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Skulduggery and Valkyrie watched as Omen Darkly, his schoolbag slung over his shoulder, failed utterly to take his leave with anything resembling dignity. He tried two locked doors before finding the one that led off the balcony and into the tower. He waved, blushing madly, and disappeared.

“Interesting boy,” Skulduggery said. “Not what I would call especially impressive, but an interesting boy, nonetheless.”

“I don’t know about this,” Valkyrie said. She was getting cold. “He’s a kid, Skulduggery. We shouldn’t be involving him in this stuff.”

“Perhaps,” Skulduggery said, “but he did make a valid point. I involved you in ‘this stuff’ when you were even younger.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

“That was me,” she said. “I could handle it.”

“I think Omen will surprise you.”

“He forgot which door he literally just came through.”

“So it’ll be an even bigger surprise.”

She peered over the railing, down on to an empty courtyard. “He’s not going to get the chance, though, is he? He keeps an eye out for this recruiter person and that’s it, he goes home.”

“This is a boarding school.”

“You know what I mean.”

“That’s all we’ll need him to do, yes. But there’s a stubbornness in his eyes that I’ve really only seen once before.”

“I was never stubborn,” Valkyrie said, climbing over the railing. “I just happened to be right.”

She let go and plummeted. The South Tower was six storeys high and she was halfway to the hard ground before the air began to slow her descent. Skulduggery drifted down beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“I do wish you’d tell me before you jump,” he said, “especially if you aren’t even going to attempt to use your powers.”

“I can’t fly,” she reminded him.

“You’ve flown before.”

“I’ve hovered.”

“Hovering is the first step to flying,” he said as they touched down gently in the empty courtyard. He released her. “That’s what I tell people who ask for tips.”

“Do many ask?”

“More and more,” he said. “Apparently, there’s been a resurgence in people choosing Elemental magic as their discipline, all because they want to learn to soar above the clouds.”

The wind had messed up her hair, so she tied it back into a ponytail. “Even though none of their Elemental teachers can fly? This doesn’t suggest to them that maybe flying is harder to master than it would appear?”

“They don’t care,” Skulduggery said. “They just want to emulate their heroes.”

“You mean you.”

“As the only Elemental who can actually fly, yes, I mean me. Don’t you miss it?”

“Flying? The only times I’ve properly flown, Darquesse had taken over. The memory’s a little tainted.”

“I suppose,” he said, then took his pocket watch from his waistcoat and glanced at it. “There’s someone I need to talk to before we leave. Will I meet you back at the car?”

“Ah,” she said, “I kinda want to explore a little, see what’s what.”

“Oh. OK. And you’re sure you don’t want to head back to the car and wait for me there?”

“You’re worried that my dog will have peed on your seats, aren’t you?”

“The thought has occurred to me.”

“Xena will still be asleep, believe me, and she doesn’t pee in cars. You go talk to whoever you have to talk to, I’ll have a walk around and I’ll meet you out front in, what, twenty minutes?”

They split up, and she passed through the nearest door, found herself in a corridor just as the bell rang and students swarmed out, filling the spaces and jostling Valkyrie as they squeezed by. She sighed with irritation, kept her elbows down and didn’t hit anyone. After another few seconds, the crowd started to thin and she could walk without tripping over anyone.

Four kids with green ties stood in a group ahead of her. They started whispering. Valkyrie kept her head down and her eyes on the floor as she passed them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw them glance her way, and when they were behind her the whispering picked up again.

Valkyrie turned to face them. “What?” she snapped. “What is it that’s so fascinating about me? What?

The kids froze. They actually looked scared. One of them snapped out of it, hurried away, and the others quickly followed. Valkyrie glared at them until they had disappeared round the corner. Then she started to feel stupid for overreacting.

She turned again, just as a young woman dressed all in black strode up to her with an arm outstretched.

“Hello!” the young woman said, and Valkyrie was shaking her hand before she knew what was happening. “It’s very good to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you, naturally, but it’s so good to finally meet you in the flesh!”

