The Dying of the Light (63 page)

She trailed off as an idea came to her, and the full weight of what she had to do made itself known. It dragged at her soul, leaving her empty inside.

“Val?” Tanith said.

Valkyrie turned to China. “The gauntlet,” she said. “The Deathtouch Gauntlet. I left it in the Ops Room. Get it for me. Please. I have to go back to the Medical Wing.”

Tanith gripped Valkyrie’s arm, as if she were afraid she might collapse. “What’s wrong? Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” Valkyrie insisted, disentangling herself. “I have to get something. I’ll meet you back in the Ops Room.” She ran, retracing her steps, holding her side as it began to ache dully. When she re-entered the Medical Wing, the staff were too busy to notice her, so she searched without being seen, found what she was looking for and pocketed it. A wail of pain caught her attention and she looked over. A woman having a broken bone reset. Nasty. But behind that woman, someone moving, someone slipping out of one of the smaller doors. Ravel.

She didn’t have time for this. She really didn’t. But she went after him anyway.

The moment the door shut behind her, the sounds of the Medical Wing dimmed to almost nothing. Valkyrie followed the corridor into a part of the Sanctuary she wasn’t familiar with. She passed libraries with bookcases that stretched to the ceiling. She passed a room of swords, and another of masks, and another of glass cases containing old, wrinkled body parts suspended in solution.

She saw a flickering orange light on the walls, and she turned very, very slowly.

Ravel stood, leaning against the wall. His right hand, level with her belly, glowed with energy. He looked tired.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He sounded weary. “Don’t you have enough to be worrying about without coming after me? I’m not a threat to you.”

“You’re a prisoner.”

He shook his head. “Not any more. I thought I’d be OK with it. When I made my plans, all that time ago, I knew I’d end up either dead or in shackles. I’d made my peace with that. But after what Darquesse did to me … you have no idea what it was like.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I’m leaving, Valkyrie. You’ll never see me again. I’m going to spend the rest of my life alone. That’s enough punishment, isn’t it? Exile?”

“Enough punishment? You had Shudder killed. You murdered Ghastly with your own hands. You started a war that killed hundreds of sorcerers. You’re seriously telling me that a just punishment for all that is you feeling lonely?”

“I’m not going to stand here and justify my actions to you.”

“Good.”

“But you’re not going to stop me. Darquesse is still out there, isn’t she? She’s your concern. Worry about her, not me. I’m not your enemy.”

“Your hand is lit up. Are you going to fire? How will I fight Darquesse if you kill me? What if we fail, and she goes after you?”

A glimmer of cold determination flashed in Ravel’s eyes. “I’ll be ready for her. If she comes after me, she’s going to have to finish the job. No more torture. No more taking her time.” He raised his hand. “Go on, Valkyrie. You’re not wearing your jacket. If I fire, you’re dead.”

She didn’t have time for this. Didn’t have time for him. “OK,” she said. “But when we’re done with Darquesse, we’re coming after you.”

Ravel smiled sadly. “You’ll never find me.”

His hand stopped glowing and he stepped back, and Valkyrie hurried back the way she’d come.

She got to the Ops Room just as Fletcher teleported the Sensitives away. China stood with Tanith and Sanguine at the table. Apart from them, the room was empty, the monitors abandoned.

“Valkyrie,” Sanguine said. “You look dead.”

She ignored him. The badly-flickering Roarhaven hologram showed the devastation the explosion had caused. Smoke rose from rubble. She could even see little bodies lying in the streets.

China gave her the Deathtouch Gauntlet and she pulled it on. It felt heavy and cold.

“Use the sigil to activate and deactivate,” China said, indicating the symbol burnt into the black steel. “When it’s activated, whatever you do, do not scratch your nose.”

Valkyrie flexed her fingers. “It kills without pain?”

China nodded. “Instant, painless death, whatever you touch. Are you sure you’ll be able to get close enough to use it?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Valkyrie murmured. A cough rose in her chest and burst painfully. She wiped blood from her mouth.

“Jesus, Val,” Tanith whispered.

“I saw Ravel,” Valkyrie said. “He’s running. He said if Darquesse finds him he’ll be ready for her. I think he’s going to use the Accelerator.”

