Читать книгу Resurrection - Derek Landy - Страница 11

“Explain,” Valkyrie said, a moment later.

Skulduggery steered them between the aisles of cars. “Explain what?”

“Why did the idiot think he could stop us parking here? You do still work for the Sanctuary, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Skulduggery said. “Well, no, not really.”

“But didn’t you tell me that you’d been made Commander of those morons?”

“I did, and I was, though they prefer the term City Guard, if I remember correctly …”

“So what happened?”

“I quit.” The Bentley swerved into an empty space and Skulduggery turned off the engine. “I felt I would be better suited operating outside the system, as it were, and it just so happened that there was a job opening for exactly that position.” They got out of the car. Xena barely stirred on the back seat.

“So, if you’re not City Guard Commander or a Sanctuary Detective, what are you?” Valkyrie asked as they started walking.

“Centuries ago,” Skulduggery said, “before the Sanctuaries were formed and each territory had its own Council of Elders, magical communities were bound together by way of a loose, international agreement of sorts. We’ll help you if you need it, providing you help us if we need it – that kind of thing. During this time there were certain sorcerers, much like the Marshal Service in the Old West, who delivered justice around the world and enforced the recognised law. They were called Arbiters. When the Sanctuaries came along, Arbiters weren’t needed, but the institution was never actually disbanded.”

“So the new Supreme Mage in all her majesty made you an Arbiter?” Valkyrie said.

“Actually, it was a lowly Grand Mage who bestowed that honour upon me,” Skulduggery said. “Grand Mage Naila. The African Sanctuary has troubles of its own right now, but they’ve been keeping an eye on how things have been going over here. As Arbiter, I now have jurisdiction all around the world and I’m free to investigate whatever I choose.”

“And who’s your boss?”

“Technically, I don’t have one.”

“How do you get paid?”

“I don’t do what I do for money.”

There was a low buzzing in Valkyrie’s ears that she tried to ignore. “But you do get paid, right? Who pays you?”

He sighed. “Each Sanctuary contributes a proportional amount in order to fund the Arbiter Corps.”

“And how many people are in the Arbiter Corps?”

“Including me and you? Two.”

“I’m not a part of it.”

“Your credentials were approved two hours ago.”

“By who?”

“Me.”

The buzzing got louder until it filled her head, and then her vision blurred for a moment, then came sharply into focus like a new lens being attached to a camera. The world suddenly burst with colour, a glorious red that overlaid Skulduggery’s body, and Valkyrie staggered.

“Valkyrie?” he asked. “Are you OK?”

She nodded, aware that she was blinking madly. “I’m just … I can see your aura.”

He tilted his head. “I didn’t know it was showing.”

“Give me a moment. It’ll go away.”

“Take your time,” he said, but even before he’d got the words out her vision had already snapped back to normal.

She straightened. “I’m good.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. Really. It’s happened plenty of times before.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. “I call it my aura-vision. I really need a better name for it, but whatever. If you’re interested, your aura is a vibrant red.”

“Ah, excellent,” he responded. “Is red a good colour for one’s aura to be?”

“I have no idea. Most auras I see are orange. I think you’re different because … you’re different.”

He nodded. “That would make sense.”

They walked on towards the far wall, where the concrete ground gave way to highly polished tiles. Skulduggery stood on one, making sure to keep his feet in the centre. Valkyrie did the same on the neighbouring tile.

“Skulduggery,” she said, “do you really think that you being your own boss is wise? You’re an incredibly irresponsible person.”

He nodded. “That did worry me at first, yes, but the more I thought about it, the more accustomed I became to the idea. I think I’ll be a wonderful boss, actually, and I certainly intend to lead by example.”

The tiles lifted off the ground, and Valkyrie had a moment to steady herself before shooting upwards to the squares of light in the darkness above. She still didn’t know what was so wrong with the regular old elevators just a little bit further on. At least you weren’t in danger of falling off one of them. This was, in her quiet opinion, needlessly magical.

Skulduggery swerved in front of her and her tile darted around him, twirling as it ascended. They passed through the empty squares above, the tiles clicking into place, and Valkyrie stepped off, a little dizzily, into the obsidian and marble foyer of the High Sanctuary.

The Cleavers standing guard remained impassive, but there were some curious glances from the people hurrying by. After a moment, Valkyrie realised they weren’t looking at Skulduggery – they were looking at her. It was like they’d never seen a pair of ripped jeans before.

Administrator Tipstaff came over. A narrow man with a neat haircut, he held a stack of folders under his arm and looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

“Detective Pleasant,” he said, “Detective Cain, thank you for being on time.”

“We’re on time?” Skulduggery asked, sounding surprised.

“I truly appreciate it,” said Tipstaff, “as I am incredibly busy today. While I do acknowledge the magnitude of Detective Cain’s appointment to the Arbiter Corps, I’m afraid we’ll have to dispense with the usual pomp.”

Skulduggery tilted his head. “There’s pomp usually? I wasn’t shown any pomp when I collected my badge. There was a smidgen of circumstance, but no pomp. I feel quite let down.”

Tipstaff ignored him, and handed Valkyrie a wallet. “Detective Cain, I have been instructed to tell you that even though the Supreme Mage had no say in approving your appointment, she supports you one hundred per cent and welcomes you back into the fold.”

