Читать книгу Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12 - Derek Landy - Страница 95

hina’s whole body was covered in swirling black tattoos. Vengeous threw Valkyrie down and she watched China dodge an attack, tapping matching tattoos on her legs. They glowed green beneath her torn trousers and now she was a blur, weaving her way past Vengeous’s shadows.

He snarled in annoyance and lashed out, but she was too fast, and now she was in close. Some of the tattoos glowed red, she grabbed him and punched and Vengeous was taken off his feet.

His shadows curled around him and let him down gently then they shot at China. She clapped her hands together and the tattoos on her palms touched and mingled and a yellow barrier went up. The shadows struck the barrier and China grunted, but the barrier held.

The shadows around Skulduggery started to fade, as Vengeous’ attention was focused elsewhere. Skulduggery broke free and dropped to the ground. He moved to Valkyrie, grabbing her arm.

“We have to get out of here,” he said urgently.

“But we can help—”

“We can’t stop him, he’s too powerful.”

“We’re just going to retreat?”

“We’re not retreating, we’re advancing in reverse. Stick with me and stay low.”

They sprinted for the main hospital building. Valkyrie looked over at the battle, saw a trail of shadows sneak around behind China, attack the barrier from there. The barrier was weakening. China dropped to one knee, her hands still flat against each other.

Valkyrie held on to Skulduggery, the air rippled and they shot up to the rooftop.

“We can’t just leave her!” Valkyrie said as they ran.

“Agreed,” Skulduggery said. “But we can’t beat him when he’s wearing that armour, that much we know. We need to find a way to get that armour off.”

“What? But the only way we could do that is by getting in close, and we can’t get past those shadows!”

“Exactly. So we need to cheat.”

They jumped down the other side, landing beside the jeep, and found what Skulduggery was looking for.

“Ah,” Valkyrie said. “Clever.”

“Naturally.”

Valkyrie crept across the rooftop. The battle was over. Unconscious Cleavers lay all around, the Grotesquery was still trying to heal itself, and China was hurt and on her knees. Baron Vengeous was standing behind her, gazing at his armoured hands.

“I can see why someone would choose necromancy,” Vengeous was saying. “It has its limitations of course, but for the sheer thrill of using it against one’s enemies … It’s hard to beat.

“I fought alongside Vile during the war. I never liked him. He was … different. He had secrets. But I knew he was powerful. I just never realised how powerful. Nothing compared to the Faceless Ones obviously, but still … potent. And now, that power is mine.”

“You’re not …” China muttered.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Valkyrie stayed low and kept moving, getting closer.

“You’re not in his league,” China said, finding the strength to speak. “Vile … was extraordinary … You just wear his clothes.”

“I wield his power,” Vengeous said. “I wield the power of necromancy.”

“It isn’t yours,” China said, and she laughed and it sounded brittle and painful. “You’re right. Vile was different. He could have used his power to … to change the world … but you, Baron? You wouldn’t know where to begin.”

The victorious smile had drifted from the Baron’s face. He gathered darkness in his hands. “I should have killed you years ago,” he said.

The darkness hit China and flipped her over and then Billy-Ray Sanguine erupted from the ground behind Vengeous with Skulduggery Pleasant clinging to his back and holding a gun to his head.

Skulduggery threw Sanguine away and dropped his gun, grabbing Vengeous in a chokehold before he could even turn. Valkyrie leaped off the roof and displaced the air beneath her as Sanguine straightened up. She landed and focused, splayed her hand and he shot back off his feet.

Vengeous twisted violently, but Skulduggery held on. Valkyrie heard a small click amid all the curses and and she saw the armour’s chest-plate open and a mist of darkness burst forth.

Vengeous screamed in rage and tried to pull away, but Skulduggery had a good grip on the chest plate. He threw it to the ground and Vengeous stumbled forward. Darkness leaked from the armour and dissipated in the night air.

Vengeous extended a hand and the shadows whipped for Skulduggery, but they were frail and slight. Skulduggery broke them and moved in, hitting Vengeous in the sternum with the heel of his palm. Vengeous gasped and staggered, tried again, but the shadows missed Skulduggery entirely this time, and the detective went low and to the side, raking an elbow across Vengeous’s ribs and then driving it back and down into his kidney. Vengeous’s knees buckled and he hissed in pain.

