Last Stand of Dead Men

The thin man staggered.

Ghastly hit him again, and again, those battering rams crunching into the thin man’s ribs enough times to make him cover up, and then Ghastly went for the head. The thin man was too used to being the strongest person in the room. He’d never bothered to learn to fight. Ghastly went for the chin and then punched at the knee, and while the thin man was trying to work out what the hell was happening he snapped his palms against the air and the space between them rippled, and the thin man flew backwards.

Ghastly reached for the fallen sub-machine gun, but a shadow lashed at him, curled round his wrist and yanked him off his feet. He rolled, glimpsed Adrasdos running at him, shadows pouring from something she was holding. He lunged at her and they went down. She cracked an elbow into his nose and his vision went blurry. He found her right hand, keeping the weapon away from him as they rolled. He couldn’t even see what it was. It looked like a knife handle.

Adrasdos wriggled out from underneath him, went to kick him as she got to her feet, but he grabbed her foot, held it as he stood. The shadows writhed round the knife handle, grouping together to form a machete. She swung and he stumbled, letting go of her, barely dodging the black blade. The more shadows that writhed, the longer the blade got, and it nicked his shoulder and cut his arm and it was going to end up in his head if he didn’t stop this. She swung and he stepped in, trapped her arm under his and fired a right cross into her jaw. She collapsed, the blade of shadows melting away as the handle skittered across the floor.

Sult was pressing the last of the explosives against the Accelerator when Ghastly returned to the room.

“Not one more step,” the American said, holding out a grey box. His thumb rested against the silver switch. “There are enough explosives in this room to take out this machine five times over. You do not want to make me twitch.”

Ghastly kept his hands down by his sides. “We haven’t even completed our study of the Accelerator,” he said. “We know it supercharges sorcerers, we know it’s a source of energy, but we don’t know how to properly harness it yet. We don’t know what else it can do. And you want to destroy it?”

“I admit this sounds incredibly childish,” said Sult, “but if we can’t have it, then you can’t, either. It’s too unpredictable. And, let’s face it, the supercharged sorcerer aspect would give you an unfair advantage if hostilities were to give way to all-out war.”

Ghastly laughed. “Practically every Sanctuary in the world, apart from those in Africa and Australia, is on your side – and you want to talk to me about unfair advantages? We’re outnumbered so greatly that it’s not even worth calculating.”

“This is very true,” said Sult. “So let the Supreme Council come in. Form a partnership. You can still run your country as normal, for the most part. We’ll just be here to ensure that you’re making the right decisions.”

“I seem to remember that we’ve had this discussion before. It didn’t work out for either of us.”

“Sadly, I must agree with you there.”

“If you flick that switch, you could start a war.”

“Only if they have proof it was me.”

“Still plan to kill me, do you? You brought four sorcerers with you and they all have concussions. I’d say your plans are foiled – unless, of course, you’re planning on doing it yourself …?”

Sult smiled, and laid the grey box on the floor. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Me, too,” said Ghastly, and took the gun from his pocket and fired. He hit Sult twice in the chest and Sult dropped.

The grey box floated to Ghastly’s free hand, but before he closed his fingers around it he glanced at the silenced pistols at his feet, the ones he’d taken from their holsters. Only two of them. But there were three when he’d—

The bullet hit him in the shoulder and Ghastly spun, stumbled, fell, the grey box falling. The harsh whisper of the missing silenced pistol accompanied another bullet that whistled by his ear and now Ghastly was returning fire, his gun barking loudly in the confined space of the room. Sult dived for cover and Ghastly scurried backwards, firing all the time. Sult kept moving. Ghastly ran out of bullets and Sult popped up and the gun shot from Ghastly’s hand into Sult’s face. Sult staggered, blood pumping from the cut on his forehead.

Ghastly used the air to launch himself across the room. They collided. Sult threw an elbow and brought his gun up. Ghastly grabbed his wrist and the gun barrel, twisted the gun from Sult’s grip and slammed it into his face. Sult punched Ghastly’s shoulder, and the pain from the bullet wound lanced through him. He dropped the gun and almost sank to his knees. Sult hit his shoulder again and the world darkened, and then an elbow hurtled towards him and the dark world tilted and spun. The ground bounced into his side and he rolled against it, pushed away from it, everything moving too fast with the sound muted.

