Skulduggery Pleasant: Mortal Cole (31 page)

41
THE HEAD IN THE BOX

D
rogheda town centre was lit up against the dark, but there was no one around to appreciate the Christmas lights. It was far too cold for people to be walking the streets, and the roads were far too icy for driving. Fletcher left Valkyrie and Tanith on the main street, gave Valkyrie a quick kiss, and offered another to Tanith. Valkyrie punched his shoulder and he vanished with a pained expression on his face.

“My eyeballs are cold,” Tanith said. “That’s not a good sign.”

They walked quickly, in an effort to warm themselves up.

“They’re saying this is the coldest winter in sixty years,” Valkyrie muttered. “I need a woolly hat and mittens.”

“Mittens,” Tanith echoed wistfully. “Maybe tied to my sleeves…”

“I need earmuffs too,” Valkyrie decided. “Fluffy ones. My ears are red, aren’t they?”

Tanith took a glance. “Yep. But not as red as your nose. I’m going to ask Ghastly to make me clothes like yours. Then only my hands and face will get frostbite.”

“Have you thought, maybe, that the reason you’re freezing your bits off is because you don’t wear
enough
clothes? How about wearing something under that waistcoat?”

Tanith pulled her coat tighter around her. “My waistcoat is not designed to have anything under it but me, Valkyrie.”

“And you wonder why you’re cold.”

They reached the church. As daunting as it was impressive, its spires stretched into the night sky like spear tips. The doors were locked, but clicked open at Tanith’s touch.

With the main lights off, the inside of the church was creepy. They passed a tomb that had a carving of skeletons wearing shrouds. To the left of the massive altar was a shrine, the centrepiece of which was a pedestal that held a glass case
ensconced in gold and surrounded by long candles. It was topped off with a brass spire that reached upwards for three metres. Resting inside the case was a mummified head, leathery and brown, with empty eye sockets and tiny yellow teeth. Tanith peered at it.

“Who’s this guy?” she asked.

“Oliver Plunkett,” Valkyrie told her. “In sixteen hundred and something, he was hanged, drawn and quartered for practising Catholicism in Ireland. By the English, of course.”

“Of course,” Tanith responded solemnly. “And we’re all very sorry about that.”

Valkyrie nodded. “As well you should be.”

“And why is his head on display in a church?” asked Tanith.

“Where else would you display a head?”

“Doesn’t it seem kind of gruesome to you? I mean,
we’re
used to seeing stuff like this, but what about ordinary people just coming here to pray, kneeling and muttering and crossing themselves, and they look over and see someone’s head in a glass box? That’s pretty morbid, not to mention kind of weird.”

“Excuse me?” said a voice from behind.

They turned. A priest stood there, paunchy and middle-aged. “I’m Father Reynolds,” he continued. “Can I help you with anything?”

Valkyrie held her hands down by her sides, ready to push at the air should she notice even one black vein. “We’re just passing through, Mr Reynolds,” she assured him.

He stiffened slightly. “That’s
Father
Reynolds,” he said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Valkyrie said. “And what’s your first name?”

“My full name is Father Declan Reynolds, and you, young lady, have broken into this church.”

“Pleased to meet you, Declan,” Valkyrie responded, ignoring the accusation. “I’m Valkyrie, this is Tanith. You might be able to help us, actually. We’re looking for something. It’s a flat piece of gold, about the length of your hand. Would you have seen it?”

The priest frowned at her. “You lost some gold?”

“We didn’t lose it,” Tanith said. “We’re just looking for it. A friend of ours told us it’d be somewhere near the head in the box. We’re assuming that he meant
this
head in the box, unless you have another one stashed away somewhere?”

“I may be new to the parish, but as far as I am aware, this is the only head in a box that we have. I’m sorry, if this is a joke, I fail to see how it is funny.”

“The flat piece of gold,” Valkyrie said. “Have you seen it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the priest said,
turning to walk away, “but maybe you can explain yourselves to the Guards when they get here.”

If he expected them to protest, or to run after him, he was disappointed. When he’d walked a few steps and they still hadn’t reacted, he whirled, to find them examining the box. “Come away from there at once.”

Valkyrie ran her hands along the base. “In a second,” she said.

