The Dying of the Light (56 page)

“I see something,” her dad said, his eyes on the rear-view mirror. “I think there’s someone—”

Headlights flicked on, singular beams that cut through the gloom on either side of the minivan. There was a loud bang, like a gunshot or a small explosion, and the minivan wobbled violently. Her dad cursed, but Vex’s eyes were open and calm.

“Everyone hold on,” Valkyrie’s dad said, and Valkyrie braced herself right before he braked. The minivan skidded to a shuddering, juddering halt, and two motorbikes sped into the yellow glare of his headlights and rode onwards, vanishing into the dark.

“Alice,” Melissa Edgley said, starting to scramble into the rear seats as her husband flicked on the interior light.

“She’s fine,” said Vex, holding up his hand to block her way. It glowed briefly, but it was enough to make Valkyrie’s mum freeze.

“Put your hand down,” Valkyrie’s dad said. “Melissa, stay where you are. Mr Vex, do not threaten my wife. Put your hand down.”

Vex gave a little smile, and lowered his hand.

“Who was that?” Valkyrie’s dad asked. “Steph, did you know those people? They blew out a tyre or something.”

It was Vex who answered. “A man named Vincent Foe and his gang ride motorcycles, Desmond, and they happen to be working with Darquesse.”

“You think she’s here?” Valkyrie asked.

“No,” said Vex. “She sends Foe out to do the little jobs she can’t be bothered with. The only people out there are Foe and Samuel.”

“We can take them,” Valkyrie said, without much conviction.

“I’m sure you can.”

She frowned. “You’re not coming? I don’t have my magic back yet.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Vex.

“You have to go with her,” Valkyrie’s mum said. “She can’t go out there alone.”

“She’s got her stick, hasn’t she? She won’t need me. Besides, I’m babysitting. Hurry now, Valkyrie. We don’t want Alice waking up.”

She could have argued, but she knew it’d be a waste of time. She unbuckled her seatbelt.

“I’m coming with you,” her dad said.

“You can’t,” Valkyrie responded. “I may not be able to do magic, but my clothes are armoured. Yours aren’t. Everyone stay here. I’ll see if I can talk our way out.”

She got out, closing the door behind her. The road was narrow, with trees on either side. Quiet. She stood in front of the minivan. Her shadow stretched before her, joining the darkness ahead.

The motorbikes were coming back. They stopped just out of reach of the minivan’s headlights, and the engines cut off. A moment later, Foe and Samuel stepped into view, and her heartbeat quickened once more. Samuel was sweating. His hands were clenched. He was coming down off his serum. He was a hair’s breadth away from turning.

“If things had gone differently,” said Foe, “we’d just take the Sceptre. That’s all we want, after all. Anyone else who wants the Sceptre also wants your sister so they can kill her and take control of it. But we have no intention of taking control of it. Darquesse doesn’t want to use it. She just doesn’t want anyone
else
to use it. So, as I said, if things had gone differently, we would have asked for the Sceptre, and ridden off into the night. But things didn’t go differently. Things went exactly as they went.”

Samuel walked to the edge of the light, and vanished into the darkness.

“Obloquy is dead,” Foe continued. “That’s not your fault. Darquesse did that, and Obloquy was fine with it. But Mercy … Mercy was killed to protect you. And I have to say, I have to say it, I kind of had a soft spot for Mercy. Call me an old romantic if you want, but I had dreams of dying with her. There’d be blood and screaming and fire and pain, and we’d be there … together.”

Foe passed into Valkyrie’s shadow, and was lost to sight.

“But I can’t have that now,” he said. “Because of you. And so, even though we’re just here for the Sceptre, and we have strict orders not to kill you, we’re going to anyway. We’re going to kill everyone with you, too. We’re going to kill your family. Your mammy and your daddy and your little baby sister. We’re going to beat you to a pulp, we’re going to make you scream and cry and beg, and we’re going to kill them in front of you. Then we’ll take the Sceptre and throw it in a ditch somewhere.” He emerged into the light. “That sound good to you?”