China’s eyes narrowed. “One more use could overload it. Very well. Tanith, Mr Sanguine, you go with Valkyrie. We can’t detect Darquesse on the map, but the odds are she’s still in the blast area. I’ll head down to the Accelerator and deal with—”

She stopped, frowning over Valkyrie’s shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?”

The Black Cleaver stood in the doorway.

“How can you be my bodyguard if you’re never around?” China continued.

The Cleaver took out his scythe.

“Now what are you doing? There’s no one to guard me against now, you moron. Wait till our enemies show up before taking that thing out.”

Valkyrie’s hand closed round China’s wrist. “Wait.”

“Don’t worry about it, Valkyrie. He’s defective. Always has been.”

“No,” said Valkyrie. “What he’s always done is obey orders. A Necromancy technique brought him back to life, so he started off by obeying the Necromancers. But then Nye stitched him back together, so it stands to reason that now he’d obey Nye’s orders …”

“Yes? So?”

“So Nye was just broken out of prison.”

China stopped trying to pull her wrist free. “With suspicious ease. A prison run by a secret member of the Church of the Faceless.”

“And Eliza hasn’t exactly been happy with you, has she?”

China observed the Black Cleaver. “Have you been sent here to assassinate me, you treacherous little toad?”

The scythe whirled, and the Black Cleaver started forward.

Valkyrie and the others immediately began backing away.

“Billy-Ray,” Tanith said, her sword already in her hands, “take Val where she needs to go.”

“I ain’t leaving you,” Sanguine said, his hand reaching into his jacket.

Tanith’s eyes never left the Cleaver. “Yes you are, goddamn it.”

“But get back here immediately after,” said China.

Tanith nodded quickly. “Immediately.”

Sanguine’s face was a mass of conflicting emotions. Finally, he grabbed Valkyrie. “Fine,” he snarled. “But don’t die while I’m gone.”

The ground cracked and swallowed them.

The fear that gripped Tanith’s heart as she fought the Black Cleaver was not new. She had felt it before, in corridors very similar to this one, deep in the bowels of the old Sanctuary, back in Dublin. There she had faced this same man, back when he was clad in white, and a supposed pawn of Nefarian Serpine. Every move he had countered, every attack he had parried, and even when she thought she’d had him beaten, he had answered with a strike that very nearly ended her life.

And here she was again.

Tanith ducked the scythe and darted close, but the ever-spinning staff blocked her own sword swipe and sent her reeling. A snaith, the wooden handle was called. She’d learned that much since the last time they’d tangled, at least. She liked to know the name of things that hurt her. It was handy to have something upon which to focus her frustration.

The scythe whistled for her face and she jerked back, almost stumbled, managed to keep her feet beneath her while the Black Cleaver advanced. China was behind her, moving out of the Ops Room into the corridor, and Tanith followed. The Black Cleaver came last, his blade catching the light when it blurred by at a particular angle. It was pretty, in its way. Tanith’s sword caught the light, too, but there was no rhythm to it. Against such an opponent her skills seemed to dull, and the grace and fluidity she was used to displaying abandoned her, replaced by clumsy movements and wild, desperate lunges. Fear made her stiff and uncoordinated, and filled her head with thoughts and strategies when it needed to be clear. The Black Cleaver let his body do the thinking. Tanith had forgotten how.

The Cleaver spun and caught her with a kick.

China flung her arms out, unleashing a wave of blue energy that cracked the ceiling and the floor, but which the Black Cleaver moved through like it was nothing more than a strong wind. China stepped back, tapping hidden tattoos around her body that glowed briefly beneath her clothes. Sigils on her legs made her faster, not only in movement but also in reaction. Even so, she barely stayed more than a hand’s length from the blade that sought her out.

Tanith leaped. The Black Cleaver spun at the last moment, deflected her blade, but as Tanith landed she sprang again, twisted in mid-air and caught him with a kick. At the same time, China tapped her chest with both index fingers and a stream of energy burst from her sternum. It hit the Cleaver square in the back and he went staggering to his knees.

The energy stream cut off and China sagged, suddenly very pale. Trails of smoke rose from the Cleaver’s coat as he stood. He turned to them, the scythe twirling in his hands.

