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24
“Where are you taking me?” Valkyrie asked. Xena ignored her, went snuffling through the undergrowth until she’d found a scent she liked, then set off in pursuit. Valkyrie sighed, and walked after her.
The night was cold, and she stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. She was getting to know the land around Grimwood pretty well, and didn’t need a torch any more. Pretty soon she’d be able to navigate these trails and paths through the trees without even thinking about it, like she’d been able to do back in Meek Ridge. She thought about Colorado, thought about how much she’d liked it there. She couldn’t go back, though. That part of her life was over. If things didn’t work out here, she’d go live somewhere new. Maybe even somewhere warm.
“How about it?” she asked the dark shape that was Xena. “How’s Australia sound?”
Xena didn’t answer.
“Find a nice place on the coast, far away from everyone. We could go swimming every day, what do you think about that?”
Xena bounded in front of her, looked around and bounded off again.
“We don’t have to decide now,” Valkyrie told her. “Take some time. Think about it.”
Her phone rang. Skulduggery. She chewed her lip, then answered on the fourth ring. “Hey,” she said.
“Hello. I’m at your front door.”
“Ah. I’m close by, just walking the dog.”
“A wholesome way to spend your time. May I join you?”
“I’ll light the way,” Valkyrie said, and hung up. Energy crackled around her hand, but she hesitated a little before letting it loose, straight overhead. It lit up the night for a split second.
Moments later, Skulduggery strode across the sky. He saw her and quickly dipped, keeping pace with her as she walked.
“How are you?” she asked.
“You mean since I got beaten, fair and square?” Skulduggery asked, landing beside her. “I am chastised. Humbled. A better person because of it, I think.”
She raised an eyebrow. He shrugged.
“No, you’re right. I’m none of those things. I’m angry, and ready for round two.”
“That’s what I figured,” she said. “Any word on Fletcher?”
“He’s conscious. Dr Synecdoche is optimistic that he’ll make a full recovery. Give him a few days. He’ll be fine.”
They ducked under a low branch.
“He saved us,” she said.
“Yes, he did.”
“We shouldn’t have gone in there.”
“In retrospect, no, we shouldn’t have. But we couldn’t have foreseen what happened.”
“That’s the problem,” Valkyrie said. “We didn’t know what we were going up against. We didn’t know who the enemy were. I’m trying to remember if we were always so …”
“Brash?”
She glanced at him. “I was going to say dumb.”
He shrugged. “We’ve walked into bad situations before. It’s how we find out who the enemies are, so we’re better prepared the next time.”
“If it wasn’t for Fletcher—”
“I know,” said Skulduggery. “I know.”
Xena was somewhere in the dark. Valkyrie had lost track of her.
“I thought you had him,” she said, coming to a stop. “Lethe. When it started, and he was bouncing around with all these fancy kicks, I said to myself, this’ll be over in a second.”
Skulduggery rubbed his arm. “And then he changed tactics. He’s better than me, I’ll give him that, but he took me by surprise. That won’t happen again.”
Xena came trotting back. She went right up to Skulduggery, tail wagging, and he crouched, scratching behind her ears.
“The Teleporter,” she said, folding her arms to keep herself warm. “Nero. He brought them all in, but they weren’t touching. I didn’t think that was possible. In order to teleport other people, you need to be touching them – that’s the rule, right?”
“As far as I know,” Skulduggery said. “But Neoterics don’t concern themselves with the rules.”
“And he followed Fletcher straight to Reverie. How did he do that? His powers … he can do a lot more than Fletcher – but Fletcher was almost a Neoteric, too, wasn’t he? I mean, he’s mostly self-taught.”
“But then Cameron Light found him,” said Skulduggery, straightening up. “And we gave him a book telling him how to harness his power. From that point on, his evolution was directed in the conventional way. If we’d left him alone, maybe he’d be able to do what Nero can do.”
“So are Neoterics more powerful than regular sorcerers?”
“Not necessarily. Our training makes us strong. Their unpredictability makes them strong.”
“They have a guy who can mess with time,” she said. “Any idea who he is?”
“I found no mention of him in the Neoteric Report, so I don’t know where Parthenios Lilt found him.”
“Lilt,” she said. “I’m assuming now is the time to go after him, yes?”
Skulduggery adjusted his hat slightly. “He has already been arrested,” he said. “Commander Hoc saw to it personally.”
“Have you interviewed him yet?”
“I doubt I’ll be able to.”
She frowned. “They wouldn’t stop you … would they?”
“Hoc is a smart man, and a good investigator, but when I was Commander we had our differences. Now that he’s in charge, I feel he would be disinclined to grant an interview request, even to an Arbiter.”
“But China would allow it.”
“No,” he said. “She wouldn’t.”