“Dexter Vex is with me,” Valkyrie said.

Foe nodded. “We’ll kill him, too.”

“You think you have a chance?” she asked. “Against me, yeah, of course you do. But him? This is Dexter Vex we’re talking about. One of the Dead Men. And with that Remnant he’s stronger and faster and doesn’t possess one shred of pity. If I were you, I’d get back on my bike and I’d ride away. Fast.”

“I like you,” said Foe. “Despite it all, I like you. You’re in a no-win situation that you’re treating like a fair fight. You’ve got guts. But I have a vampire.”

Something moved in the corner of her eye and then Samuel was on her, his body crushing her broken hand. She cried out and he snarled and launched her into the air. She landed and rolled, shrieking in pain as she got to her feet, but Samuel was there again to grab her.

“Beat her to a pulp,” Foe said, walking to the minivan. “I’m going to kill her family.”

Samuel hit her and Valkyrie dropped to one knee, her head swimming. Her jacket absorbed most of the kick that followed, but it still sent her tumbling. Holding her broken hand close to her chest, she whipped the shock stick from her back and leaped up. Samuel ducked under her first swipe and leaned back to avoid the second. Then he grabbed her wrist and twisted and the stick fell and his fist ploughed into her exposed belly and she staggered back, whooping and gasping.

Through teary eyes, she saw Foe reach the minivan.

Samuel grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. She twisted and fell and got up as he pulled her from one side of the road to the other. With her right hand, she tried pushing the air. She tried clicking her fingers. Nothing worked. The magic was inside her, it was bubbling and boiling and churning, but nothing was happening, nothing was working, nothing was—

White lightning danced from the tips of her fingers and Samuel jerked away.

Valkyrie scrambled backwards. Her hand. Her right hand was glowing.

Samuel doubled over. His snarls turned guttural. He straightened up suddenly, talons tearing into his clothes and skin, shredding it from the vampire’s body beneath. White skin like alabaster. Bald. Big black eyes. The vampire sprang at her, claws ready for ripping, fangs ready for tearing. Valkyrie fell on to her back, her glowing hand held up, and it was through her hand that she poured her magic.

Lightning burst from her fingers. It caught the vampire in mid-air, snapping it back like it had hit a wall. It fell to the road as a charred, smoking carcass.

“What did you do?”

She looked round. Foe came forward, staring at the vampire’s corpse, his face slack.

“
What did you do?
” he asked again. There was something in his face. Something Valkyrie recognised. Anger, of course. Surprise. Confusion.

But also fear.

It was dark, there on the roadside. But as Valkyrie stared at Samuel’s body, the patch of darkness she stood in seemed to brighten. At first, she thought she was caught in a beam of moonlight, but it just got brighter, and brighter.

Her hand. It was glowing again. Lit up from the inside with a silver light. Both her hands. And her face. Her neck. Beneath her clothes, her entire body was glowing. She stood up, fingertips burning. The magic churned inside her. Her hair stood on end. Energy crackled around her, forming a barrier that lifted her off the ground. Hissing in panic, she drifted sideways. The energy barrier kept her from colliding with a tree beyond the grassy verge. She didn’t know how to stand like this. She fell, but didn’t hit the ground. She turned over. Rolled. Tried to straighten up.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Foe.

She turned, falling backwards again in this cocoon of energy. Foe stood there, staring, the confusion on his face beautifully illuminated by the light Valkyrie was giving out.

She managed to stand. She was unsteady, but she did it.

Foe threw a stream of energy. It hit the cocoon and flowed round it. It didn’t hurt her. It didn’t even touch her.

He threw another, and another.

Something was happening. Valkyrie could feel it. The magic thrashed inside her. It was building up to something.

“Run,” she said.

Foe poured all his strength into another energy stream. It proved just as useless as the others.

