Death Bringer (15 page)

Chapter 22
The Church of the Faceless

corn kept her waiting, but it was a beautiful morning outside so China didn't mind. It was an obvious little game, designed to teach her who was in charge. A little clumsy, and somewhat disappointing to see that dear old Eliza would resort to it, but it was an inoffensive tactic. According to Gallow, today was the day that he would be revealed to China. She wasn't sure yet if she believed him, but she definitely didn't trust him. He had told her to act suitably surprised when he appeared. China hadn't made any promises.

She became aware of Prave glaring at her from across the church, and arched an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

“I'm not in love with you,” he snarled.

“How dreadful for me.”

He gripped the sweeping brush like he was strangling it. “You think everyone falls in love with you. Well, you're wrong. They are weak-minded fools. That's not me.”

“Obviously.”

“The only love in my heart is for the Faceless Ones, and you will not take that from me.”

“Perish the very thought, Mr…” She paused. “Whatever your name is.”

“Prave,” he blurted.

“Mr Prave, excellent.”

“I have worshipped the Dark Gods since I was a boy. My parents were loyal to them. My father fought alongside Mevolent himself.”

“That's nice.”

“He wasn't a traitor. Not like you!”

“And what was your father's name?”

“Benzel Travestine. He was at Mevolent's side when they destroyed the Sanctuary in Marseilles.”

“I doubt it. I've never heard of your father, and I was in Marseilles when the Sanctuary fell. It was my Diablerie that opened the doors to allow Mevolent entry. Your father wasn't there, I'm afraid.”

Prave stared at her. “You're lying.”

“I could name each and every sorcerer who toppled that Sanctuary. I won't, because you're truly not worth the effort, but I could. It seems your father was exaggerating his importance, Mr Prave.”

“My father was a hero!”

“To his weak-minded son, I'm sure he was.”

Prave hurled the sweeping brush away and stormed over, fists clenched. China turned her head to him and sighed. He stopped a hand's breadth away, face red and snarling, like he was forcing himself not to commit incredible acts of violence.

“You,” China said, “are a very impressive man.”

“
Do not mock me!
” he screeched.

China smiled. “Walk back over there, pick up the sweeping brush and continue cleaning. Or go for a nice walk and think about all the lies your father told you. I really don't care what you do, so long as you stop breathing on me. It's really not as soothing as you might think.”

Prave's bulging eyes bulged even further, which was a feat in itself. “I should kill you right here.”

“You know,” China said, “there was a time when nobody dared threaten me. I just wouldn't stand for it. The amount of people I killed, of bodies I twisted and bones I snapped, all because they had allowed their anger to momentarily overwhelm their good sense. I regret it all now, of course. I was out of control. I was indulging the darkness inside me far too often. I was not, Mr Prave, a very nice person. But I have changed. I have allowed the years to mellow me. Now I find joy in simple pleasures. A good book. A fine wine. Good company. All of these things make me smile. They make me happy.

“But every once in a while, I get the urge. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? The urge for destruction. The urge to hurt, maim, kill. It's quite a thing, to experience that urge, to let it wash over you, to give in to it. It's addictive. It's all-consuming. You lose yourself to it. It's quite, quite wonderful. I can feel it, even as I speak, tapping around the edges of my mind, trying to prise me open, slip its fingers in. And it would be so easy to let it happen. But we're all like that, aren't we? We're all barbarians at our core. We're all savage, murderous beasts. I know I am. I'm sure you are. The only difference between us, Mr Prave, is how loudly we roar. I know I roar very loudly indeed. How about you? Do you think you can match me?”

Prave had grown quite pale. His fists were no longer clenched and he was no longer gritting his teeth. He took a step back, then another one. He hesitated, then slowly turned and went back to his sweeping brush.

China shrugged, and Scorn appeared at the door.

“China,” she said. “So sorry to have kept you waiting.”

“Not at all,” China smiled. “Mr Prave here was entertaining me. I do so like how you've kept him around.”

Scorn shrugged. “Ah, well, I made the mistake of feeding him, you see, and now he just won't go away.”

China heard Prave muttering under his breath.

“But I didn't ask you here to help me insult the help, as fun as that may be. I have a surprise for you.”

“Let me guess,” China said. “You've changed your mind and you're going to put all this nonsense behind you.”

“Not even close,” said Scorn. “Do you want another try? I bet you won't guess what it is.”

“You're going to tell Skulduggery Pleasant what you're planning to do and let him shoot you in the head.”

“Wrong again, I'm afraid. Do you want one more try?”

“I'd love one more try.”

“Then go ahead, China. Guess what the surprise is.”

China paused, tapped her chin thoughtfully and smiled. “I know. Is it, by any chance, Jaron Gallow with a brand-new arm?”

Oh, she wished she had a camera to capture the look on Eliza Scorn's face. Gallow emerged from the doorway behind, suddenly unsure, suddenly paranoid that he'd been betrayed, that he was walking into a trap. There was a sudden fear in his eyes that was almost impossible to fake, and now China did believe him.

“How did you know?” Scorn asked. Almost snarled, in fact.

“Please,” China said dismissively. “I know what he had for breakfast this morning. I know what he's been doing since he got back to Europe. I was only wondering how long it would take you to reveal him.”

A smile appeared on Scorn's lips. “You always were impossible to surprise. Jaron here has just returned to the fold. I hope there's no bad blood between you.”

“What's in the past is in the past,” China said. “I'm going to end up killing every one of you for all this, and one more name added to the list won't make much difference.”