“I’m not back,” said Valkyrie, opening the wallet. Beside her name and photograph there was a sigil made of silver, half the size of her palm. She slipped the wallet into her back pocket.

“May I enquire as to what case you are working on?” Tipstaff asked. “Of particular interest would be any potentially catastrophic global events. Our early-warning system in this regard has been quite limited ever since the Night of Knives.”

The Night of Knives had taken place two years earlier. At precisely the same time in four European countries, assassins unknown had slit the throats of eleven psychics as they slept. How the assassins had plotted against and then killed people who could literally see the future remained a mystery, almost two years on.

“If you are investigating something of appropriate seriousness,” Tipstaff continued, “the Supreme Mage has extended to you our full co-operation.”

“Supreme Mage,” Valkyrie echoed. “Grand Mage just wasn’t enough for her. She had to go all Supreme on us.”

Tipstaff gave a quick, polite smile. “Her duties are immense, as you are probably aware. There were no objections, however, when she claimed her new title.”

Valkyrie gave him a small smile back. “Lack of response isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement.”

“Perhaps not,” said Tipstaff. “But the case you are working on …?”

“Probably nothing,” said Skulduggery. “I thought I’d bring Valkyrie in on something nice and gentle, just to ease her back into things. But I assure you, if the potential for catastrophe increases by any significant margin, we’ll let you know.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Tipstaff said, and glanced at his watch. “And now I must depart. Good luck, Detectives.”

Valkyrie nodded to him as he spun on his heel and hurried away, and in that moment she caught another person glancing at her. She glared and the man looked away quickly.

“People keep staring at me,” she said.

“I’m sure it’s just your imagination,” Skulduggery responded, heading for the exit.

Valkyrie followed him as the doors opened into the sunshine. People strolled across the Circle and a few even braved the cold to eat lunch at the fountain and the base of the clock monument. Beyond them, the Dark Cathedral loomed.

“I don’t like it,” she said.

Skulduggery didn’t even have to ask what she was referring to. “It is quite an imposing structure, if one were to be imposed by structures.”

She folded her arms. “I don’t like where it is. It looks like it’s challenging the Sanctuary’s authority. I bet Eliza loves that.”

Skulduggery adjusted his cufflinks. “Actually, Eliza Scorn is no longer leader of the Church. I don’t even think she’s in the city any more.”

“How awful,” said Valkyrie. “I’m really going to miss her.”

“She was quite charming.”

“I think I’ll get over it, though.”

“The rest of us have.”

“So who’s in charge now?”

“That’s where things get decidedly less fun,” Skulduggery said. “A man named Creed is to take over. Quite a pious fellow. Likes the rulebook. Is fond of self-flagellation.”

“Ah,” Valkyrie said dismissively, “who doesn’t like to self-flagellate every now and then?”

“During the war, he denounced Mevolent as having strayed too far from the teachings of the Faceless Ones.”

“He thought Mevolent was too soft?” Valkyrie asked. “Mevolent? The guy who tried to take over the world and kill all mortals?”

“Ah-ah. He never said he wanted to kill them all, just that he wanted to kill some of them and enslave the rest.”

“And this new guy denounced him. He sounds lovely.”

“You’re going to like him, I just know it.”

They watched the people go by.

“You didn’t tell Tipstaff what you’re working on,” she said.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Any particular reason?”

Skulduggery shrugged. “I don’t have to. I don’t report to anyone here. If they’re smart, they’ll keep out of my way and let me do my job. Sometimes that happens. Sometimes it doesn’t.”

The monument in the Circle, across from the fountain, was a huge, three-sided clock, its inner workings exposed to the elements. The clocks were each stopped at different times, representing different stages of Devastation Day. The first clock was frozen at the moment Darquesse broke through the energy barrier protecting the city, the second clock was trapped at the moment she set off that devastating explosion in the eastern quarter, and the hands of the third clock were eternally stuck at the moment Darquesse left this reality, believing she had destroyed everything worth destroying.

It appeared, however, that a clock wouldn’t be a clock, even one as symbolic as this, without the ability to tell the actual time, so within every face there were the shadows of hands that weren’t there. This, Skulduggery had explained to Valkyrie upon her return, was a metaphor for life carrying on after catastrophe. They were also pretty accurate, which was a plus.

Checking the time, Valkyrie waited until no one was within earshot. “You’ve got me for twenty-two hours and thirty-three minutes,” she said, “and Temper Fray is still missing. What’s the plan?”

“We’re going to need someone to go undercover, I’m afraid. Nothing dangerous, I assure you. At least, it shouldn’t be. I presume it won’t be dangerous in the slightest, but it might be just a little bit dangerous, if we’re unlucky. Which we usually are, let’s be honest.”

She looked away so he wouldn’t see the doubt in her eyes, but it was too late.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“I can’t do it,” she said softly.

“Can’t do what?”

She cleared her throat. “Can’t go undercover, Skulduggery. I just can’t. I’m not … I’m not at my best and I’m not ready for it. I don’t even want to be here, for God’s sake. I’m sorry, I don’t want to let you down, but surely there’s someone else we can send. There has to be.”

His head tilted. “There is.”

She frowned. “Really?”

“I wasn’t going to send you, Valkyrie. You’re far too conspicuous, especially in Roarhaven. No, this will have to be somebody new. Somebody totally unconnected to either of us. Somebody no one would ever suspect of doing anything remotely adventurous. Luckily, I have just the boy in mind.”