Valkyrie hung on as Sanguine burrowed through the earth, the rumbling filling her ears. She kept her eyes closed against the constant spray of dirt, rocks and stones scraping painfully against her T-shirt and her bare arms. They changed direction a few times, then went up, bursting free of the darkness, into the daylight.

Sanguine let her go without a word, and he sank back into the ground.

In this part of Roarhaven, the streets were smoking ruins.

She heard her name being called – her mortal name – and scrambled up on to a hill of rubble. The wind was deceptive, carrying sounds through the ruined streets and whipping them away again before Valkyrie had time to pinpoint their source. All she could see was desolation and smoke. She hugged herself, shivering against the cold. She wished she had her jacket.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Darquesse said from behind her, “but you look terrible.”

Valkyrie turned, and Darquesse’s gaze dropped to her arms.

“You’re wearing it,” Darquesse said, almost excitedly. “The gauntlet thing! And you have the tattoo! You know what that means, don’t you? The vision is about to come true.”

“Not necessarily,” said Valkyrie, coming back down the pile of rubble carefully. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see the aura that would alert her to Darquesse’s intent to use magic. “Already little things are different. There’s no Ghastly, for a start. And you’re wearing different clothes.”

“But you’re not, so not everything has to be different. I’m still going to take your family away from you.”

“Why? You came from me – in a way, they’re your family, too.” Valkyrie picked up a faint silver light emanating from within Darquesse. “You said you wouldn’t hurt them.”

“I have no intention of hurting them,” Darquesse said. “In fact, this
will
be different from the vision, because instead of burning them right out of existence, I’m going to allow them to live on as energy. You see? You’re not the only one to have learned a few things from seeing the future.” Her eyes flickered to the gauntlet, and her smile widened. “So come on. What does it do? Does it make you strong? I was punching you with everything I had and you didn’t even bleed. You looked indestructible. You don’t look indestructible now. What’s the matter? Did you break it?”

“Why don’t you come over here and find out?”

Darquesse laughed, and suddenly Valkyrie could see the aura surrounding her, like a light being switched from dim to full. “Oh, I would, but you’re a sneaky little thing. I should know, right? I think it’d probably be best to take care of you from over here.”

She raised her hand and the silver light pulsed, and Valkyrie held out her left hand, which was glowing white beneath the bandages. The white energy pushed against the silver, keeping it back.

Darquesse frowned, and the silver retreated, and Valkyrie lowered her hand.

“How did you do that?” Darquesse asked.

Valkyrie tried to reply, but her legs were shaking and her mouth was dry. That one act of self-defence had drained her.

Darquesse approached slowly and Valkyrie concentrated on not falling down. If Darquesse knew how weak she was, it’d be all over. Instead, she watched her come with what she hoped was a calm expression on her face. She couldn’t even run if she’d wanted to. Darquesse got closer and Valkyrie found herself wishing she’d move faster. Valkyrie’s legs weren’t going to be able to keep her up for very much—

Valkyrie’s legs gave out and she fell to her knees.

The scythe opened up Tanith’s arm and China had to cover her as she stumbled away from the return swipe. Blood ran freely down to her hand, turning her grip on her sword slick. Another cut to add to her growing collection. Her left leg and her back shared similar wounds.

The Cleaver’s boot heel smacked against China’s jaw. She spun, her legs folding beneath her. Tanith charged, gritting her teeth as she pressed the attack. The Cleaver met her coolly and then, almost like he was proving that he could, he caught Tanith with the exact same kick that had felled China.

She hit the ground. She’d lost her sword.

Running footsteps. Someone had called for help. Finally. The Cleavers closed in, grey surrounding black. No time was spent on questions, and no breath wasted on negotiations. The greys had their enemy, and they attacked. They worked as a team, feinting when another slashed, moving forward when another dropped back. Their scythes went high and low and the Black Cleaver spun and dodged and parried and blocked. The sharp clang of blade upon blade and the dull whack of snaith upon snaith filled the corridor in a rapid rhythm, never slowing. Few openings appeared during the furious exchange, but when they did, scythe blades slid uselessly across armoured uniforms. Unless someone took the initiative, they’d fight themselves to a standstill.