Sult hit him, again and again. Ghastly’s left arm went numb. His right was OK, so he threw it, caught Sult just as he was coming in with another shot. It wasn’t perfect but it’d do. Ghastly fired another into the ribs, but felt the body armour beneath Sult’s shirt. Now Sult was pushing against him, tangling his legs, and they fell with Sult on top. The blood from his forehead splashed on to Ghastly’s cheek. Two punches came down, but Ghastly moved his head just like his mother had taught him all those years ago. One of the punches clipped his ear. The other missed altogether, hit the ground instead. Sult cursed in pain, pulled his hand back, and Ghastly heaved him sideways.

They wrestled there for a moment. Ghastly hung on and didn’t let go. Again, just like his mother had taught him.

When you’re rocked, hang on for dear life until you can see straight. Then let go and let him have it.

Ghastly pushed Sult away and they got to their feet at the same time. The world spun, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been. Keeping his left arm tight to his side, Ghastly whipped out a right jab, followed it with another, feinted with a third and went low with a hook that lifted Sult. Gasping, Sult backed off, his knees shaky, holding his hands out to ward off Ghastly as he closed in.

Sult came to a stop by stepping on the grey box. His heel crunched down on the silver switch. There was a small device attached to the explosives on the Accelerator. It beeped.

Sult’s eyes widened.

The device beeped again and again and faster and faster and now it was one long continuous beep and Ghastly reached out with the air and yanked Sult off his feet. The moment Sult passed him, Ghastly pressed both hands against the air to form a shield and then the room was filled with fire and thunder and the shockwave hit the shield and Ghastly was launched backwards into the corridor. Sult hit the wall and Ghastly hit Sult and they collapsed in a tangle and Ghastly sprawled to a stop.

Eyes blinking. Eyes. Blinking.

Alarms. Shouts.

Alarms.

Hands gripping him, pulling him up, Ghastly sitting now, smoke everywhere. People and Cleavers. Ravel, in front of him, shaking him, speaking words.

“—hear me? Ghastly? Can you hear me? I need a doctor over here! My friend’s a vegetable!”

Ghastly felt his mouth twitch into a smile.

“Oh, good,” said Ravel. “He’s not completely gone. Where’s all this blood coming from? Ah, he’s been shot. Of course he has. Typical.”

Doctor Synecdoche hurried over, knelt by him, pressed something against his wound. “Elder Bespoke,” she said, “can you hear me? Can you tell me what day it is?”

“I don’t know,” Ghastly mumbled, “I’m sorry …”

“We need to get him to my lab as quickly as possible,” said Synecdoche. “He needs a CAT scan and a—”

Ghastly shook his head. “No, I mean, I don’t actually know what day it is. It was easier keeping track of days when I had my shop, but ever since I became an Elder …”

“The days become a blur,” finished Ravel, nodding. “He’s OK, Doc. I’ve seen him walk away from bigger traumas than this. Help me get him standing.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Grand Mage,” said Synecdoche. “He could still be suffering from—”

Ravel sighed, grabbed Ghastly’s right arm and pulled him to his feet. “See?” he said while Synecdoche quietly freaked out. “Not a bother on him. Although you should probably call round to see him later for some private consultation.”

Ghastly did his best to smile at her. “Doctor, thank you, I’ll make my way to the Medical Wing in a moment. Maybe you could treat some of our prisoners while you’re here?”

“Of course, Elder Bespoke,” she said, and was immediately lost in the crowd of Sanctuary personnel.

“She likes you,” Ravel whispered.

“Do not start,” Ghastly responded. He turned as Sult was hauled to his feet by a pair of Cleavers, his hands shackled behind his back.

“Bernard Sult,” said Ravel. “I take it you’re responsible for this mess?”

Sult glared at them both. “I have Level 4 mindguards in place. We all do. Your Sensitives will get nothing from us.”

