Читать книгу Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 4 - 6 - Derek Landy - Страница 24
Оглавлениеou’re quiet,” Skulduggery said when they were back on the road.
“I am,” Valkyrie agreed.
“Are you in awe of me?”
“Something like that.”
Skulduggery nodded. “You’re in awe of me.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Splendid,” he replied.
“You sure frightened him,” Valkyrie said.
“Who, the boy? Did I?”
“For a moment it looked like you were going to kill him.”
“It did?”
“It did.”
“Fancy that,” he said.
“You said you were unhinged.”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I did. Quite clever, yes? You see, if they think I have been driven mad, they will struggle to predict my actions. I become very, very dangerous to them, and hopefully, that will make Guild do what we want.”
“And you’re not, right?” Valkyrie said cautiously. “You’re not unhinged?”
“Oh, God, no,” he laughed. “No, I’m perfectly sane. Now then, do you want to tell me about that ring you’re wearing?”
“Oh,” she said. “That.”
“Solomon Wreath is teaching you Necromancy, isn’t he?”
“I needed the extra strength to get you back,” she explained. “I’m only a trainee Elemental – I need all the help I can get, you know?”
“And now that I’m back?”
“Sorry?”
“You said you needed that ring to get me back. So now that I’m here, is that it? Are you going to throw it away?”
Valkyrie felt the cold metal around her finger and how comforting it had become lately. “If you want me to,” she said slowly.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.” Skulduggery didn’t say anything so she had to continue. “I suppose throwing away another set of powers, I mean, it doesn’t really make sense. It’s a weapon I need to get the job done.”
“And being an Elemental isn’t enough to do that?”
“When I’m powerful enough, sure, and especially with all those new things you can do, but I’m still learning. And I’ve got another few years before my magic settles, right?”
“That’s true,” Skulduggery nodded. “You’ll probably be twenty, maybe twenty-one, before you have to choose one style over all the rest.”
“And after that, I can’t switch?”
He hesitated. “It’s not impossible. But it is rare.”
“But I can keep using the ring until I’m about to settle, can’t I, and then give it back?”
“As easy as that?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Strength is addictive.”
“I can handle it.”
“Solomon Wreath is not to be trusted.”
“He saved my life last night.”
Skulduggery snapped his head to her. “What happened?”
“Uh, Crux got into my house and tried to kill me. I could have handled it. I don’t mean Wreath saved my life, but he, you know, he helped. China’s people set up a perimeter around Haggard though, so nobody magical can get in without being noticed. Except me of course.”
“Right,” Skulduggery said, yanking the wheel sharply. “I need to have a word with Wreath.”
Valkyrie had been to the Necromancer Temple only once before, to see her ring being forged in the shadow furnace. She had imagined, when told of the Temple, a vast building with spires and long narrow windows, of huge doors and possibly some dark and terrible towers. Her expectations were dashed when Solomon Wreath had led her through an old graveyard, to a crypt with rusted iron gates, overgrown with weeds and ivy. Beneath that crypt, however, the Temple lay – a cold and forbidding labyrinth, drenched in darkness.
It was at this rusted gate she found herself again, standing at Skulduggery’s side. Her heart beat fast. Not from nerves, or excitement, but simply because she was in a graveyard. She could feel the tendrils of death being drawn into the ring on her finger and soaking through into her body. The thought of it made her queasy, but the sensation was…electric.
The crypt door opened heavily and Solomon Wreath smiled at them, and said, “Suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”
“How unique,” Skulduggery said without enthusiasm, “a Necromancer quoting Poe.”
Wreath’s smile grew wider. “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”
“Shakespeare is the happy hunting ground of all minds that have lost their balance,” Skulduggery responded. “Are we going to boast about how well-read we are all day or are we going to talk?”
“About?”
“Valkyrie.”
“I see. In that case, please come in.” The gate creaked open for him and they passed through. “How are you by the way? I hope that alternate dimension wasn’t too uncomfortable for you.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” Skulduggery responded. “It gave me time to catch up on some screaming.”
They followed Wreath down the stone steps, into the darkness.
“I believe I have you to thank for suggesting my own skull as an Isthmus Anchor,” Skulduggery continued. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be over there.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“Very well.”
Wreath laughed.
Now they were in the dark labyrinth, passing the chambers that were carved into the walls. In some of these rooms people in black robes raised their heads, lamplight catching flashes of skin against shadow. In others the dark-robed figures were too busy with whatever they were doing to bother looking up. Up ahead, people moved quickly.
“There seems to be a disturbance,” Skulduggery noted.
“Nothing to concern you,” Wreath said. “One of our trinkets has gone missing. We’re trying to find it. But enough of the everyday humdrum of Temple life. You are here to talk, are you not?”
“Valkyrie tells me she’s been taking lessons with you,” Skulduggery said, his voice loud in the cold silence.
“Indeed she has,” Wreath responded. “Would this be a problem for you?”
“Necromancy is a dangerous discipline. Not everyone is suited to it.”