She was Scottish, had long red hair, a few freckles and the brightest smile Valkyrie had seen in a long time.

“You’ll have to forgive the students,” the woman said, lowering her voice slightly. “It’s not often they meet someone famous.”

Valkyrie took her hand back. Gently. “I’m not famous.”

“Ah, well, infamous, then.”

Valkyrie took a moment to work it out, then she sagged. “Oh, right. Darquesse.”

“They’ve seen all the pictures,” the redhead said, “all the videos. And there are plenty of videos of Darquesse tearing the place up. They don’t mean anything by staring, really they don’t.”

“It’s fine,” Valkyrie replied. “Amazingly, I kind of forgot that people would associate me with her, even though we shared the same face. Just another thing to feel bad about, I suppose.”

“Mmm,” said the redhead, because she obviously couldn’t think of a way to salvage this topic of conversation. Then she brightened again. “I’m Militsa Gnosis. I teach Magic Theory.”

“You’re a Necromancer?”

“Guilty as charged,” Militsa said, and then suddenly stopped smiling. “Which is probably not the best phrase to use when most of your Order plotted to kill billions of people. If it makes any difference, though, I didn’t know anything about the Passage or what the Clerics were planning.”

“So you’re a good Necromancer?”

“Yes,” Militsa said, beaming once again. “I was going to store my magic in a ring like you did, but I didn’t want you to think I was copying you, even though I so would have been, so I keep it in this instead.” She pulled back her sleeve, revealing a thick bracelet. “It’s pretty cool, I think.”

“Yeah.”

Militsa’s smile faltered. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“I’m being lame, aren’t I?”

“Sorry?”

“I’m being so lame right now,” Militsa said, her chin dropping. “You think I’m a complete idiot, don’t you?”

“Do I?”

“You must.”

“I don’t think so.”

“But I’m babbling. I’m just a babbling idiot that ran up to you and started babbling. This is so embarrassing. Why do I have to be so lame?”

“I … I don’t think you’re lame.”

“That’s just because you’re a nice person.”

“I’m not that nice,” Valkyrie said. “Really, I’m not. I’m quite rude.”

“You’re not rude.”

“I am,” Valkyrie insisted. “Before this conversation is done, I bet I’ll have been rude to you by accident.”

Militsa looked up. Her eyes were huge. “You mean it?”

“I do. And you’re not lame and you’re not an idiot. You’re just being friendly. You’re a friendly Necromancer, which is kind of unique.”

“We’re not known for being friendly, I’d have to agree,” Militsa said, brightening.

“So you’re a teacher here?”

“Yep. I guide students through their options, as far as choosing a discipline goes. I never meant to be a teacher, to be honest. It’s not something I ever saw myself doing, but it combines two of my favourite things – talking about magic and … and, well, reading about magic, I suppose. I don’t have a very wide range of interests.”

“Maybe you should get out more.”

“That’s what my mum says, but then she’s three hundred years old. I think she has unrealistic expectations when it comes to me. I’m just a normal girl. Give me a good book and a sofa and I’m happy, you know?”

“Can’t beat a book and a sofa.”

“If I wasn’t a teacher, I’d probably be a researcher, maybe be a part of Project Torchlight. Have you heard of it?”

“I haven’t, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, no matter. My point being, I specialise in the Source – which is another reason I’m so pumped to be meeting you.” Militsa hesitated, her eyes sparkling. “Could I see your magic? Could I see what you can do?”

“Uh …”

“Just a little bit, I swear. You’re incredible to me, that’s all. You’re connected to the Source of all magic like nobody else. Your magic is … it’s pure. Unfiltered.”

“I’m not very good at controlling it,” Valkyrie confessed.

“I’m not surprised,” said Militsa. “I’ve got theories about it, if you’d like to hear them.”

“Uh, maybe. I’m a little busy right now …”

“Oh, of course,” Militsa said, laughing at her own stupidity. “Of course you’re busy, you’re Valkyrie Cain! But if ever you wanted to talk about it, just knock on my door. I will literally drop everything to talk to you. Literally. Everything.” She brushed her hands together. “Dropped.”