“We don’t really need anything,” said Ravel. “The fact that you’ve been caught red-handed trying to destroy Sanctuary property will be enough of an embarrassment to the Supreme Council, believe me.”

The defiance in Sult’s eyes diminished somewhat. “What do you mean,” he said, “trying to destroy?”

Ghastly frowned, too. “The Accelerator is salvageable after a blast like that?”

“See for yourselves,” Ravel said.

Ghastly limped to the doorway and Sult came after him, his arms held by the Cleavers. Sanctuary Elementals worked to clear the acrid smoke from the room. The Accelerator stood tall and proud where it had always been. A little scorched, maybe, but definitely in one piece. One of the Elementals placed a hand to the scorch mark and wiped it clean. Just a little soot. Astonishing.

“When they built it,” Ravel said from behind them, “they built it to last.”

o see such a thing as shock register on the face of the most beautiful woman in the world was a rare treat, and Valkyrie found herself enjoying it more than she really should have. China Sorrows’ pale blue eyes were wide and her perfect lips were parted. Her hair, black as sin and just as luxuriant, was longer than Valkyrie remembered. She wore a bathrobe, silk, tied with a sash.

“Hi,” said Valkyrie.

China looked at her for a few more moments. “Hello, Valkyrie,” she said at last, composure quietly regained. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you on my doorstep. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve been meaning to stop by. You told me about this place ages ago, mentioned all the horses. It’s beautiful around here.”

“My refuge,” said China. “I run to my country house to lick my wounds and bathe in self-pity. Is that … is that your car?”

Valkyrie glanced back at the Oompa-Loompa. “Yep. Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is remarkably orange. Would you like to come in?”

China stepped to one side, and Valkyrie passed through. A marble staircase swept from a marble floor. Dark paintings in Gothic frames hung from the walls. Twisted sculptures sat on bone-white plinths. Through the windows the old stone yard was in full view, with the horses in their stables and, beyond them, the fields and meadows and the forest that bordered the land.

China led her into a large room with a rich carpet and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that took up an entire wall. There was an old-fashioned writing desk that Valkyrie barely got a glance at before China closed the lid, and at China’s invitation Valkyrie dutifully sat.

“Can I get you anything?” China asked. “Tea or coffee?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

China sat in the armchair opposite and crossed her legs. Her feet were bare. “What can I do for you?” she asked, but Valkyrie wasn’t ready to answer that. Not yet.

“Impressive bookcase,” she said instead. “Not as impressive as the library, but …”

“But then I have far fewer books,” finished China. “Rebuilding my collection will take time, I’m afraid. Rebuilding it completely will be impossible – some of the works lost were truly one of a kind. Irreplaceable. The truly valuable books, of course, were kept here and not in the library, so that is a blessing, I suppose.”

“Are you going to reopen?”

“I think not. As I said, I’ve been feeling very sorry for myself. My library was frequented by many patrons whom I viewed as loyal – and yet, when Eliza Scorn burned it to the ground, not one of them came to my aid. Don’t get me wrong, Valkyrie – I am quite used to being a pariah. I just didn’t think it would happen again quite so soon.”

“So you’re not joking, then? You really have been spending all this time feeling sorry for yourself?”

A smile, as sad as it was faint. “Not all this time. I spent a few days recovering from my injuries. The physical wounds healed and left not a bruise. The injury I suffered to my pride, however … well. Once I was back on my feet, I had nothing but revenge in mind, so I began preparing.”

“And what happened?”

“Eliza is nothing if not thorough. My holdings in America, in Switzerland, in Italy … all destroyed. My employees, the ones who haven’t died in terribly suspicious accidents, are missing. The mortal men and women who tend to my horses are the only ones left unharmed. I am alone, Valkyrie. Without allies, without friends.”

“I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. This is exactly how it should be. Nothing less than what I deserve after the things I’ve done.”

“What about your assistant? The man with the bow tie?”

“Dead, the poor man. Strangled.”

“Oh, China …”

China waved her hand dismissively. “I am allowed to pity myself, Valkyrie. You are not. So tell me how you have been.”

“You don’t know?”