“You are not allowed to touch the cabinet!” the priest shouted, storming towards them. Valkyrie’s fist caught him just under the chin. He stumbled back, his legs wobbling and his eyes already closing. He slumped to the ground and lay there, unconscious.

“Oh,” Valkyrie said. “I thought he was possessed.”

“Sure you did,” Tanith grinned. She pressed her hand against the golden base of the cabinet and they heard a soft
click.
She pushed, rotated her fingertips, and a flat piece of gold came away, dropping from the base into her palm.

“Damn,” she said. “I’m good.”

They called Skulduggery to let him know they’d found the first half of the key. He told them to walk to the bus depot and wait for him there.

Up through Drogheda, the streets were frozen and empty. The roads glistened, like someone had carelessly tossed down a hundred thousand tiny crystals. Parked cars were covered in frost, windshields thick with ice. Christmas lights gave it all an unearthly sheen, and somewhere far away a house alarm was going off.

Valkyrie and Tanith crossed the road and kept heading south, towards the bus depot. Valkyrie had her arms crossed, hands jammed under her armpits. Her ears were freezing and her nose was red and running. She stepped on an icy patch and her feet flew out from under her. For the third time in ten minutes, she landed on her backside. Tanith looked back and sighed. Even she had stopped finding that funny.

They crossed the bridge, staying off the pavements, sticking to the road, where it was less slippery. They hadn’t heard one single moving car, let alone seen one. The lights at the depot were on, and the buses sat still and silent. They hopped the low wall and Tanith pushed open the glass door. An old woman looked up from where she was sitting.

Valkyrie nodded to her warily, while Tanith went to the ticket booth. It was almost as cold in there as it was outside.

“There’s nobody else here,” the old woman said. “I tried the office as well. Nobody here at all.”

Tanith glanced at Valkyrie, and went to make sure. When she was gone, the old woman looked back to Valkyrie. “Have you been watching the news? Terrible, isn’t it? All those sick people.”

“It is,” said Valkyrie.

“I’ve been sitting here for hours. I tried calling my son, but I couldn’t get through.”

“The phones are down.”

“Is that what it is? I hope he’s all right. I hope he hasn’t got sick. He’s got children, you know. A ten-year-old and a four-year-old.”

“He’s probably fine,” said Valkyrie.

The old woman did her best to smile. “I just want to get home. It isn’t right. This town is never this quiet. Where are all the people? Are they all sick? The man on the news said that the sick people are prone to outbreaks of violence. If everyone is sick, it’s not safe here. I just want to go home.”

“Us too.”

“What’s your name, child?”

The old woman didn’t look like someone a Remnant would hijack. She was neither young nor strong. She was small, and her hair was white, and even though she was wrapped up against the cold, she looked thin and frail.

“My name’s Valkyrie.”

“That’s an unusual name. French, is it?”

“Uh, Scandinavian, I think.”

“It’s very pretty.”

Tanith came back. “No one here,” she said.

“I told you,” the old woman responded. “I’ve been here for three hours, and you two are the first people I’ve seen. I should just be thankful that you’re not like the ones they showed on the news.”

“Where do you live?” Valkyrie asked.

“Duleek,” the old woman answered. “Do you know it?”

“I’ve seen signs for it.”

“The Duleek bus was supposed to leave at ten past seven, but nothing out there has even moved. I haven’t seen any drivers. I don’t know how I’m going to get home.”

“We’re expecting a lift any minute now,” Valkyrie said, “maybe we could give you a—”

“Val,” Tanith interrupted, glaring at her.

“You’re very kind,” the old woman smiled, “but it’s quite all right.”

“We can’t leave her here,” Valkyrie said to Tanith.

“Why not?” Tanith answered. “Who’s going to touch her? She’s safer here than she would be with us.”

“It’s freezing in here.”

“So? She has mittens.” Tanith turned to the old woman. “Normally, I’d have no problem inviting you along. But for all we know, you might be sick.”

“Me?” the old woman said, surprised. “But I’m not running around hurting people.”

“No, you’re not. But you could be about to start.”

The old woman blinked at them, then seemed to shrink back into the layers of clothes she was wearing. “I should probably stay here anyway. My son might be looking for me.”

Tanith shrugged at Valkyrie. “See? Problem solved.”

Then the lights went out.

“Great,” she heard Tanith mutter.