Something moved in the corner of Valkyrie’s eye and she turned just as Sanguine rammed into her. He took her off her feet and she hit the floor. He was standing right over her, reaching down, and she punched the side of his knee. It hurt her fist, but hurt him more, and she rolled and got up, but he grabbed her again, hands on her throat.

She punched him in the gut, in the jaw, but he shook it off and grinned, fingers tightening. She punched him square on the nose and he howled and she grabbed his little finger and wrenched. He howled again and let go. She booted him in the groin and he gasped and reached for her then doubled over as the pain hit.

Vengeous got Skulduggery in some kind of lock that would have torn the muscles and sinew of a man with muscles and sinew. Skulduggery wriggled out of it and went to work with his elbows, slamming them like bullets into Vengeous’s face and body.

Sanguine moaned in pain and went to get up, and Valkyrie grabbed him from behind, pressing his own straight razor against his throat.

“So that’s where it is,” he said, trying to pull back from the blade, but Valkyrie held him tight.

“Don’t even try to do your disappearing act here,” she warned him. “The moment I see the ground start to crack, you’re dead.”

The laugh that escaped his lips was dry. “You can’t kill me, darlin’. You’re one of the good guys. That’d be murder.”

She pressed the blade in deeper. “See if I care.”

She looked around as Vengeous snatched up his cutlass. The blade flashed as Skulduggery held up his right hand to protect himself, and it sliced through his upper arm. He cried out and fell back, his severed arm falling to the ground, still wrapped in its sleeve. Vengeous kicked and Skulduggery went down, and Vengeous stood over him, cutlass raised.

“Baron!” Valkyrie shouted. He looked over, cutlass frozen in mid-swing. “Put the sword down.”

Vengeous laughed. “Or what? You’ll cut Sanguine’s throat? Go ahead.”

“I’m not kidding. I’ll do it.”

“I believe you.”

“I’ll do anythin’,” Sanguine pleaded. “I’ll go away, I’ll never come back, I’ll never see you again, I swear.”

Vengeous looked faintly disgusted. “Try dying with some dignity, you godless wretch.”

“Shut up, old man!” Sanguine shouted.

Vengeous laughed. “Look up, girl. It’s almost time.”

Valkyrie looked up at the clear night, at the full moon. The Earth’s shadow had almost covered it.

“Can you feel it?” Vengeous asked. “The world is about to change.”

Valkyrie felt a hand close over her own and suddenly Sanguine was twisting and she went right over his shoulder, landing in a tumble, the straight razor gone from her grip. She turned, ready to defend herself, but Sanguine took a look at the situation and then looked back at her, folded the razor into his pocket and sank through the ground.

Vengeous smiled at her then looked down at Skulduggery. “The eclipse is almost upon us, abomination. The Faceless Ones are coming. Everything I have planned, everything I have dreamed of, is being realised. You have failed.”

“Not yet I haven’t,” Skulduggery muttered.

“What are you going to do?” Vengeous mocked. “Have you a clever surprise in store for me, up your sleeve? Be careful now, you only have one left.”

“Then for my next trick,” Skulduggery said and then faltered. “Ah, sod it, I couldn’t be bothered thinking up something smart to say. Valkyrie.”

Valkyrie clicked her fingers and hurled a fireball. It struck Vengeous in the chest, and the clothes he wore under the armour were set alight. Vengeous cursed and used the shadows to douse the flames. The revolver skimmed across the ground into Skulduggery’s left hand and he fired.

The cutlass fell. Blood started to trickle from Vengeous’s burnt chest. Vengeous could only stare down into Skulduggery’s empty eye-sockets.

“But … but this isn’t how I’m supposed to die,” he said weakly. “Not … like this. Not by your hand. You’re … you’re an abomination.”

“I’m a lot of things,” Skulduggery said and dropped his gun.

Vengeous staggered back. He saw Valkyrie, reached for her. There was no strength in his grip. She pushed him and he fell.

