Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

to her for me.”

      The wall rumbled behind them, but they darted through the doorway before it closed up.

      “Nice try,” Valkyrie called back.

      The Phil Lynott figure shrugged, then looked down at the Administrator, and right before the door sealed, she heard it start to sing ‘Killer on the Loose’. Another one of her dad’s favourites.

      Skulduggery led the way down the stone staircase.

      “How are we going to get out again?” she asked. “The two of us walking around down here is going to look suspicious enough, but walking around while carrying the Grotesquery?”

      “We’re not coming back this way.”

      “But this is the only way in.”

      “But it’s not the only way out.”

      They slowed as they reached the bottom of the stairs, then entered the Foyer. Skulduggery walked calmly while Valkyrie’s knees shook. The Cleaver guards turned their heads, watching them as they walked through the nearest set of doors, but did not move to intercept.

      They walked side by side through the corridor, like they had every right to be there. They drew surprised looks from sorcerers, but nobody questioned their presence. They left the main corridor and walked deeper through the narrower ones, their footsteps picking up pace.

      They approached the Sanctuary Gaol, where some of the sickest criminals in the world were imprisoned. Skulduggery had told her about some of them. Serial killers, mass murderers, sociopaths and psychopaths of every description were kept in these cages. Valkyrie could almost feel the evil seeping out through the door like a cold damp, chilling her as she passed.

      Ahead of them was the Repository, the giant room that housed mystical and magical artefacts, including the remains of the Grotesquery. But today, unlike every other time Valkyrie had been here, there were two Cleavers standing guard at the double doors. Skulduggery and Valkyrie stepped into an adjoining corridor and stopped, just out of the Cleavers’ sight.

      “OK,” he said, “that’s good.”

      “It’s good? What’s good? What’s good about it?”

      “If the Cleavers are still guarding the room, it means the Grotesquery is still in there. We have a little time. So what we need now is a distraction.”

      “Maybe we should release one of the criminals from the Gaol and have them chase after him.”

      “Do you really want to release a magical serial killer back into the world?”

      “I was only joking,” she muttered defensively.

      He paused. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. But we don’t need anyone from the Gaol. They’re just too dangerous. Someone languishing in the holding cells, however, might be more suitable.”

      Valkyrie grinned. “See? Even my jokes are brilliant.”

      Skulduggery started walking and she struggled to keep up. “But won’t the cells be guarded by Cleavers too?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “After the events of the last two years – first Serpine’s attack on the Sanctuary, then taking down the Grotesquery – Cleaver numbers have been decimated. These days, Cleavers are being treated like the precious commodities they are, and used only where absolutely necessary.

      “For the minimum security holding cells, I doubt there’d be any Cleaver presence at all. We’ll probably encounter a Sanctuary agent, and if things go our way, the agent will know us and might even allow us our pick of the prisoners.”

      “When do things ever go our way?”

      “Think positive, that’s the spirit.”

      They reached the holding area without encountering anyone who realised they shouldn’t be there. The corridor became narrow, with steel doors on either side. A gangly young man with bright red hair stood up from behind his desk, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

      “You’re Skulduggery Pleasant,” he said.

      “Yes, I am. And this is my partner, Valkyrie Cain. And you are?”

      “My name is Staven Weeper. You’re not supposed to be here.”

      Skulduggery waved his hand airily. “We have full co-operation, don’t worry about that.”

      “The Grand Mage has warned us about you.”

      “You’re sure it was me he warned you about? Not someone else?”

      “You are not allowed to be here without supervision,” Weeper said, forcing some authority into his tone. “Who let you in?”

      “The door was open.”

      “I’m calling my superior.”

      Weeper reached for the button on the desk, but Skulduggery grabbed his wrist and twisted. Weeper howled in pain. Skulduggery moved around and slammed him against the wall.

      “Shackles,” he said. Valkyrie opened one of the desk drawers. Inside were half a dozen clear plastic bags containing the personal effects of the prisoners. She opened another drawer and found a pair of shiny new shackles that she tossed to Skulduggery. He cuffed Weeper’s hands behind his back and let him go.

      Weeper stumbled away, eyes wide. “You attacked me!”

      “We just want to borrow one of your prisoners,” Valkyrie assured him.

      “I can’t allow that to happen,” Weeper snarled, settling into a combat stance that Valkyrie had never seen before.

      She watched, wondering what martial art he knew that was good enough to make up for the fact that he couldn’t use his hands. She was expecting some jumping around, maybe a few flips and definitely a lot of kicking. What she witnessed was more along the lines of Weeper trying to butt his head into Skulduggery’s chest. He charged, Skulduggery stepped out of the way and Weeper hit his knee against the desk and fell to the ground in pain.

      “Keep an eye out,” Skulduggery said, hauling Weeper up and dragging him to the cells. He left him curled up against the wall, and moved to the first of the steel doors, opened the small latch and peered in. He closed the latch again and moved to the next door.

      Valkyrie stood at the corner, making sure they weren’t going to be interrupted. She glanced back to see Skulduggery guiding Weeper into a cell and then beckoning the prisoner out. Her gaze returned to the corridor. At the junction a sorcerer strode by, but didn’t look her way. She waited without breathing, but he didn’t reappear.

      The cell door closed and Valkyrie turned to see which prisoner Skulduggery had chosen. The prisoner, his hands shackled in front of him, glared at her defiantly. She knew him. He saw himself as the Killer Supreme, the man to make murder into an art form, even though he had yet to successfully kill anyone. The first time they’d met, he had tried to throw her off a building. He was not a very smart man.

      “We meet again,” Vaurien Scapegrace snarled.

      Valkyrie laughed.

      His snarl vanished and his shoulders sagged. “I wish, just once, people would see me and not laugh.”

      “Quiet now,” Skulduggery said, prodding him forward. Valkyrie did her best to stifle her grin as they headed back to the Repository.

      “I was framed,” Scapegrace said, walking slightly ahead of them. “I’ve been accused of a crime I didn’t commit. I shouldn’t even be here.”

      “That’s right,” Skulduggery said. “You should be in a proper prison for attempted murder.”

      “I broke out,” said Scapegrace with a shrug.

      “That’s not strictly true though, is it? To break out implies something dynamic and adventurous. You were being transported to another facility and they simply