“Well, now,” Wreath said, smiling, “could it be that I have more faith in Valkyrie’s abilities than you do?”
“This isn’t about ability,” Skulduggery said curtly. “This is about aptitude.”
“What do you mean?” Valkyrie asked.
“In order for you to make an informed decision, can I assume Solomon here has told you about the Necromancer beliefs?”
Suddenly Wreath did not look happy. “Our beliefs are private. They are not discussed with…”
“With?” Skulduggery prompted.
“Non-believers,” Wreath said.
“You can make an exception for me, can’t you?” Skulduggery pressed. Somehow, he was now in the lead and Valkyrie realised they were heading for the source of the quiet commotion. “And as for Valkyrie, don’t her lessons with you entitle her to hear this?”
“Valkyrie,” Wreath said, “you could be considered one of our indoctrinates, one of our trainees, and as such you could expect to be taught these things gradually, over the coming years.”
“But you’ll skip the formalities,” Skulduggery said. “Yes?”
Wreath sighed and spoke to her. “Death is a part of life. You’ve undoubtedly heard that before. It’s meant as a platitude, to comfort the bereaved and the scared. But the truth is, life flows into death and death flows back into life.
“The darkness we use in our magic is a living energy. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? It almost has a life of its own. It is life and death. They’re the same thing – a constant, recycling stream that permeates all universes.”
“Tell her about the Death Bringer,” Skulduggery said, looking around.
“The Death Bringer is not relevant to—”
“Well, you can’t hide it from her now, can you? So you may as well.”
Wreath took a breath to keep his temper in check. “We’re waiting for a Necromancer strong enough to break down the walls between life and death. Some people call this person the Death Bringer. We have conducted tests; we’ve researched; we’ve taken a very clinical approach to all of this. This isn’t a prophecy. Prophecies mean nothing, they’re merely interpretations of possibilities. This is an inevitability. We will find someone powerful enough to break down the wall, and the energy of the dead will live alongside us, and we will evolve to meet it.”
“They call this the Passage,” Skulduggery said. “What Solomon here is neglecting to tell you of course are the names of a few people whom the Necromancers have proclaimed to be the Death Bringer in the past.”
“She doesn’t need to know this,” Wreath said, anger in his eyes.
“I think she does.”
“Tell me,” Valkyrie said to them both.
Wreath hesitated. “The last person we thought was powerful enough to possibly become the Death Bringer came to us during the war. Within two years of starting his Necromancy training, Lord Vile was the equal to any of our masters.”
“Vile?” Valkyrie said. “Lord Vile was your saviour?”
“We thought he could be,” Wreath replied quickly. “His ascension through the ranks was unheard of. It was impossible. He was a prodigy. The darkness was…it wasn’t just in him. It was him.”
They turned a corner and followed a passageway to its end, Skulduggery leading the way without appearing to.
“And then he left,” Skulduggery said. “And joined Mevolent’s army. I bet that still rankles.”
“So you’ve been without a Death Bringer ever since?” Valkyrie asked.
“Yes,” Wreath said. He looked at Skulduggery. “Is that why you are here then? So you could make this clumsy attempt to embarrass me?”
“At first,” Skulduggery said. “But now I’m curious as to what trinket you’ve misplaced. Oh, look where we are. What a nice coincidence.”
They had arrived at a small chamber with wooden shelves at odd angles. The two Necromancers within fell silent immediately. Skulduggery went to step inside, but Wreath took hold of his arm.
“We didn’t ask for your help,” he said firmly. “This is a Necromancer affair.”
“It was here though?” Skulduggery asked. “Your trinket? Why don’t you tell us what has gone missing and I’ll tell you who took it.”
Wreath smiled thinly. “You’ve worked it out already?”
“I am a detective.”
Wreath took a moment then nodded to the two Necromancers and they left. He stepped back as Valkyrie joined Skulduggery in examining the room. “The missing object is a sphere, about the size of your fist, set inside a cradle of obsidian.”
“A Soul Catcher,” Skulduggery said.
“One of the last in existence,” Wreath nodded.
Valkyrie frowned. “Does that do what it sounds like it does? Why would you need to catch souls?”
“The Soul Catcher was used to trap and contain an individual energy,” Wreath told her, “to stop it from rejoining the stream. It was a barbaric punishment that we have long since outlawed.
“The last time an inventory was carried out was a month ago. If it was indeed stolen, it could have been stolen a month ago or it could have been stolen yesterday. The simple fact is, however, I can’t see how any thief could have got this far into the Temple without being seen.”
“Oh, it was definitely stolen,” Skulduggery said. “But the thief didn’t use the door.”
Valkyrie looked at him. “So who stole it?” Skulduggery pointed up. She clicked her fingers and raised her hand, the flames flickering across the patch of cracked and crumbled ceiling, large enough to fit a man through.
“Sanguine,” Valkyrie said.
Wreath frowned. “Billy-Ray Sanguine? What would he want with a Soul Catcher?”
“This is just a guess,” Skulduggery said, “but maybe he wants to use it to catch a soul.”