Vengeous crawled to the Grotesquery. “Tell them I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve failed them …”

The Grotesquery moved its hand so that it touched Vengeous’s face. It looked almost tender, until the hand gripped and wrenched and the Baron’s head snapped to one side. The Grotesquery let go and the body crumpled.

The Grotesquery struggled to its feet. The last of the moon’s brightness slipped into shadow. The Grotesquery stood, and although it looked unsteady, it didn’t fall.

Skulduggery tried to rise, but couldn’t. He snapped his fingers but no spark came. “Fireball,” he said to Valkyrie. His voice was strained, sounded weak. “Shoot a fireball into the sky. It’s our last chance.”

She frowned, not understanding the request, but obeying nonetheless. Her thumb pressed to her index finger and they slid off each other with a click. The friction made a spark, she caught the spark in the palm of her hand and then it was a flame. She poured her energy into it, made the flame bigger, dipped her shoulder for the wind up and then threw. The fireball went straight up into the night, burning brightest at its peak, and then faded to nothing. She looked back at Skulduggery.

“That should do it,” he mumbled and let himself collapse.

“What do I do now?” she asked, but he didn’t answer.

She picked up Tanith’s sword and looked over at the Grotesquery.

“Hey,” she said. It turned to her and her mouth went dry. Everyone else had fallen. She was on her own.

“I overestimated you,” a voice said and Valkyrie turned. The Torment approached, stepping over the prone bodies of the Cleavers. “I overestimated all of you. I thought you’d be able to manage this on your own.”

The fireball. It must have been a signal, calling upon the last piece of back-up they had. Valkyrie briefly wondered what Skulduggery had had to agree to in order to enlist the Torment’s services. She was pretty sure it wasn’t anything cheerful.

“Leave,” the old man said. “I don’t like being this close to you. Leave me to take care of this creature.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Valkyrie said, her words scraping from her throat.

“Then stand aside,” he snapped, “and allow me to clean up your mess.”

“My mess?”

“This monstrosity would not be alive if it wasn’t for you and the blood that is in your veins. Your very existence is a threat to every living thing on this world.”

It was an argument she didn’t have the time nor the inclination to win, so Valkyrie backed off. She watched as the inky liquid leaked from the old man’s eyes and ears and nose and mouth. She watched his arms and legs turn black and grow long, and the spider legs burst through his already-ripped shirt. She watched an eye open in the middle of his forehead and his torso lift off the ground, and she watched the Torment-spider look down at the Grotesquery with a pitiless gaze.

“Hello, monster,” he said and vomited blackness.

The blackness hit the Grotesquery and it stumbled as the blackness grew and became spiders. The Grotesquery reeled, spiders all over its body, attacking as one.

The Grotesquery caught one of the spiders in its massive right hand and squeezed, the spider burst. The Torment-spider scuttled after it, swiping with his front leg, catching the Grotesquery across the back. The Grotesquery hit the ground, bursting the spiders beneath it, and the Torment-spider stabbed downwards. The tips of two legs pierced the Grotesquery, pinning it where it lay.

And then it vanished and the air above the Torment-spider opened up. The Grotesquery dropped on to the Torment-spider’s back. The Torment-spider reared up, trying to dislodge his attacker, but the Grotesquery had him in its grip now. Valkyrie saw the stinger dart out, but its point had been severed and it rebounded uselessly off the Torment-spider’s armour plates.

The Torment-spider was cursing, the panic turning the curses into shrieks. The Grotesquery’s right arm unravelled, the strands wrapping around his throat, pulling him back, making him rear up higher. The Torment-spider stumbled over the bodies of the Cleavers and the Grotesquery yanked back hard, and he tipped over. He landed on his back, his eight legs kicking in the air. The Grotesquery was slow to get up, but it was getting up nevertheless. The Torment-spider, however, was unable to roll on to its side.

“Help me!” the Torment-spider screeched.

Valkyrie felt the sword in her hand. If she could get to the Grotesquery before it stood, she might have a chance. But her legs wouldn’t move.

The Torment was shrinking. His spider legs were retracting into his body, his own arms and legs reforming, the blackness absorbed through the pores of his skin. Valkyrie watched the race between the Torment, trying to reassert his human guise in order to get up, and the Grotesquery, who was now on one knee and struggling to stand.