“Skulduggery, why did you quit?”
He took a moment before answering. “Politics.”
“China said you couldn’t handle being stuck behind a desk all day.”
“That was part of it.”
Valkyrie didn’t press it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to know.
“Shall we go back?” he asked. “You look cold.”
“Sure,” she said. “Come on, girl.”
She motioned ahead of them, and Xena ran on.
“So,” he said, as they followed the dog, “are you going to redecorate?”
“Sorry?”
“The house. You may have taken ownership, but it looks like Gordon still lives here. All those dramatic paintings. All that Gothic sensibility.”
“I like it,” she said. “It reminds me of him. I still miss him like crazy. At least I got to say goodbye the second time he died. And I know what you’re going to say. I know the Gordon in the Echo Stone was just a recording of his personality, but I don’t care.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything of the sort.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“But he left you his house, Valkyrie. I think it’s safe to assume that he expected you to update it a little. It might be nice for you to make your own mark.”
“Honestly, Skulduggery, I don’t even know if I’m staying.”
He stopped walking.
She turned to him. “The nightmares came back last night,” she said. “I woke up and I couldn’t breathe. A panic attack. I haven’t had a panic attack in … a while. I thought I was over them. I don’t think I can go on with this.”
“You said I had twenty-four hours.”
“You’ve had twenty-four hours.”
“I didn’t think you literally meant twenty-four hours. I thought it was more of a metaphor than an actual measurement of time.”
“Well, I meant twenty-four hours.”
“But we’re only getting started, Valkyrie. We’ve just had our first life-or-death encounter. This is how things go. It’s how we do what we do. We have a life-or-death encounter, we stay on it, and then at the end we win and walk away triumphant.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know if that’s going to work this time.”
“Stay with me. See it through. I need you, Valkyrie. And you need me.”
“Do I?”
He stepped closer. “You’d be lost without me.”
“I managed fine for five years.”
“You were just recharging your batteries. Now you’re ready for phase two.”
“I don’t think that’s right.”
“You gave me twenty-four hours. Give me another twelve.”
“You’ve actually had another twelve.”
“I mean give me another twelve starting from tomorrow morning. You can’t leave now. We’ve just had our first breakthrough.”
“I’m not up to it any more, Skulduggery. Come on, you must be able to see that. We were outmatched. Lethe pulled your jawbone off, for God’s sake.”
“Which was painful, but useful.”
“How the hell was that useful?”
“When I could no longer speak, he filled the silence. He told us what they were after.”
“He did?”
“To breathe life into the lifeless. That’s why Melior is so important to them – he’s the vital piece of this puzzle. That’s how he differs from other Vitakinetics – if I am interpreting Lethe correctly, the good doctor can actually bring someone back from death.”
Valkyrie frowned. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly.”
“So they’re … they’re going to resurrect someone? Like actually resurrect them? Who? This Princess of the Darklands woman?”
“Possibly.”
She frowned. “Do you know who she is?”
“No,” he said. “I know who she might be, but I don’t want to say just yet. Trust me on this. For the moment, we need to focus on Richard Melior. He’s the key. If we can stop the anti-Sanctuary at this early stage, then their plans for war will never be set in motion.”
“And if we find Melior, but Lethe and the others are still with him?”
“We’ll run away.”
She thought for a moment. “That’s honestly the best plan you’ve ever come up with.”
“I thought you’d like it. So you’ll stay with me? For just a little while longer? Give me tomorrow.”
“You know, you’re probably better off on your own.”
He tilted his head. “I disagree most vehemently.”
She sighed. “Tomorrow, then. One more day.”
“Excellent.” He swept his arm wide, inviting her to carry on walking. “How is China, by the way?”
“Um …”
“Valkyrie?”
“I’m just trying to find the right word for it. She was … regal.”
“Regal?”
“Worryingly regal.”
“You think the power may have gone to her head?”
“This is what she’s wanted all along, right? She was never satisfied with the other Grand Mages when they were in charge. She was always complaining about how they were blocking her attempts to do this or to do that … Now she’s in control. Finally.”
“And she doesn’t even have a Council of Elders to balance her out.”
“She doesn’t have a Council? Really?”
“Well,” Skulduggery said, “she has what she calls her Council of Advisors – two Grand Mages that she put in power herself, from England and Germany, and the American Grand Mage, who succeeded the old one after he tried to overthrow her.”
“So they just agree with whatever she says?”
“Essentially.”
“Is there anyone in a position to argue with her?”
“Not really.”
“Isn’t that hugely, amazingly dangerous? What do we do if she starts abusing her power?”
“We hope her better nature triumphs.”
Valkyrie frowned. “Does China have a better nature?”
“I suppose we’ll find out, won’t we?”
