Читать книгу Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12 - Derek Landy - Страница 41

22

THE SCEPTRE OF THE ANCIENTS

tephanie was pulled up to a ledge then dragged over it. She tried tearing the tentacle from her wrist, but more slithered from the gloom, wrapping tightly around her arm. She reached back with her free hand and grabbed on to the ledge, but it was no use. Her fingers couldn’t take the strain and she had to let go, and she started sliding across the slimy rock.

There was something up ahead, a grey mass of flesh, a growth that had spread unchecked and unchallenged in this dark little corner. The tentacles were pulling her towards its centre, where a large mouth gaped hungrily, razor teeth dripping with viscous saliva.

Her free hand found a large stone and she grabbed it, holding the sharp edge as she would a dagger, and brought it down hard. The stone cut through the tentacles and she pulled her arm free and was up, running, but more tentacles flexed and shot out. They found her legs and Stephanie hit the ground. She tried to kick out but they tightened.

There were tentacles everywhere.

The thing, whatever it was, beat with a sickly pulse as it dragged her closer. She couldn’t see any eyes. All it had was its tentacles and that mouth… Which meant it operated by its sense of touch.

Stephanie forced herself to stop struggling. Fighting against every instinct within her, she relaxed her body, and although the speed at which she was moving didn’t change, she felt its grip on her loosen slightly. The other tentacles stopped their approach, but they were already too close. They’d be on her in an instant if she tried to pull away.

Stephanie lobbed the stone and it hit a tentacle and bounced away. Sensing another victim nearby, the remaining tentacles slithered after it, searching blindly through the shadows. Stephanie took a deep breath and reached for her ankles, waited until the grip was loosened further, and then grabbed the tentacles and ripped them away.

She got up, but instead of running away, she ran forward, towards the thing with the mouth. She leaped on to it, over its gaping maw, and her boot almost slipped on its wet, quivering flesh. She jumped, her hands catching the ledge overhead. She hauled herself up as the tentacles snapped and coiled below, their movements becoming more and more frenzied as the thing searched for its missing prey.

Stephanie didn’t stop to rest. She got to her feet and hurried from the ledge into the gloom of the passage beyond. She fought off the sudden fear that she’d be lost down in these caves forever. It won’t be forever, she chided herself. If one of the monsters doesn’t find me and kill me, I’ll die of thirst anyway within a few days.

Stephanie couldn’t quite believe she’d just thought that.

Pushing all fears and doubts and pessimistic – though probably realistic – thoughts to the back of her mind, she slowed her pace and concentrated on finding a way back to Skulduggery. And then she saw a light.

She crept forward until she came to a balcony of rock, overlooking a small cavern. She peeked down to see a half-dozen Hollow Men, one of them holding a lantern. Mr Bliss didn’t appear to have accompanied this little expedition. Serpine was there, however, standing in front of a small boulder, its surface flat like a table. On this boulder was a wooden chest with a large lock. Her heart lurched. He’d found it.

She looked down. It wasn’t that far to the cavern floor. A couple of metres. She didn’t have a choice. She had to try.

The Hollow Men had their backs to her, so Stephanie eased herself over the edge without being noticed and dropped to the cavern floor. The light from the lantern didn’t reach this far and the shadows enveloped her so that when one of the Hollow Men turned, its empty gaze passed right over the spot where she crouched. She waited until it had turned back before moving again.

The darkness along the edges of this cavern was so absolute, and her clothes so black, that she could creep up next to her enemies without being seen. She moved achingly slowly, taking only the barest of breaths. She was sure Serpine would hear her heart thundering against her ribcage, but he was preoccupied with the chest.

He tapped the lock with a skinless finger of his red right hand, and the mechanism rusted and snapped in an instant. He smiled as he pulled on his glove, opened the chest and lifted the Sceptre of the Ancients from within.

It was real. The ultimate weapon, the weapon with which the Ancients defeated their gods – it was real. The years hadn’t dimmed its golden beauty, and it seemed to hum for a moment, acclimatising itself to its new owner. The ultimate weapon, in the hands of Serpine.

“At last,” she heard him whisper.

A strange singing filled the chamber, and Stephanie realised it was coming from the black crystal in the Sceptre. Serpine turned as Skulduggery Pleasant stormed into the cavern.

Skulduggery waved his hand and the Hollow Men flew back off their feet. He crashed into Serpine and the Sceptre clattered to the ground. Serpine threw a punch and Skulduggery ducked under it and moved in close, his hand snaking up to Serpine’s shoulder and his hip twisting into him. Serpine pitched over and hit the ground hard.

