gleamed when he withdrew it. “Smith & Wesson,” he said lovingly. “You had it cleaned?”
“Last week,” she said and found herself smiling. “Thought you might want it.”
He opened the cylinder, took six bullets from the box and slid them into the chambers then clicked it shut and thumbed on the safety. He tucked the gun into the holster under his jacket.
“There,” he said. “I feel complete again.”
Fletcher walked in. “Hey,” he said.
“Fletcher,” Skulduggery nodded. “Did I thank you for opening the portal and getting me home?”