The Grotesquery won the race by three seconds. It looked down at the Torment, now a pale and weak old man, helpless at its feet. Its huge right hand reached down, picked the old man up by his long hair, held him off the ground. The Torment moaned in pain.

Valkyrie looked down at her leg and willed it to move. One step. All she needed was to take one step, the first step, and the rest would take of itself.

Her leg moved. She took the step. The Grotesquery swung its arm and Valkyrie heard a tearing noise and the Torment was flung away.

The Grotesquery dropped the piece of scalp in its hand, turning to Valkyrie as she lunged, swinging the sword and cutting into its left arm. It grabbed for her but she ducked under and spun, using the sword the way Tanith had shown her, and the blade found the Grotesquery’s side and opened it up.

Valkyrie skipped back, holding the sword in both hands, her eyes on the wound she’d just inflicted. She watched the parted skin try to reform, try to heal, then stop altogether.

The Grotesquery growled. Its right arm unravelled and came at her. One of the strips wrapped itself around her ankle and yanked her off her feet. She fell and the other strips darted at her. A talon ripped open her cheek and she felt her own warm blood splash across her face.

She reached forward and the sword sheared through the strip around her ankle. The Grotesquery recoiled, the strips snapping back, trying to reform the arm. The middle finger was missing.

Valkyrie jumped up, swinging the sword diagonally across the Grotesquery’s chest, lopping off sections of splayed ribcage. Another swipe took the Grotesquery’s left hand. It fell to the ground.

The Grotesquery backed off, flailing at her to keep her away. She waited for her chance and dived. The sword slid between the damaged ribcage and the Grotesquery stiffened. Valkyrie gripped the hilt with both hands and angled it downwards, towards its heart, and she rammed it in deeper and twisted. The Grotesquery screamed.

The scream hit her like a fist and darkness poured from the Grotesquery’s injuries. It slipped into her and her legs gave out and she collapsed. She felt the darkness move within her, racking her body with pain. Her spine arched. Images flashed into her head, images of the last time she had felt such agony. Serpine, pointing at her, his green eyes starting to fade, his body turning to dust.

Her muscles started to spasm and she retched and gagged and tried to cry. And then the darkness left her and she opened her eyes, tears blurring her vision, watching the darkness rise from her, rise into the air and dissipate. She gulped in a breath.

“Are you OK?” she heard Skulduggery ask from somewhere far in the distance.

She raised her head. The Grotesquery was on the ground, unmoving. Little pieces of darkness still drifted from its body. She rolled over, up on to her elbow. “Ow,” she groaned. “That was sore.”

Skulduggery walked over slowly. He had picked up his severed arm and was now holding it out to her.

“Here,” he said. “Let me give you a hand.”

She decided not to respond to his terrible, terrible joke, and allowed herself to be helped to her feet. She touched a hand to her face, felt the blood that was still running from the wound. Her cheek was numb, but she knew that wouldn’t last. The pain was about to hit.

“We didn’t die,” she said.

“Of course not. I’m too clever to die and you’re too pretty.”

“I am pretty,” Valkyrie said, managing a grin.

“My, my,” said a familiar voice from behind them. They turned.

“Look at what you’ve done,” Sanguine said, shaking his head with mock severity. “You have foiled our insidious little plot. You have emerged triumphant and victorious. Curse you, do-gooders. Curse you.”

“You don’t seem too upset that you’ve lost,” Valkyrie said.

He laughed and took off his sunglasses. He started to clean them with a handkerchief. “What, you think this is over? You actually think this is finished? Li’l darlin’, it’s only just begun. But don’t fret, I’ll see you both again real soon. Y’all take care now, y’hear?”

He put the sunglasses back on as the ground beneath his feet started to crack, and as he sank down into it, he blew Valkyrie a kiss.

After a few moments, when they were sure he wasn’t going to pop back up, Skulduggery looked at her.

“So that plan worked out well,” he said.

“Skulduggery, your entire plan consisted of, and I quote, ‘let’s get up close and then see what happens’.”

“All the same,” he said, “I think the whole thing worked out rather beautifully.”