25
China Sorrows entered the chamber and immediately the three men rose. Two of them almost knocked their chairs over in their eagerness to offer due respect. The third was decidedly calmer. China took her seat at the north corner of the triangular table and waved at them to sit. The chamber was dark and bare, at odds with the extravagance that defined much of the rest of the High Sanctuary. She had no throne here. No mirrors. This was where the decisions were taken. This was where business was handled.
“The bank,” she said, directing the words to Grand Mage Aloysius Vespers of the English Sanctuary. “We’re behind schedule.”
Vespers, an overfed man with long white hair, gave a combination of a nod and a shrug. “We are, but we’re picking up speed. Co-ordinating between the Central Banks of the world was never going to be a straightforward process, yet I am happy to report that we have overcome significant hurdles in the last week alone.”
“And how close are we to a bank the citizens of Roarhaven can actually use?”
Vespers smiled, like he was delivering good news. “Two years. Maybe eighteen months.”
“You’ve had five years,” China said, and she watched Vespers’ smile falter. “We have the money – we have more than enough capital – but where has it languished since I first tasked you with this operation?”
“In, uh, in the First Bank of Roarhaven—”
“No,” said China. “The First Bank is a building. That’s all. It’s a building where we keep, relatively speaking, a very small amount of money. Cash for day-to-day requirements. No, Aloysius – I’m talking about the vast amounts of wealth that sorcerers have at their disposal, accrued over centuries. Where is that money?”
Vespers reddened. “Mortal banks, Supreme Mage.”
“Mortal banks,” China repeated. “Where our people risk constant exposure and the magical community at large in no way benefits from all of the investments they make. I asked you for a bank, based in Roarhaven, which all sorcerers around the world could use. A bank that is protected, private, but operates on a global scale. I asked you to slip it into existence beside all the other mortal banking institutions. Do you remember me asking you that?”
“Yes, Supreme Mage.”
“I didn’t want attention drawn to it. I didn’t want questions asked. I didn’t want opposition mounted. I asked of you impossible things, Aloysius, and what did you say?”
He swallowed. “I … I said I could deliver.”
“That’s right,” said China. “You did.”
“I will redouble my efforts.”
She pinned him with a look. “It troubles me that your efforts can be redoubled.”
Vespers shifted in his seat. “I … I only meant that a lot of my time is taken up with leading my own Council. But I will, of course, prioritise the matter from this point on.”
China kept her eyes on him until he started to wilt, then turned to the American. “Grand Mage Praetor, how are you faring with President Flanery?”
Gavin Praetor, a trim man with a distinctly feline quality to his movements, inclined his head slightly. “He is a boorish man. Arrogant. Narcissistic. Greedy for money and power. A thug in an expensive suit is how he’s being described by certain political commentators. In short, easily controlled and perfect for our needs.”
“So long as he gets his second term in the White House,” said China.
Praetor nodded. “I don’t think we have much to worry about, not with the changes he’s made to the election process. The Democrats can’t even settle on a candidate to run against him. Every senator, governor or mayor to put their name in the hat takes it out a few weeks later, their reputation in tatters. The media is wondering how Flanery finds out all their secrets.”
“So the rumours are true?”
“It would appear so,” said Praetor. “We don’t know who, yet, but we believe that Flanery has had a sorcerer of some description working for him since before he ran for office. In the past, he’s been able to push bills through Congress that ordinarily wouldn’t stand a chance. His opponents fall before him. Minds are being read, influenced – if not outright controlled.”
“We need to keep an eye on this,” China said. “So long as we have him on a leash, he’s useful. If he manages to slip that leash, he’s dangerous. I want this sorcerer named.”
“Of course, Supreme Mage.”
“Grand Mage Drang, you mentioned that something was troubling you?”
“Coldheart Prison,” said the German Grand Mage, the light catching the single scar that ran from the corner of his eye to the hinge of his jaw. “They have failed to check in.”
“So? They’ve missed reporting in before. It all depends where they are in the world and even what the weather is like.”
“With respect, Supreme Mage, I do not think it is that simple in this instance. The last of the safeguards have been removed only last week. For the first time, the prison is vulnerable.”
She sighed. “We’re all quite aware of your objections to the change in the prison’s status, Grand Mage. We’ve had this debate.”
Sturmun Drang raised an eyebrow fractionally. “There was no debate, Supreme Mage. You decided to take sole control of an international prison. You decided to systematically remove the multiple safeguards that nine separate Sanctuaries contributed to make Coldheart absolutely impenetrable.”
“It is still impenetrable.”
“No, Supreme Mage. Without the international safeguards, the prison’s defences have been halved.”
“Temporarily. New safeguards – better safeguards – are being implemented as we speak.”