“These days I only hear whispers about the impending war between the Sanctuaries – nothing fun. My sources and informants now report to Eliza and her Church of the Faceless. I have been deprived.”

Valkyrie gave a little shrug. “Well, I’m doing grand. I’m doing OK. So is Skulduggery. We visited an alternate reality, did you hear that?”

China raised an eyebrow. “When was this?”

“Just a few months ago, around the beginning of May.”

“Weren’t you dealing with Argeddion back then?”

“This was part of it.”

“You have been busy. What was it like, this alternate reality?”

“Horrible,” said Valkyrie. “Mevolent is still alive over there, and from what I saw he basically rules the world. Mortals are slaves. Serpine’s still alive, too. So was Vengeous – until he died.”

China sat forward. “Oh, you lucky thing. That must have been astonishing.”

“We met you over there.”

China clapped her hands and laughed with delight. “Another me! Tell me, what was I like?”

“You led the Resistance.”

“I did? Me? I’m sorry, I’m one of the heroes over there?”

“You were,” said Valkyrie. “Kind of. You betrayed us a few times, and then you died.”

China’s face fell, and she sat back. “Typical. Who killed me?”

“Serpine.”

“That sneaky little toerag.” She went quiet for a moment, then looked up. “My brother?”

Valkyrie shook her head. “Mevolent had killed him a long time ago.”

“Dead in both dimensions, then. That’s unfortunate. How did Skulduggery handle talking to me?”

“Honestly? He was fine. He got on with the job.”

“And what is his attitude towards me? This me, I mean. Not that me.”

“His attitude towards you is … unknown. We don’t talk about you much. He doesn’t insult you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Insults are one of the lesser things to worry me, my dear. So are you going to tell why you’ve visited, or are we going to keep skipping around it?”

“Oh, yes, of course. We’re after a guy that nobody can quite remember. They don’t remember his name, his face, anything about who he is. Do you know anyone who could make you forget who they were?”

“I know a few Sensitives who could dislodge some things in your memory if given enough time.”

“No, I get the feeling this is an instant thing. Like, you’re talking to him and then you walk away and you can’t quite remember who he was.”

“Interesting,” said China. “There is a German mage, a Sensitive again, whom you forget the moment you lose sight of her. Myosotis Terra.”

“Never heard of her.”

“The only other thing I can think of is a type of amethyst crystal with certain psychic properties. I’m sure if treated correctly it could induce that level of amnesia. I’d need my books to make sure but, unfortunately, I no longer have them.”

“So it’s not a discipline of magic, then? Anyone who holds that crystal could be the person we’re looking for?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Valkyrie sagged. “Wonderful. Any ideas where a person might find such a crystal?”

“Most of them have been locked carefully away. There used to be one in the Repository of the old Sanctuary, if I remember correctly. It might even have survived the relocation to Roarhaven.”

“I see. Well, thank you, China. That’s very helpful.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” China said, smiling. “Now then, what’s the real reason you’re here?”

“Sorry? What do you …?”

At China’s raised eyebrow, Valkyrie faltered, then took a deep breath, and settled back. “I need advice.”

“On what subject?”

“My future.”

China waited for Valkyrie to continue.

“My parents expect me to go to college. I did really well in the exams – or rather, my reflection did really well – and now I have all these offers from places I don’t want to go to. I thought once school was over I wouldn’t have to run around like this any more. I have everything that Gordon left me so I don’t have to do anything, but then my folks are going to think I’m just taking the easy way out.”

China nodded. “And you’ve come to me because obviously I know your parents really well.”

Valkyrie had to smile. “I came to you because Skulduggery’s being weird about it. I don’t think he wants to influence me one way or the other.”

“That’s probably wise. Where you go from here should be your decision and yours alone.”

“But this is what I want,” Valkyrie said. “I want to keep working for the Sanctuary and doing everything we’ve been doing. This is where I belong. But at the same time, I don’t want to end up like every other sorcerer.”

“And how do we end up?”

“Isolated. I don’t want to cut myself off from ordinary people. I don’t see why I should have to.”

