Читать книгу: «Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 10 - 12», страница 15
“OK, slick,” Temper said. “I believe you. Proceed with the rescuing.”
Omen couldn’t move for a moment. Then he nodded. When that didn’t do anything, he looked around. The solution didn’t jump out at him so he chewed his lip.
“Kid?” Temper said.
“Do you think they have a spare key, maybe, hidden somewhere?” Omen asked. “Behind a loose brick or something?”
“Probably not.”
“OK. That’s unfortunate. I’m not sure how I’m going to rescue you, then.”
Temper scratched his stubble. “Listen to me, you don’t need to. You just have to call Skulduggery and tell him what’s going on.”
“My phone doesn’t work in here. I’ll have to go outside and call him. Do you know where the exit is?”
“You have no idea where we are, do you? We’re on a floating island. Going outside here means dropping into the ocean.”
“Oh.”
Temper worked his jaw back and forth, and Omen could tell he was annoyed. “Slick, you’re going to have to find a way to open this door, OK? I might be the one in the cell, but we’re both trapped here. You get me out, I find a way to get us off this rock. Think you can do that?”
Omen nodded. “No.”
Temper frowned. “No?”
“I can’t do any of that stuff,” Omen blurted. “I can’t rescue you. I don’t know why I said I could. I just wanted to impress you. You seem cool and I want to be cool, too, so I said it, but I’ll make a mess of it. I’m already making a mess of it. My brother does the rescuing, not me. I haven’t had the practice. I don’t have the mindset. My uncle took me aside once and told me I was the worst. He didn’t even specify what I was the worst at. I think he just meant in general.”
“Your uncle sounds like a piece of work, but you’ve got to get past that. Is he here right now? No. You are. You are here and you can do this.”
“I can do this.”
“No, you can’t,” said Immolation Joe.
“Ignore him,” said Temper. “You can do this.”
Omen bit his lip. “What if they see me?”
“They’ll probably kill you. You ever have someone try to kill you before?”
“Yes, actually. This morning.”
“I knew it, just by looking at you. You’ve stared death in the face. That’s good. I have people trying to kill me all the time. Getting captured is actually kind of a luxury. What’s your name again?”
“Omen.”
Temper nodded. “OK, Omen, find a way to get me out of here. I’m counting on you.”
Omen didn’t know whether he should salute or not, so he just gave a small wave and hurried round the corner. The first thing he saw was a control panel on the wall. He stepped backwards.
“There’s a panel here,” he said. “Lots of numbered buttons with little lights, but only two lights are on. You think they open the cells?”
“I knew I could count on you,” said Temper. “Get me out of here, Omen.”
Grinning, Omen jabbed at one of the buttons and the corresponding light went off as he heard a click. He looked back as the cell door swung open, and Immolation Joe stepped out.
“Aw,” said Omen.
Immolation Joe clicked his fingers a few times. Sparks flew. Then his hands burst into flame. “Yesssss …” he said, gazing at the fire like he was in love.
“Slick,” said Temper.
Omen jabbed at the second button and Temper sprang out of his cell, his knee crashing into Immolation Joe’s chest. The convict reeled backwards and Temper slammed the door shut. It clicked and immediately the flames died in Joe’s hands.
“I’ll kill you!” Immolation Joe screamed, grasping for them between the bars. “I’ll kill you both!”
Temper ignored him, his eyes closed, savouring the magic that was flooding back into his system. Then he looked at Omen again and smiled, and held out his hand. “Nice going.”
They shook.
“Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Smiling awkwardly at Immolation Joe, Omen followed Temper to a set of metal stairs. They went down. Footsteps approached and they flattened themselves against the wall. A man walked by. Didn’t see them. When he was gone, they continued onwards, passing through a heavy door that stood open. Leaving the cellblocks behind them, they jogged to the gate at the far end of an unmanned security checkpoint. There were about a dozen stairs beyond it, concrete, and they climbed them and found themselves in a large chamber with a desk and huge doors – the way out.