“And for those three days, until those safeguards are online, the prison is vulnerable. And it has gone missing.”
China regarded him calmly. “I will have my people look into it. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“I hope you are right,” said Drang. “Otherwise three hundred and twenty-six highly dangerous sorcerers may be on the loose, and we are not doing anything about it.”
She looked at Vespers and Praetor. They smiled back, the way people do when they’re nervous and unsure and want to calm the waters after a disagreement. China felt no such urge to smile. That was the luxury that absolute power afforded her. “I believe you have someone waiting to meet me,” she said.
Vespers stood. “Indeed we do, Supreme Mage. Our apologies for the delays you’ve endured.” Walking quickly, he left the room, the door closing slowly behind him.
China noted the way Drang sighed. He had no time for religion, and even less for religious leaders.
The door burst open.
A large man strode in, dressed in frayed trousers and an old, stained shirt. He was muscled, his head shaven, and reminded China of her brother. This took her by surprise. The last time she’d seen this man he’d had long hair and a filthy beard. His eyes, though, glittered just as brightly as they had that day, decades ago.
Like her brother, Creed’s strides were long, and Vespers had to hurry to keep up.
“Supreme Mage,” said Praetor, “may we present Arch-Canon Damocles Creed.”
Creed stopped before her and bowed quickly.
She bowed in return. “Arch-Canon, so very good to see you again. My sincerest congratulations on your appointment.”
“If the gods will it, I obey,” Creed said. He’d lost his accent since the last time they’d spoken, and his voice was rougher, like he hadn’t used it in a long, long time. “Although Eliza Scorn could not have been happy with your ruling.”
China nodded sadly. “Unfortunately, I just couldn’t allow the Church of the Faceless to be led by someone as flawed as Eliza. In too many instances, she has allowed her personal agenda to interfere with the teachings of the religion I once held so dear to my own heart. If the Church truly is to flourish, then I, and the Grand Mages here with us, firmly believe that it can do so only under the leadership of a new Arch-Canon.”
“I have no love for Eliza Scorn,” Creed said, “but it’s as if she didn’t have any choice but to step aside.”
“I’m sure she understands, wherever she is. And her decision to leave meant that construction could be completed on the Dark Cathedral. Isn’t it a marvel?”
“Its magnificence is only surpassed by the opulence of the High Sanctuary.”
“We live in more enlightened times,” China said. “Our people can worship who, what and how they want to worship, so long as they do so in peace, and obey our laws.”
“A faithful people will always obey the laws of a faithful society,” said Creed.
China smiled. “Quite.”
“Supreme Mage, you must excuse me. I have travelled far, and I am tired, and there are already a hundred people standing at the steps of the Cathedral, waiting for guidance.”
“Of course,” said China. “Your flock needs you.”
He bowed again, and strode quickly away. She waited until he was gone.
“You’re sure about him?” she asked.
Vespers looked surprised. “Oh, yes, Supreme Mage. Damocles Creed was our ideal candidate from the very start. Devout, respected and strong. There is no one with a voice worth listening to who could possibly object to him replacing Eliza Scorn.”
“I seem to recall objecting,” Drang said.
Vespers allowed himself a wry smile. “My apologies, Grand Mage. I discounted the atheists among us.”
“We’ve avoided considerable controversy with Creed,” Praetor said. “Holding the Cathedral ransom while we forced Scorn out was a risky move, especially with how quickly the Church is growing here.”
China ran her tongue slowly along the back of her teeth. Her brother had once told her, during one of the many conversations they’d had about her faith, that religion was a virus. It spread fastest when the conditions were right. Endorsing the Church and building the Dark Cathedral was China’s way of controlling that virus, of directing it and containing it. Once she could keep an eye on it, she could stamp it out if needed.
“We’re done for the day,” she said. “You’re dismissed.”
Vespers and Praetor offered her their usual gratitude and praise. Drang merely nodded. Then they left the room. Her life consisted of meetings, both long and short, and she was always grateful for the short ones.
She walked to her apartment, and slipped her chain of office on to the blank-faced bust set into the alcove beside the door. A pretty piece of jewellery, and expensive, though completely meaningless. She’d had it made just to have something different from the brooches that other Grand Mages wore. A token of power, that’s all it was, but China had learned a long time ago that power perceived is power nonetheless. Tokens were important.
She undressed and slipped her robe on. It was late, and she was tired, but there was still work to be done. The activation of a sigil and the fireplace roared to life. She settled into her favourite armchair, her feet tucked under her, and began to read the topmost file that Tipstaff had left for her. For every advantage that power had brought, it had delivered to her ten times more pressures and responsibilities. The burden of leadership, she had discovered, was a heavy one.
Sleep would have to wait.