Gallow looked at her, then at Scorn. “I thought you said she was under control.”

“She is,” Scorn said. “She just likes to say these things to pretend she's still in charge. But as long as I keep her secret, China will do what she's told. For instance, I told her to come back with information about all this Necromancer fuss I've been hearing about. China?”

Everyone else was standing, so China sat on a pew and crossed her legs. She looked at Scorn without tilting her chin, pleased with the way she had changed the dynamic of the room. “Melancholia St Clair is the latest Necromancer to be handed the title ‘Death Bringer',” she said. “Unlike the others, however, it seems that this girl will actually strive to fulfil her duties.”

“And what are her duties?” asked Gallow.

“To usher in the Passage, and to save the world. If your next question is to ask me about the Passage, you can save your breath. It is something of a mystery, even to those who trade in mysteries. Suffice to say, the end result is a supposedly better world where the living and the dead exist side by side.”

“Ridiculous,” Scorn said. “That would completely negate death. It would reduce it to a mere concept.”

“And, possibly, make the world a better place.”

Scorn shook her head. “The world is how the Faceless Ones left it, and that is how it shall stay. If it looks like the Necromancers have a chance of success, we may have to act against them.”

“But that's what the Sanctuary is doing,” Prave said, hurrying over. “Shouldn't we stay out of it? We'd just get in the way.”

Scorn didn't even look at him, but Gallow did, and Prave shrank back. “I don't know you,” Gallow said. “I've just met you. Already I want to hurt you.”

“You, uh, you actually do know me,” Prave said. “We met twice, actually. It was only for a few minutes, though, so you probably don't remember.”

“I don't,” Gallow said. “At all. Even remotely. And I'm glad. Remembering you would annoy me. It would mean you somehow managed to take up space in my head, and I reserve space in my head for people who interest me or, at the very least, have something worthwhile to offer. Now shut up, and don't say anything else.”

Prave gaped at him. “How… how dare you. I rescued the Church of the Faceless from collapse. I built it back up to—”

“You built it back up to
this
?” Gallow didn't have to gesture to his surroundings to make his point. “You're a weak, miserable little man, with no concept of what it will take to bring back the Dark Gods. We
could
leave this Death Bringer business to the Sanctuary, but that would mean entrusting the Sanctuary with all of our future plans. Is that what you want?”

Scorn turned her head, smiled at Prave. “Maybe you could make us all some tea.”

Prave blinked his bulbous eyes. “Tea?”

“A nice big pot, there's a good man.”

“But… but I'm in this! I'm involved in… in this whole thing. I'm one of the
leaders
!”

Scorn raised an eyebrow. “You? Oh, my word, no. No, Prave, you are not one of the leaders. There is only one leader here, and that is me. Gallow is my second, China is our reluctant sponsor and untrustworthy ally, and you're the one who makes the tea. So, Prave, enough of this silly talk and the giving of your inconsequential opinions. Be a dear, and go and make the tea.”

Prave closed his mouth, his wet lips pressing together like slippery eels, then turned abruptly and left the room. His ears, which were substantial, burned so red they practically left a heat trail behind him.

Scorn nodded to China. “Continue.”

“Melancholia attacked Valkyrie Cain, and the Sanctuary have seized upon the chance to issue an arrest warrant.”

“They're getting ready to strike,” Scorn murmured.

“What about Lord Vile?” Gallow asked. “I haven't been so out of the loop that I didn't hear of his return.”

“His
supposed
return,” Scorn said. “But has he been seen since he battled Skulduggery Pleasant?”

Gallow looked at her. “You think his return is a lie?”

“Perhaps. What could spook the Necromancers more than a rumour that Lord Vile is out to get them?”

“But if he has returned, and he does seek to destroy the Death Bringer, then maybe we can convince him to come back to our side.”

Scorn looked at him. “And how do you propose we do that? Are you going to use your longstanding friendship with him to delay his killing stroke while you make your case? Oh, no, that's right. You don't
have
a longstanding friendship with him, do you? No one does. We may have fought alongside him during the war, but that was a long time ago. We don't know where his loyalties lie.”

“We know it's not with the Necromancers,” Gallow said. “That's something, at least.”

“China,” Scorn said, “what do you think?”

“I think approaching Lord Vile is a wonderful idea,” China answered, smiling. “I think the pair of you should go and talk to him. I'm sure he'd love that.”

“If I didn't know any better, I'd swear you were trying to get me killed before I have a chance to upstage you at the Requiem Ball.”

“You're attending?”

“Why, yes. And why shouldn't I? We're celebrating the end of the war, aren't we?”

“Indeed we are,” said China. “But I doubt there will be many guests there who fought on the losing side.”

Scorn shrugged. “Winning side, losing side, it's all a matter of degree. And then there's you, of course. You don't
have
a side, do you? You abandoned your side. Turned your back on your—”

“If you're going to describe what a traitor I am, I feel I have to tell you that I've heard it all before, and if you're finished with me, I have a library to get back to.”

“Finished with you?” Scorn laughed. “China, my darling, I haven't even
started
.”

She met Gallow later that night, under the moon and the stars.

“That list of twelve people,” she said, “the important and influential sorcerers Eliza was talking about. They're going to be at the Requiem Ball.”

Gallow frowned. “You're sure? She'd meet with them right under everyone's noses? It's far too dangerous.”

“Not for Eliza. It's the perfect excuse to talk to them. We're going to need that list if we want to shut this down before it starts.”

Gallow smiled. “You want to assassinate them, don't you?”