For a few seconds, they were in nothing but blackness. Then Valkyrie’s eyes started to adjust, and she could see vague outlines in the gloom. The shape that was Tanith moved to a window.

“The whole town’s gone dark,” she said. “There’s not a light on for miles.”

“Maybe they have a torch in the office,” said the old woman, sounding scared.

“I have a lighter,” Valkyrie said, clicking her fingers. She
cupped the flame, disguising the fact that it burned in her palm.

“Oh, that’s bright,” the old woman said, relieved. “I don’t mean to be a burden on you, but is it at all possible to get a lift with you, when your friend comes? I don’t really like the idea of staying here alone.”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Valkyrie said. She could see Tanith in the flickering light. Her friend did not look pleased. “I’ll look for a torch.”

Valkyrie moved into the office, searched the two desks and then the shelves. She found a torch and clicked it on. The beam lit up the entire room.

“Found one,” she called.

She heard Tanith gag, and fear shot through her. She ran out of the office. The old woman had her thin, frail hands wrapped around Tanith’s throat.

Valkyrie gave a roar and the old woman cursed in a language Valkyrie had never heard before. Valkyrie was almost on top of her when the old woman’s thin, spindly fist flashed out, almost taking her head off. The torch went spinning across the floor and Valkyrie went down, rolled by pure instinct, got up and didn’t know what was happening. Her legs buckled slightly and she staggered, saw the old woman hurling punches down on Tanith.

Valkyrie’s palm snapped against the air, and the space rippled as the old woman shot sideways, whooping as she went. Tanith sprawled across the floor, unconscious

The old woman scrambled up. By the light of the torch Valkyrie saw her black lips and vein-ridden face.

“You can’t escape,” the old woman said. “And why would you want to? You have a glorious destiny.”

“It’s not destiny,” Valkyrie seethed, stepping closer. “Even if it was, I’ve changed it. It’s not happening.”

“That’s why we’re here,” the woman explained. “To make sure it does. Darquesse, we were aimless. We were nothing. We were anger and hatred and spite. But now? Now we have purpose. Now we have a future. With you.”

“If you want me to lead you, then let’s start right now. I have a pair of shackles in my pocket. I want you to put them on.”

The old woman smiled and shook her head. “You need to be guided further along the path,” she said. “Then you will assume your mantle. Then we’ll obey. Right now, you still think you’re Valkyrie Cain. You still think you have friends. Like this one.” The old woman knelt by Tanith, and stroked her hair. “Let me be your friend. I’ll leave this body, this old decrepit thing, and I’ll join with her. Such a nice form to take, with that
pretty face, with everything so hard, and strong, and firm. All this muscle, and all this leather.”

“Stop describing her,” Valkyrie said. “It’s getting weird.”

The old woman lunged, but Tanith raised her arm and tripped her, and the lunge turned to a stumble. Valkyrie slid into her, flipped her to the floor, got behind her and choked. The old woman squirmed like a fish, but Valkyrie held on. She didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to cause the old woman actual harm, she just needed her to go to sleep for a while. She tightened the choke and the old woman weakened, and then her head drooped forward. Valkyrie turned her on her side, and got up.

“Oh my God,” Valkyrie said numbly. “We just beat up a pensioner.”

“Evil pensioner,” Tanith corrected, coughing slightly as she dragged herself to her feet. “What was she babbling about? I heard her say Darquesse.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did. Just, you know, more babbling. Couldn’t make sense of half of it. You OK?”

“I’m good. A bit woozy. She has a pretty good right hook, you know. For a granny.”

42
THE LESSON BEGINS

“T
eleporting one thousand people is not that different from teleporting one person,” Gordon said as they sped down the empty motorway “The effort, the magic, goes into the initial opening of the rift in space. How wide that rift eventually opens is somewhat immaterial.”

“What rift?” Fletcher asked.

“Do you actually know how your power works?”

Fletcher couldn’t look at Gordon while they were in motion, so he kept his eyes fixed on the windscreen. “Sure. I think about a place I’ve been, and I go there. I don’t open a rift in space or anything.”

“Actually, that’s precisely what you’re doing. Emmett Peregrine told me how he got his head around it, and I think it might help you. Uh, Fletcher, I don’t want to sound like a schoolteacher or anything, but could you look at me when I’m talking to you?”

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