“OK,” said Valkyrie. “Well, I might do that.”

“Or if you just want to hang out,” Militsa said. “You haven’t been to Roarhaven much, have you? Again, I’m not a stalker, I just … I’d have heard if you were in town a lot. I could show you around. There’s actually a pretty good arts scene here. Bizarre, I know, but there you go. Might be fun, if you’re into that kind of thing. Or we could go for a coffee. Or a drink. Or dinner. Would you like to go to dinner?”

“No thank you.”

“Right, of course, you’re busy, I get it.”

“It’s not that I’m busy,” said Valkyrie. “It’s just that I don’t want to.”

Militsa blinked. “Oh. Well, I mean, OK. That’s cool.”

Valkyrie’s face soured. “And now I’m being rude, just like I knew I would.”

“You’re not rude, no.”

“It’s just I’m not looking for a friend right now.”

Militsa blinked. “Ohh. OK.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to offend you, but I’m trying to stay away from people until I get my head straight.”

“Gotcha,” Militsa said. “No explanation needed. You’ve been through a lot and the last thing you need is someone to talk to.”

“When you say it like that,” Valkyrie said, “it sounds stupid.”

“Not at all. This is totally my fault – I just feel like I know you already. I’ve asked Fletcher so many questions.”

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “You know Fletcher Renn?”

Militsa looked surprised. “Well, of course. He’s a teacher here.”

Valkyrie couldn’t help it – she grinned. “Fletcher? Seriously? What does he teach? What does he know well enough to teach?”

Militsa grinned with her. “Teleportation. He’s only got three students, and only one of them can actually teleport, but he’s pretty good. I think you’d be impressed.”

“That’s hilarious,” said Valkyrie. “Is he all strict and stuff?”

“Very. He has a teacher voice.”

“Oh, wow.”

Valkyrie’s phone buzzed with a message from Skulduggery, saying he’d be delayed another ten minutes. As she slipped it back into her jeans, she noticed Militsa glancing at her watch.

“You probably have work to do,” Valkyrie said.

Militsa nodded. “I’m supposed to be teaching a class right now. If this was a mortal school, the kids’d be tearing up the place, but Corrival students tend to be so boringly well behaved that they’re probably cleaning the windows. The coffee offer will remain open, by the way, for as long as you need it to be. Or, you know, dinner. Whatever.”

“Thank you. Really. I appreciate the gesture.”

“No problem,” Militsa said, and beamed another smile. “It was so nice to meet you, Valkyrie. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

Valkyrie smiled back, and Militsa turned with a swirl of her cloak and walked off. She wore a cloak. Valkyrie hadn’t known very many people who wore cloaks. Not even Skulduggery wore a cloak. What an odd girl. Valkyrie liked her.

She left the school, with its magnificent arches and grand staircases, and walked the wide streets. Plenty of time to double back and meet Skulduggery. There was a guy on the corner, barefoot and dressed in sackcloth, holding a sign that warned her that the end was nigh. To reinforce the point he was making, he shouted it at anyone who was passing.

“The end is nigh!” he screeched to Valkyrie, shaking the cardboard sign. “The end is nigh!”

“Isn’t it always?” she asked, and left him shaking the sign resentfully.

She made a note of the street names as she went by. Gorgon Street. Titan Street. Bellower Road. She crossed Meritorious Square and took the narrower streets now, away from the staring, whispering people. She walked down Blood-drenched Lane, took a right on to Decapitation Row. At least they were easy to remember.

She smelled food and her tummy rumbled, so she followed the smell and then abruptly lost it in a dead end that went by the charming name of Putrid Road. She turned, and stopped.

Three people stood there – two men and one woman – staring at her with a special kind of look in their eyes. Valkyrie had seen that look before. She was well used to that look.

That look meant that, at some point in the next few minutes, they were going to try to kill her.

Skulduggery Pleasant

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