Stephanie crept through the murk, heading for the Sceptre. The Hollow Men were starting to get up, clumping back to fight at the centre of the cavern.

Skulduggery clicked his fingers and Serpine was too close to dodge the fireball. It hit him square in the chest and enveloped him completely. The Hollow Men froze as their master wheeled about, engulfed in flame. His foot hit the Sceptre and it skidded to the edge of the light…

… and closer to Stephanie.

Skulduggery splayed his hand and Serpine hit the far wall and collapsed to the floor. Skulduggery put out the flames with a casual wave. Serpine lay where he was, his clothes smouldering, his flesh charred and horribly burnt.

“It’s over,” Skulduggery said. “This is where your past catches up to you. This is where you die.”

And then, impossibly, a laugh, and Serpine sat up.

“That,” he said, “hurt.”

And as Stephanie watched, the burnt flesh started to heal itself and hair regrew along the blistered scalp, leaving not even a scar.

Serpine gathered purple vapour in his palm and threw it at Skulduggery, knocking him back. The vapour became a thin, snaking tendril that darted into the shadows, wrapping around the Sceptre and yanking it into Serpine’s hand just as Stephanie reached for it. Skulduggery recovered, but he was too late to do anything. The sorcerer got to his feet, holding the Sceptre, and smiled.

“I’m in two minds,” Serpine said as Stephanie moved, unseen, behind him. “Should I use this to destroy you, to reduce your worthless bones to ash, or should I just leave you down here in the darkness? Leaving you here would be more satisfying in the long term, I admit, but what can I say? I crave instant satisfaction. I’m shallow like that.”

Stephanie lunged, slamming her shoulder into Serpine’s back just as the Sceptre’s crystal flashed. Black lightning zigzagged through the air, missing Skulduggery by centimetres and turning the rock behind him to dust. Serpine turned and grabbed her. Stephanie punched him with all of her strength but he just snarled, and then Skulduggery was there and the air rippled. Serpine went sliding across the cavern floor, but he was still clutching the Sceptre.

Skulduggery waved at the Hollow Men and they hurtled backwards, then Stephanie felt a gloved hand close around her wrist and she was dragged out of the cavern. Skulduggery sprinted so fast she just allowed herself to be carried along in his wake.

He knew exactly where he was going, and within minutes they were at the stone steps, hurrying up out of the caves. They reached the cellar and the key flew from the lock into his hand. The floor groaned and rumbled and closed up.

“Will that hold him?” Stephanie asked.

“He’s got the Sceptre,” Skulduggery said. “Nothing will hold him.” As if to prove his point, the floor started to crack.

“Move!” Skulduggery shouted. They bolted up the stairs and Stephanie glanced back just as the floor vanished in a soft whump of dust and air.

They plunged out of the house into the bright sunlight, the Hollow Men right behind. Stephanie was three steps from the yellow car when one of the Hollow Men grabbed her.

Stephanie lashed out. Her fingers tore into its face and she ripped downwards and a blast of foul air escaped. The Hollow Man stumbled back, clutching at its head. Its entire body deflated, until it was nothing more than papery skin being trodden on by its brethren.

Another lunged at her and Skulduggery tackled it, rammed an elbow into the side of its neck and flipped it over his shoulder. There was movement to their right and Tanith Low ran towards them, her sword clearing its scabbard. She came in fast, the blade twirling and glinting in the sun, sending pieces of Hollow Men fluttering into the air like confetti.

Black lightning streaked from the doorway and the Canary Car crumbled to nothing. Serpine stalked out of the house. Stephanie felt heat flare beside her face as Skulduggery started hurling fireballs. Serpine waved the first one away and dodged back to avoid the others.

Stephanie was only aware of the other car when it screeched to a stop behind her. The door opened and Tanith sheathed her sword, pushed Stephanie into the car and jumped in after her, and the car was moving again.

Stephanie sat up in time to see Skulduggery hurl one last ball of fire and then turn and dive straight through the open window. He landed on top of her as the car swerved and she felt his elbow against her head. The car swerved again and they separated. Trees zipped past outside and she knew they were out of Serpine’s line of fire.

They passed the huge gates that led out of Gordon’s estate and Skulduggery righted himself. “Well,” he said, “that was bracing.”

A familiar voice came from the front seat. “One of these days I won’t be around to get you out of trouble, you know.”

Stephanie turned her head, saw the man in the bow tie behind the wheel and beside him, in the passenger seat, China Sorrows, poised and perfect.

“I don’t know what you’d do without me, Skulduggery,” China said. “I really don’t.”