Omen’s joy was somewhat diminished by the sight of Lethe standing there before them.
37
“I thought we had something,” Lethe said, strolling forward. “But the first chance you get to escape you just grab it with both hands, don’t you?”
“It’d never have worked between us,” Temper said, backing up and keeping Omen behind him. “I’m too clingy.”
Even though he couldn’t see Lethe’s eyes, Omen knew the man was looking at him.
“And this must be the spy from the school,” Lethe said. “Skulduggery Pleasant’s secret weapon. I confess, I haven’t a clue who you are, but I don’t think it matters. Your career has come to a sharp and sudden stop, little spy.”
“Really?” Temper asked. “You’re going to kill him? The kid doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t even know where he is right now. Let him go. I’ll take you on, I’ll give you a fight. But let him go, what do you say?”
“You’ll give me a fight if I allow it,” Lethe said, “which I won’t. The only reason we haven’t killed you already is that we haven’t got around to it. I’m going to rectify that in a moment. The little spy can either watch and then die, or get the dying over with now. Little spy, which do you choose?”
“I … um … I’ll watch Temper die first, please,” said Omen.
“Thanks, slick,” Temper murmured, then addressed Lethe. “May I suggest we hurry this along? My rescue team will be here shortly.”
“You mean to say it hasn’t arrived already?”
Temper laughed. “You think the kid here is my rescue team? He’s just a cheeky little guy who sneaked out past his curfew. No, no – my rescue team is comprised of people you’ll probably have heard of. You want to know who’s coming next?”
“I’m all ears.”
Temper grinned. “Skulduggery Pleasant, Valkyrie Cain and a whole horde of Cleavers.”
“That so?”
“It is. Coming straight here.”
“My, my,” said Lethe. “Sounds like I’m in trouble.”
“Now, you’re good,” Temper said, “I’m not denying that. But Skulduggery? Skulduggery is—”
“Ours,” said Lethe. “Skulduggery is ours, Mr Fray. You’ve been out of the loop, so I’m going to break this to you gently. My colleague, Mr Smoke, came into contact with your skeletal friend. Physical contact. And you know what happens once my colleague, Mr Smoke, comes into physical contact with someone, don’t you? You know that first-hand, am I correct?”
Temper’s grin faded. “Bull.”
“Not bull, Mr Fray.”
“Smoke turned me, but he can’t turn Skulduggery. That stuff doesn’t work on him. His mind can’t be read, his—”
“My colleague’s ability has nothing to do with the mind, Mr Fray, and it’s got everything to do with the soul. So I am in the unfortunate position of being the one to tell you that not only is your friend no longer your friend, but that this fictitious rescue team you have imagined coming to free you is … Well, it’s just not. So I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in.”
Temper didn’t say anything in response.
“Has it sunk in yet?” Lethe asked. “I think it has. By the look on your face, I think it has. Which brings us back to the act of killing you both. Now, I forget – little spy, did you say you wanted to die before or after Mr Fray here?”
“After,” Omen said, his mouth dry.
“That’s right,” said Lethe, clicking his fingers. “That’s right. Thank you. I get confused sometimes.”
He lunged and Temper grabbed him, turned him, tried to trip him, but Lethe buckled his leg and flipped Temper over his hip. For a moment, Lethe’s back was to Omen, and all of a sudden Omen was throwing himself on to him. Everything he’d ever known about fighting flushed from his mind and he hung on, clung on, eyes wide with panic, and then Lethe twisted and hit him and Omen was tumbling down the concrete steps.
He sprawled on to the ground, the right side of his face throbbing numbly. He turned his head. From his vantage point, he could see Lethe and Temper from the chests up. The fight flowed quickly. Temper was not winning.
He heard a woman laugh. “Oh, oh!” came Razzia’s voice. “Can I have a go? Can I, please?”