China smiled sadly. “It’s inevitable, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t accept that.”

“They have a name for it these days. They have a name for everything these days. They call it Second Lifetime Syndrome, and it happens when a sorcerer watches her family and friends age and die around her. You’ll latch on to other mages from that moment on, because what’s the point of going through all that pain again? Valkyrie, there are some stark realities you have to face. You’re going to look the way you do for the next eighty years. In two hundred years, you’ll look twenty-five. You won’t be able to form attachments to mortals. They will start to notice something is different about you when they’re lined and saggy and you’re still young and perky. You’re going to have to say goodbye to your parents before they start to ask questions.”

“Or I … I could just tell them.”

The smile left China’s lips. “That is never advisable.”

“Why not? They wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Your job as a sorcerer is to protect them from the truth, not share it with them to make your life easier.”

“I can’t just walk away from them. They’re my parents. They’d come looking for me. And what about Alice? I can’t just abandon her.”

“You fake your own death.”

“No,” Valkyrie said. “No way, I’m not doing that to them.”

“You don’t have to do it today, Valkyrie. But you will have to do it.”

“What’s wrong with telling them? I’d make them understand and they’d keep the secret.”

“Is that why you’re really here? You’re trying this out on me first before mentioning it to Skulduggery? He’ll react the same way. If you tell your family the truth, you’ll torture them. Their mortal lives will be shattered. They’ll jump at every shadow. They’ll grasp at religion or superstition to fill the sudden void they’ll create for themselves. I’ve seen it happen. You will change who they are because you’re too selfish to live without them.”

“Not if I do it right.”

“And that’s not even taking into account how worried they’ll be about you,” China continued. “Every hour that passes when they don’t hear from you is another possible death. You fight monsters, Valkyrie. Some in human form, and some not. Are you going to tell them about vampires? Are you? Will you tell them about Caelan? Will you tell them about the things you’ve done?”

Valkyrie’s phone beeped. Grateful for the interruption, she took it out, read from the screen, and frowned.

“Something wrong?” China asked.

“Bernard Sult’s been arrested at Roarhaven,” Valkyrie said.

“The Supreme Council will not be pleased.”

Valkyrie stood. “I have to go.”

“Of course. Duty calls.” China walked her to the door. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the answers you were hoping for.”

“There’s still a way to do it right,” Valkyrie said. “I just have to figure it out.”

“Many have tried. Practically every sorcerer alive has been in your shoes.”

“What about you?”

China smiled. “You forget. I was born into a family that worshipped the Faceless Ones. I hated mortals before I’d even taken my first breath. Sometimes that kind of dysfunction can work in your favour. Drive safely, Valkyrie. And happy birthday.”

t took Valkyrie a little over two hours to get to Roarhaven. Knowing the route from the passenger seat was one thing – being able to remember every turn from behind the wheel was quite another. Added to that, there were no signs for the town, and the road that led to it was hidden from the prying eyes of the public. Aside from people who knew the way, only the very determined or the very lost could ever hope to stumble upon it. In the end, Valkyrie gave in to how lost she was, and fifteen minutes later she was pulling up outside the Sanctuary.

There were Cleavers in the streets, which was a rare sight to see. The townspeople stayed away from all the fuss, scowling at Sanctuary personnel from their doorways and behind their curtains. Valkyrie was let through without being searched, and she found Ieni, a young mage from Cork, arguing with an older sorcerer. He was called away and Ieni turned to Valkyrie as she approached.

“You all right?” Valkyrie asked.

“They’re saying this is my fault,” Ieni said, her eyes glistening. “I was at my post and someone came up behind me and … They’re saying it’s my fault Sult got in. But I’m not the only one they got.”

“You’ll be fine,” Valkyrie said. “Everyone’s just confused right now. What was Sult trying to do?”

“They set off explosives on the Accelerator. It wasn’t damaged, though. Elder Bespoke took them down.”

“Right,” the older sorcerer said, striding back to Ieni, “you can consider yourself under investigation, you hear me? I can’t believe anyone could be as incompetent as you claim to be, which leads me to believe that you were working with the enemy.”