“Oh,” said Darquesse. “That’s so sad.”
“It’s a little depressing, yeah. So is that what you’re investigating, this energy?”
“I’m seeing how it works.”
“Found out much?”
“A fair bit. I might need to talk to some experts, though. Maybe scientists. I need to know how things work before I can play with them, you know?”
“That makes sense,” said Sanguine carefully.
“You know what’d be handy? Remnants. Lots of them. They take over the experts, the experts tell me what I want to know. Doesn’t that sound handy?”
“Uh, it sounds more trouble than it’s worth …”
“Nonsense,” said Darquesse. “The Remnants are lovely. Aren’t you engaged to one, after all?”
“Tanith’s a special case, though. And how are you even gonna find them? The Receptacle has been hidden away—”
“No it hasn’t,” Darquesse said happily. “There were plans to relocate it. Great plans. Plans that got sidetracked. Forgotten about. Quietly abandoned. The Receptacle is still in the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks, guarded by a few sorcerers and a squad of Cleavers. No problem.”
“You really think this is a good idea? Last time those Remnants were loose, you killed a whole bunch of them. Remnants have long memories.”
“You don’t think they’ll like me?” Darquesse asked, and frowned. “Maybe we should ask Tanith.”
She walked out and Sanguine hesitated, then followed. They found Tanith in the kitchen, sipping from a mug of coffee.
“I’m going to set the Remnants free,” Darquesse said. “What do you think about that?”
Tanith paused, then took another sip and shrugged. “Don’t really care one way or the other, to be honest. Some of them will be happy to see you. Some won’t.”
“Want to come with me? Say hi?”
“Sure,” said Tanith. “Let me drink this and I’ll meet you on the roof.”
Darquesse grinned, went to the window and flew out.
Tanith watched Sanguine for a moment. “You look like you have something to say.”
He kept his voice low. “You know she killed some people just to look at their energy, whatever the hell that means? She’s killing people, but not seeing it like killing people. Tanith, that ain’t safe. She’s tipping over the edge.”
“Of what? Sanity? Billy-Ray, what does sanity mean to someone like her? How does it apply?”
“She could kill us just as easily as anyone else.”
“No,” Tanith said. “She won’t kill us. Not till right before the end.”
“She can do no wrong in your eyes, can she?”
“Actually,” said Tanith, “she’s doing plenty wrong. She’s wasting time, for a start. I mean, what’s the problem? She has enough power to turn the world into a blackened, charred husk.”
“Is that what you want?”
“You know that’s what I want.”
“I know that’s what you wanted,” said Sanguine. “But that was before you talked to that guy who’d learned to control the Remnant inside him.”
“His name is Moribund. And he doesn’t control the Remnant, OK? How many times do I have to say it? After a few days, the Remnant stops being a separate entity.”
“OK, sorry, but my point remains. He said you didn’t have to be this way. He said you could rebuild your conscience if you worked at it.”
“Why would I want to?” said Tanith. “I’m happy being me.”
“No you’re not.”
Tanith laughed, put the coffee down. “Oh, really? You’re the expert on how I feel and what I think, are you?”
“I saw you working alongside Valkyrie and the Monster Hunters and the Dead Men. You were having fun, sure, but it was more than that. You were where you belonged.”
“Why don’t you just admit it? You don’t want Darquesse to destroy the world, do you?”
Now it was Sanguine’s turn to laugh. “Of course I don’t.”
“Then why are you helping us?”
“Because I love you and I wanna be there when you realise you’re wrong, because on that day you’ll need someone to have your back.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Love makes a fool of us all.”
“Will you please stop saying that word?”
“Why? It making you uncomfortable? Maybe the more you hear it, the more you’ll remember it. Maybe that’s the problem here.”
“There is no problem,” said Tanith. “I just want Darquesse to hurry up and kill everything.”
“You want the world to end now because the longer it takes, the more time you have to think, and doubt, and question yourself. See, you’re coming off a wonderful certainty, where you knew for sure that you wanted the world to end. But you don’t have that certainty any more, and that scares you.”
Tanith shot him a glare, and walked to the window. Right before she climbed out she looked back and said, “You don’t know me half as well as you think you do.”
“That’s right,” said Sanguine, “I don’t. But hell, Tanith, you don’t know yourself, either.”
They drove by the elderly sorcerer whose job it was to turn back any mortal who strayed too close. He nodded to them, and a few moments later the road narrowed and they passed through the illusion of emptiness that protected Roarhaven from mortal eyes. The city loomed, its huge gates open. The Bentley slid through the streets, parked below ground. Stephanie followed Skulduggery into the Sanctuary corridors and they went deeper. They walked without speaking. Stephanie wondered if Skulduggery even remembered she was there.
They got to the cells. Skulduggery spoke with the man in charge, told him what he needed. Moments later, they were in the interview room. Skulduggery sat at the table. Stephanie walked slowly from one wall to the other and back again, her hands in her pockets. She looked round when the door opened, and a small, neat man stepped in. Creyfon Signate was dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, and his hands were shackled before him.
“Finally!” he said, once he saw who had summoned him. He walked forward, dropping into the empty chair.
Skulduggery tilted his head. “I’m sorry?”
“I’ve been asking to speak to someone in charge ever since