Lethe sounded amused. “By all means, Razzia. Sharing is caring, after all.” He wrapped Temper up in a choke, then threw him, and followed him out of sight.
Omen got up. Rubbed his knee and his face. Every atom in his body wanted to hide, but they’d find him. Of course they would. And Temper Fray was on his side. He couldn’t abandon him. There was a code about these things. Omen didn’t know what it was, exactly, but he knew there was one.
Keeping low, he crept up the stairs. The sounds reminded him of the arena back home, when his brother faced a queue of fighters and wouldn’t be allowed to rest until the clock ran out. As a kid, Omen had closed his eyes to most of it, but the sounds had got into his head. Grunts. Cries. Knuckles striking flesh. Bodies going down.
He came level with the top of the stairs, watched Temper fight Razzia. Temper was tired, and she was playing with him. Omen didn’t know what magical discipline Temper had studied, but, if he didn’t use his magic now, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Lethe circled them both, watching. Nero was there, too, standing with his back to Omen, calling out the occasional bit of advice that Razzia would ignore. Nero wasn’t wearing his jacket, which meant the knife, sheathed on his belt, was plainly visible.
There was no other choice. The realisation hit Omen like a slap and his guts turned cold and plummeted somewhere deep and dark, leaving a hollow space where only shivers lived. No other choice but to do something stupid. It was this or never escape. This or die here.
Omen scuttled up the last few steps, counted to three and burst forward.
He slammed into Nero and they went tumbling over each other, Omen going for the knife, his fingertips finding the handle and then losing it again. With his other hand, he kept a tight grip of Nero’s shirt. He couldn’t let go. If he let go and Nero teleported away, he was lost.
They came to a stop. The knife was in Omen’s hand, the blade jammed against Nero’s throat.
“Sloppy,” said Lethe, but he didn’t run in to haul Omen off. He didn’t move. Razzia didn’t move, either. Temper collapsed.
Omen badly needed some water. His throat was parched and his lips were dry. His tongue felt too heavy to form words.
From beneath him, Nero said calmly, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Anger flashed and Omen came up to one knee, digging the knife in a little deeper. He could talk fine now. “You’re going to let us go,” he said, with a hell of a lot more confidence than he felt. “If anyone tries anything, I’ll kill him.”
Lethe folded his arms. “You will? Really? I don’t know. Razzia, what do you think? He look like a killer to you?”
Razzia jumped up and down. “Ooh, I hope so! Do it! Do it, kid! It’s only Nero! If he carks it, we can grow another one!”
Lethe looked at her. “Actually, we can’t.”
Razzia stopped jumping. “We didn’t grow him in a tube? Strewth, I thought he was one of those genetic experiments I keep hearing about. With the hair and all.” She shrugged. “Kill him anyway, kid. Cut his throat and join the club.”
“Hey,” Nero said loudly. “Hey! Come on! Let’s not antagonise the kid, all right? Let’s all be cool here.”
“Of course,” Lethe said, sauntering forward. “You’re right, Nero. Of course you are. Let’s be cool.”
“Stop walking,” said Omen.
Lethe ignored him. “We’ll all be cool. Nobody has to hurt anybody. Let’s just shake hands and part as friends, what do you say?”
Temper groaned, and rolled on to all fours. “He takes another step, you start cutting, you hear me?”
“The boy’s not going to cut,” said Lethe. “He’s not a killer. He’s not a murderer.”
“I’m scared and I’m trapped and you’re gonna kill me,” Omen countered. “I will do whatever I have to.”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Nero said quickly, “because Lethe is going to stop walking right goddamn now. Aren’t you, Lethe? Lethe?”
Lethe’s saunter, as calm and unhurried as any saunter Omen had ever seen, came to a slow and reluctant stop. He sighed. “Fine. Look at me. Look at how still I’m standing.”
“Temper, come over here,” Omen said. He was sweating. Perspiration ran down his face, down the back of his collar. He could feel how damp his armpits were. The knife. The knife was slippery; he wasn’t sure that it’d stay in his hand if he had to stab, but he dared not adjust his grip.
