Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 10 - 12. Derek Landy

back and forth, and Omen could tell he was annoyed. “Slick, you’re going to have to find a way to open this door, OK? I might be the one in the cell, but we’re both trapped here. You get me out, I find a way to get us off this rock. Think you can do that?”

      Omen nodded. “No.”

      Temper frowned. “No?”

      “I can’t do any of that stuff,” Omen blurted. “I can’t rescue you. I don’t know why I said I could. I just wanted to impress you. You seem cool and I want to be cool, too, so I said it, but I’ll make a mess of it. I’m already making a mess of it. My brother does the rescuing, not me. I haven’t had the practice. I don’t have the mindset. My uncle took me aside once and told me I was the worst. He didn’t even specify what I was the worst at. I think he just meant in general.”

      “Your uncle sounds like a piece of work, but you’ve got to get past that. Is he here right now? No. You are. You are here and you can do this.”

      “I can do this.”

      “No, you can’t,” said Immolation Joe.

      “Ignore him,” said Temper. “You can do this.”

      Omen bit his lip. “What if they see me?”

      “They’ll probably kill you. You ever have someone try to kill you before?”

      “Yes, actually. This morning.”

      “I knew it, just by looking at you. You’ve stared death in the face. That’s good. I have people trying to kill me all the time. Getting captured is actually kind of a luxury. What’s your name again?”

      “Omen.”

      Temper nodded. “OK, Omen, find a way to get me out of here. I’m counting on you.”

      Omen didn’t know whether he should salute or not, so he just gave a small wave and hurried round the corner. The first thing he saw was a control panel on the wall. He stepped backwards.

      “There’s a panel here,” he said. “Lots of numbered buttons with little lights, but only two lights are on. You think they open the cells?”

      “I knew I could count on you,” said Temper. “Get me out of here, Omen.”

      Grinning, Omen jabbed at one of the buttons and the corresponding light went off as he heard a click. He looked back as the cell door swung open, and Immolation Joe stepped out.

      “Aw,” said Omen.

      Immolation Joe clicked his fingers a few times. Sparks flew. Then his hands burst into flame. “Yesssss …” he said, gazing at the fire like he was in love.

      “Slick,” said Temper.

      Omen jabbed at the second button and Temper sprang out of his cell, his knee crashing into Immolation Joe’s chest. The convict reeled backwards and Temper slammed the door shut. It clicked and immediately the flames died in Joe’s hands.

      “I’ll kill you!” Immolation Joe screamed, grasping for them between the bars. “I’ll kill you both!”

      Temper ignored him, his eyes closed, savouring the magic that was flooding back into his system. Then he looked at Omen again and smiled, and held out his hand. “Nice going.”

      They shook.

      “Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”

      Smiling awkwardly at Immolation Joe, Omen followed Temper to a set of metal stairs. They went down. Footsteps approached and they flattened themselves against the wall. A man walked by. Didn’t see them. When he was gone, they continued onwards, passing through a heavy door that stood open. Leaving the cellblocks behind them, they jogged to the gate at the far end of an unmanned security checkpoint. There were about a dozen stairs beyond it, concrete, and they climbed them and found themselves in a large chamber with a desk and huge doors – the way out.

      Omen’s joy was somewhat diminished by the sight of Lethe standing there before them.

       37

      “I thought we had something,” Lethe said, strolling forward. “But the first chance you get to escape you just grab it with both hands, don’t you?”

      “It’d never have worked between us,” Temper said, backing up and keeping Omen behind him. “I’m too clingy.”

      Even though he couldn’t see Lethe’s eyes, Omen knew the man was looking at him.

      “And this must be the spy from the school,” Lethe said. “Skulduggery Pleasant’s secret weapon. I confess, I haven’t a clue who you are, but I don’t think it matters. Your career has come to a sharp and sudden stop, little spy.”

      “Really?” Temper asked. “You’re going to kill him? The kid doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t even know where he is right now. Let him go. I’ll take you on, I’ll give you a fight. But let him go, what do you say?”

      “You’ll give me a fight if I allow it,” Lethe said, “which I won’t. The only reason we haven’t killed you already is that we haven’t got around to it. I’m going to rectify that in a moment. The little spy can either watch and then die, or get the dying over with now. Little spy, which do you choose?”

      “I … um … I’ll watch Temper die first, please,” said Omen.

      “Thanks, slick,” Temper murmured, then addressed Lethe. “May I suggest we hurry this along? My rescue team will be here shortly.”

      “You mean to say it hasn’t arrived already?”

      Temper laughed. “You think the kid here is my rescue team? He’s just a cheeky little guy who sneaked out past his curfew. No, no – my rescue team is comprised of people you’ll probably have heard of. You want to know who’s coming next?”

      “I’m all ears.”

      Temper grinned. “Skulduggery Pleasant, Valkyrie Cain and a whole horde of Cleavers.”

      “That so?”

      “It is. Coming straight here.”

      “My, my,” said Lethe. “Sounds like I’m in trouble.”

      “Now, you’re good,” Temper said, “I’m not denying that. But Skulduggery? Skulduggery is—”

      “Ours,” said Lethe. “Skulduggery is ours, Mr Fray. You’ve been out of the loop, so I’m going to break this to you gently. My colleague, Mr Smoke, came into contact with your skeletal friend. Physical contact. And you know what happens once my colleague, Mr Smoke, comes into physical contact with someone, don’t you? You know that first-hand, am I correct?”

      Temper’s grin faded. “Bull.”

      “Not bull, Mr Fray.”

      “Smoke turned me, but he can’t turn Skulduggery. That stuff doesn’t work on him. His mind can’t be read, his—”

      “My colleague’s ability has nothing to do with the mind, Mr Fray, and it’s got everything to do with the soul. So I am in the unfortunate position of being the one to tell you that not only is your friend no longer your friend, but that this fictitious rescue team you have imagined coming to free you is … Well, it’s just not. So I’ll give you a moment to let that sink in.”

      Temper didn’t say anything in response.

      “Has it sunk in yet?” Lethe asked. “I think it has. By the look on your face, I think it has. Which brings us back to the act of killing you both. Now, I forget – little spy, did you say you wanted