“
Run
,” she said again, but it was too late. The magic burst from her in a wave that turned the trees to splinters. It hit Foe and he was gone. Obliterated. She could feel the wave expand in all directions. She could feel it nearing the minivan. She grimaced, reached out with her mind, searching for control. She reached to the edge of the wave and snagged it, grabbed it, pulled it back, pulled it all the way back, and the magic returned to her and she dropped to her knees in the crater that had formed around her.

She was no longer glowing.

She stood up on shaky legs. She was exhausted. The roadside was dark again.

“Stephanie!”

Her mum ran to her, and Valkyrie slumped into her arms.

“Oh, God, Steph, are you OK? Please tell me you’re OK.”

“I’m good,” Valkyrie mumbled.

“Oh, thank God. Oh, thank God. What was that? You were glowing and it was hard to look at you, it was all so bright. What was that lightning? Where’s that man? Where is he?”

Valkyrie forced her eyes open. “Mum, I need you to help me into the van. Too tired to …”

Her mother pulled her up. “Shh. Don’t talk. You don’t have to talk.”

They got back into the minivan and Valkyrie fell asleep while her dad changed the tyre.

p in the balcony, Fletcher and Wreath watched Skulduggery walk into the square at the exact centre of the Necropolis. There, another man in a black Necromancer robe stood waiting. Beneath his hood, like the others, his face was porcelain.

Skulduggery approached. “Do you have a name, or are names beneath you?”

That porcelain face smiled. “I am known as the Guardian. I am the final test.”

Skulduggery nodded, looked around, then back to the Guardian. “I go through you to activate the sigil, is that it?”

“In essence. But of course there is more to it than that.”

“Well, of course there is.” Skulduggery tilted his head. “Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me exactly what’s in store for me, are you?”

“True understanding comes later.”

“True understanding usually does.”

The Guardian smiled again. “You are a warrior.”

“When I need to be.”

“You are a violent man.”

“When I have to be.”

“Is it, do you think, an appropriate response to the world around you?”

“Violence?” Skulduggery asked. “Violence is never the answer, until it’s the only answer.”

Another porcelain smile. “Your words are weary.”

“They’re just well travelled. If I could save the world with words, I would. I’d lay down my gun and I’d talk until my bones turned to dust. But words are for reasonable people. And too often, the people I meet are far from reasonable.”

“You have blood on your hands.”

“I do, so other people don’t have to,” said Skulduggery.

“But that is not why you fight. You fight because the fight is all you have. You fight because you enjoy it.”

“What are you looking for?” Skulduggery asked. “An insight into my soul? You want to shock me into admitting some dark little secret that I’ve been hiding away for all these years? I’ve just spoken to beings claiming to be the ghosts of my friends, the ghost of my wife … I saw my
child
. After all these years, I saw the face of my child again. I’m all shocked-out for today. If we’re going to fight, let’s get to it.” Skulduggery raised his fists. “I’ve got living people to get back to.”

“So be it,” said the Guardian. “If you prevail, you may activate the Meryyn Sigil, and power grafted from the source of all magic shall endow the one who wears the sigil with great strength and protect them from harm, until the last grain of sand falls.”

Skulduggery dropped his hands. “I’m sorry, what?”

The Guardian gestured to the middle of the square, as a plinth rose from the ground. When it settled, an hourglass rose from within the plinth. “Once you have activated the Meryyn Sigil, the hourglass will turn and the sands will run.”

“For how long?” Skulduggery asked, stalking over to examine the plinth. “This amount of sand … it looks like it’ll only run for, what, a little over twenty minutes?”

The Guardian nodded. “Twenty-three, actually.”

Skulduggery looked back at him. “So, if I fight you now and I win, and the sigil is activated, Valkyrie will only be invulnerable for the twenty-three minutes after that moment?”

“Yes,” said the Guardian, sounding surprised at the question. “Twenty-three minutes of invulnerability and strength is quite generous, we thought.”

Skulduggery looked up, and Fletcher had the feeling he was glaring at Wreath. He switched his focus back to the Guardian. “There’s no way to delay it? I activate the sigil and the invulnerability kicks in when we need it?”