Temper got up and limped over. It was like he was being slow on purpose. Omen had to bite back harsh words. He could feel the panic beneath his skin. It jittered and bubbled and boiled.
Finally – finally – Temper was crouching beside him, one hand on Omen’s shoulder, one hand on Nero’s arm. “All right then,” he said, taking control of the situation, “Nero here is going to teleport us back to Roarhaven. You hear that, Nero? Right into the middle of Meritorious Square. If you try something stupid, like dumping us off the edge of a volcano, Omen here will kill you as his final act, won’t you, Omen?”
“Yes, I will,” Omen said, trembling so badly that the blade nicked Nero’s skin. If the shakes got any worse, the knife was liable to fly out of his hand before he got a chance to use it.
“Meritorious Square,” Nero repeated. “All right. Just say when.”
“None of this means anything,” Lethe said. “So you escape – so what? You’ve already told us everything you know, which was a paltry amount to begin with. At this stage, you’re worthless to us. This escape means nothing.”
“First you hurt my body,” Temper said. “Then you hurt my feelings. I know which will leave the deeper scar. Nero? Mush.”
Bright sun glared from a blue sky with no clouds and the sudden rush of cold air and the noise of Roarhaven all around them and Omen flinched and Nero shoved him away, twisting from Temper’s grip and vanishing.
People were glancing at them. Two Cleavers were running over.
“You did good, slick,” Temper said, lying on his back and looking up at the sky. “You did good.”
Omen looked at the knife for a moment, then dropped it and managed a smile.
His first rescue mission.
38
“This is not my first rescue mission,” Sebastian whispered to Bennet as they crouched around the corner from the tiny house. “Let me go in first. I’ll clear the room of hostiles. When I give you the all-clear, you come in. Understand?”
Bennet nodded. He was visibly shaking. A quick peek through the dirty window had shown them Odetta sitting at a table, a Hollow Man standing right behind her. They had no idea how many other Hollow Men might be in there with them.
Sebastian patted Bennet on the shoulder. He felt an urge to repeat his instructions, but decided against it. Bennet was a grown man, not a child.
Keeping low, Sebastian jogged to the front door. He took a deep breath to steady himself and then kicked, the wood splintering beneath his boot, the door crashing open, and then Bennet lunged past him, pulling his gun from his pocket. There was a scream. Sebastian ran in, but saw Odetta throwing herself in front of the Hollow Man.
“Don’t!” she cried.
Bennet kept shifting his aim. “I can’t … Sweetheart, if you don’t move out of the way, I can’t shoot it.”
“He’s not an it!” Odetta said. “His name is Conrad!”
Bennet hesitated. “I’m sorry?”
“Excuse me,” Sebastian said, satisfied that there were no other Hollow Men in the building, “but what exactly is going on here?”
“We’re in love!” Odetta said.
“Yes, we are,” said Bennet.
“Not me and you!” Odetta said, almost angrily. “We! We are in love!”
Bennet looked at his wife and the Hollow Man. “I’m missing something here.”
“I … I think she’s leaving you,” said Sebastian. “I think she wants to spend the rest of her life with it. Sorry. Him. What’s his name again?”
“Conrad,” said Odetta.
Bennet laughed. Then his laugh failed and he lowered the gun. “What?”
“It’s true,” Odetta said. “I’m so sorry, Bennet. I didn’t want you to find out this way, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I got scared. I thought just walking away would be the best thing, but then I knew you’d be worrying, so I had one of Conrad’s friends deliver that message … I suppose it’s good, that you’re here. We can finally talk about it.”
“You’re … in love with … with that?”
“With him,” Sebastian corrected.
“But he’s a Hollow Man,” Bennet said. “He’s made of paper. I don’t get how this is remotely possible?” Tears brimmed. The gun fell to the floor. “You’re leaving me?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You’re leaving me for a man made out of paper?”
