Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

looked at Sanguine. “What are they planning?”

      “What’re who plannin’?”

      Ghastly tightened his grip and Sanguine spoke quickly. “They ain’t plannin’ nothin’! This is a straight trade!”

      “Ghastly, break his arm.”

      “Ghastly, do not break my arm!”

      “Do it.”

      “There’s a bomb!”

      Skulduggery leaned in. “Where?”

      “Guild’s jacket,” Sanguine said through gritted teeth. “He doesn’t even know it’s there. Gallow has the detonator. It’s a small bomb, but enough to kill everyone here. Me included. So if you could do me a favour and stop him from getting’ close, that’d be just swell.”

      Tanith looked back at the bridge. Fletcher and Guild had met in the middle and were passing each other without saying a word. Then Skulduggery was beside her, holding his gun out through the tent flap, pointed at Guild.

      “What are you doing?” Tanith asked, alarmed.

      “Stopping him from getting close,” Skulduggery said and fired.

      The bullet hit Guild’s leg and he went down, screaming. Fletcher jumped back.

      Horrified, Tanith grabbed Skulduggery’s arm. “Are you insane?”

      “Do not move!” Skulduggery shouted to Fletcher. “Stay beside him!” He shook Tanith’s hand off. “Gallow won’t detonate the bomb if Fletcher’s going to be caught in the blast.”

      There was movement at the far tent, Gruesome Krav emerging with Murder Rose, but before they could run at Fletcher, Skulduggery clicked his fingers and sent a fireball into the air. It cleared the cloaking bubble and flared before dying out. It drew some curious looks from passers-by, and Tanith saw three figures in black – two men and one woman – converging on the enemy’s tent from the other side of the bridge.

      The Necromancers.

      There was a burst of blackness in the far tent and Gallow came hurtling out. He hit Murder Rose and they both went down. The Necromancers strode on to the bridge after him, shadows curling around them.

      Gallow recovered quickly and pulled a gun from his jacket and fired. The nearest Necromancer used the shadows of her cloak to absorb the bullets, then spun, her cloak whirling and lengthening, slashing towards Gallow who had to dive to avoid being cut in two.

      Murder Rose ran at Solomon Wreath, who gathered darkness in his cane and whipped it. Shadows flew like spears, hit Rose’s leg and went right through. She shrieked and fell.

      Tanith saw the third Necromancer firing the flintlock pistol at Krav, firing it without the need to reload. The bullets hit and Krav dropped to one knee, frantically trying to pull away the darkness that spread across his chest.

      “Guess it’s time,” Sanguine said and Tanith looked around. He’d been holding something in his hand the entire time and no one had checked, and now it was dropping to the ground …

      It flashed white and Tanith stumbled back, blinded. She could hear the others cursing around her, and Sanguine laughed, for he didn’t have any eyes to blind.

      But then neither did Skulduggery.

      Sanguine’s laugh was cut off in a strangled gurk and Tanith heard a body crashing down. There was the thump of an impact and then she heard a pained wheezing. Someone charged by her, out of the tent, and there were gunshots and shouts.

      She blinked hard, images fading in, hazy and indistinct, but rapidly taking solid form. She saw a figure in brown, Sanguine, curled up on the ground, but Ghastly was a mere shape to her.

      “Skulduggery?” he called.

      “He’s gone after them,” Tanith told him. His features were too blurred to make out, but she was starting to see his ridged scars.

      “Typical,” she heard him mutter. “Can you see anything?”

      “Sure,” she lied, and grabbed her sword and lunged out, on to the bridge. Through the rain and the haze, she could just make out waves of darkness on the far side where the Necromancers were doing their thing.

      Skulduggery was ahead of her – tall and thin and unmistakable – and his arm moved and a figure that could only have been Krav went flying back.

      Her foot hit a step and she stumbled, but her vision was clearing fast. Ahead of her, Fletcher’s blurred form was kneeling at Guild’s side. Even with her eyes the way they were, she could see that Guild himself was pale and losing blood.

      She ran to them, hearing Ghastly behind her. The Diablerie were being fought to a standstill and the good guys were about to secure both Fletcher and Guild. The battle was over. They’d won.

      And then the final part of Batu’s plan made itself known.

      Something surged up from the river and loomed over the railings, splashing them with water. The Sea Hag dipped, her bony hands closing around Fletcher’s waist. Without even a snarl, she lifted him into the air. Guild tried to snatch him back, but it was no use. Tanith glimpsed Fletcher’s terrified face as he disappeared over the side, and she heard a heavy splash and knew he was gone.

      Gallow shouted an order and ran back through the far tent. He jumped into the jeep, Murder Rose right behind him, and the jeep screeched away, shunting cars out of its path. Skulduggery went for Krav, but it was too late. Krav pulled himself over the railings and dropped into the Liffey.

      Now, Tanith realised, the battle was over.

      The Necromancers looked at Skulduggery, and Solomon Wreath turned and walked away, his coat billowing in the wind and rain.

      Ghastly came up beside Tanith.

      “Sanguine’s gone,” he said, but she’d already guessed that. Guild lay unconscious, his blood mixing with the rainwater. They watched Skulduggery as he stood there, his suit soaked and his fists clenched. His glistening skull was lowered, held in a way Tanith was unused to. It was something like defeat. And then he straightened.

      “OK,” he said. “Looks like we have a fight on our hands.”

      

      alkyrie brushed the dried mud off the bottom of her jeans. Dust rose as muck fell and she brushed it off the bed.

      Scapegrace moaned, and she sat forward. He didn’t make another sound for a minute or so, and then he moaned again, and moved slightly. She watched him return to consciousness and prepared to spring into action.

      He raised his head, looked at the bandage that tied his broken fingers to the bedpost and made a sound like a particularly dim and miserable cat. He looked at the cell door, then swivelled his head and saw Valkyrie.

      “Oh, no,” he mewled.

      “If you move—” she began to threaten, but he interrupted her.

      “I’m not going to move,” he said. “I’m just going to lie here. I’m not going to do anything.”

      “Because if you do move …”

      “I’m not going to!” he insisted. “If I didn’t have a broken hand, then yes, I probably would move, and I’d probably try and kill you.”

      “No talking. Talking is not allowed.”

      He glared at her. “You know, every time I see you, you’re more and more like him.”

      “Like