Odetta wept. “Please don’t be nasty,” she said.
“But we’re married. Why are you leaving me? You can’t leave me – we’re married. What about our son?”
“Kase knows. He understands.”
“But we were going to have more children. We talked about it, about giving Kase a little brother or sister.”
“He can still have that. But you won’t be the father.”
“Odetta, come on,” Bennet said, moving forward. “Be reasonable. You can’t have children with a Hollow Man.”
“He has a name!” Odetta said, her anger rising again.
“This is ridiculous! The only way you could have children with it is if they’re on a paper chain!”
“How dare you!”
“Is that what you want, Odetta? You want paper-chain children? Is that it? You want origami kids?”
Odetta punched Bennet so hard his knees buckled and he fell.
“Don’t say nasty things!” Odetta shouted. “You know why I fell in love with him? Because he listens! You say nasty things whenever you get upset! You’re a nasty man! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it any more!”
“But … but I love you …” Bennet said, struggling to get up.
“The only person you love is Darquesse,” Odetta spat. “And that is sick beyond reason! There is something seriously wrong with you if you worship that monster! She murdered over a thousand people! How can you talk about her like she’s this majestic, heavenly creature when she’s killed so many? You, you and your sick friends, there’s something wrong with you all!”
Sebastian hesitated, then helped Bennet to his feet. The man felt like kindling in his hands.
“Odetta …”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Odetta said. “And I think you should move out. I’ll be back on Sunday. You better not be there.”
“Can we … can we just talk about it?”
“Talking to you has never got me anywhere,” Odetta said. “Go home now, Bennet. The next time I talk to you, I’ll be divorcing you.”
“No, no, please …”
“I’m going to say this once and once only, so open your ears and listen to it. It’s only one word. Even you can absorb one word. Ready? Here it comes.”
“No. Don’t. Please. Who else will love me?”
She leaned in. “Goodbye.”
39
“Hello.”
His voice. Deep, and smooth. Like velvet.
Valkyrie sat hunched over on the bed, her phone to her ear. Elsewhere in the clinic, beyond her room, people were talking and machines were beeping, but in here Valkyrie was trembling. Her whole body shook.
“I know you’re there,” he said. “I can hear you breathing.”
She stared at the wall.
“That’s OK,” he said. “You don’t have to talk. I can do the talking for both of us. You’re probably feeling very alone right now. This is understandable. You’re afraid and you’re confused and you’re panicking.”
“It fades,” she managed to say.
“I’m sorry? What was that?”
“Smoke’s corruption,” she said. “It fades away after forty-eight hours.”
“That’s what you’re hanging on to? That’s what you’re pinning your hopes to? Valkyrie, whatever makes you think that I would want this to wear off?”
“Because you’re not yourself.”
“This doesn’t change who I am. I’m still me, Valkyrie. I’m just a more efficient version of me. I’ve left behind so many little rules.”
She shook her head. “Smoke controls you. You’re a slave.”
“I could see how you would think that, but I’m afraid you’d be wrong. The only time in my life, such as it is, when I’ve felt more liberated than I am right now is when I wore armour. You should try this. You should join us. I’m sure you’d be a boon to the anti-Sanctuary.”
“Help us,” she said. “Lethe … Smoke … they think you’re on their side.”
“I am on their side.”
“I don’t … I don’t believe that.”
“Yes, you do. Can I ask you something? Are you worried about your family? Are you worried that I’m going to kill your dog? Or your sister?”
“No,” she said.
“Really? Are you being honest?”
“You won’t go after my family or my dog. You don’t want me wasting my time worrying about the things I love. You want me focused.”
“Yes,” said Skulduggery. “Yes. You know me well, Valkyrie. I’m going to have fun with you. Your death … it isn’t going to be quick. And your life isn’t going to be painless. From this point until the end, it’s going to be … excruciating.”
She hung up.
