Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

she is.”

      “If I started training now, would I be able to fight like her when I’m her age?”

      “I don’t see why not. Sixty years of good solid training is enough to turn anyone into a tidy little scrapper.”

      “What?”

      “What what?”

      “Sixty years? How old is she?”

      “I’d say seventy if she’s a day.”

      Stephanie stared. “Right,” she said firmly, “it’s time for you to tell me how you people live so long.”

      “Diet and exercise.”

      “Skulduggery—”

      “Clean healthy living.”

      “I swear…”

      “Magic then.”

      She looked at him. “Do all sorcerers live forever?”

      “Not forever, no. Not even close to forever. We do age, it’s just we do it slower then the rest of humanity. The regular use of a certain amount of magic rejuvenates the body, keeps it young.”

      “So if I started learning magic now, I’d stay twelve?”

      “It would take you a few years to reach the level where ageing slows, but yes, after that, you would stay young for a lot longer than is strictly fair. I know it’s impolite to discuss a lady’s age, but China is the same age as I am, and even I have to admit that she wears it better!” He laughed, then stopped and peered at her. “Because I’m a skeleton,” he explained.

      “Yes, I got it.”

      “You weren’t laughing.”

      “I didn’t think it was funny.”

      “Oh.”

      “So what are you going to do about her?”

      “China? There is nothing to do. She behaved exactly as I expected her to behave. The scorpion stings the fox because that is its nature. You can’t deny your nature.”

      “And what’s your nature?”

      His head tilted. “Odd question.”

      “China said some things about you. And Serpine. She said all you want is revenge.”

      “And you’re wondering how far I’ll go to get that revenge, is that it? You’re wondering how much I’m willing to sacrifice in order to make him pay for killing me all those years ago.”

      “Yes.”

      He paused a moment then slipped his hands into his pockets and spoke. “What China didn’t tell you, what I didn’t tell you, is that I was not the only one caught in Serpine’s trap.” Stephanie didn’t say anything. She waited for him to continue.

      “The trap was exquisite. A thing of beauty, it really was. You see, Valkyrie, a successful trap needs one important quality, the same quality any trick or illusion needs. Misdirection. When your attention is focused on one thing, something else is happening behind your back.

      “I didn’t even realise it was a trap until it was sprung. Serpine knew me, you see, and he knew how I’d react to certain stimuli. He knew, for instance, that if he murdered my wife and child right in front of me, I’d never even suspect that the handle of the dagger I reached for was dipped in poison.”

      Stephanie stared at him, but Skulduggery just looked out over the city.

      “I didn’t use magic, you see, and he knew I wouldn’t. He knew I’d be too angry, he knew my rage would fuel a physical attack, that I’d need to kill him up close and personal. And the moment my hand closed around that dagger, I realised my mistake. Of course, by then it was too late. I was helpless.

      “It took him a few days to finally kill me. I died hating him, and when I came back, the hatred came back with me.” He turned his head to her. “You asked me what is my nature? It is a dark and twisted thing.”

      “I don’t know what to say,” Stephanie said softly.

      “Not much you can say to a story like that, is there?”

      “Not really.”

      “Yep, I win on the ol’ dramatic story front every time.” They stood in silence for a while. Despite the warmth of the night it was chilly up there, but Stephanie didn’t mind.

      “What happens now?” she asked.

      “The Elders go to war. They’ll find the castle empty – Serpine wouldn’t stay there after this – so they’ll be looking for him. They’ll also be tracking down his old allies to make sure they don’t get the opportunity to organise.”

      “And what do we do?”

      “We get to the Sceptre before Serpine.”

      “The key,” she said, “where is it?”

      He turned to her. “Gordon hid it. Clever man, your uncle. He didn’t think anyone should have access to that weapon, but he hid the key in a place where if we truly needed to find it, if the situation got so dire that we truly needed the Sceptre, all it would take was a little detective work.”

      “So where is it?”

      “The piece of advice he gave me, in the solicitor’s office, do you remember what it was?”

      “He said a storm is coming.”

      “And he also said that sometimes the key to safe harbour is hidden from us and sometimes it is right before our eyes.”

      “He was talking about the key, literally? It’s right before our eyes?”

      “It was, when those words were first spoken in the solicitor’s office.”

      “Fedgewick has the key?”

      “Not Fedgewick. He gave it away.”

      Stephanie frowned, remembering the reading of the will then the lock in the cellar, no bigger than Skulduggery’s palm. She looked up at him. “Not the brooch?”

      “The brooch.”

      “Gordon gave the key, the key to the most powerful weapon in existence, to Fergus and Beryl?” she asked incredulously. “Why would he do that?”

      “Would you ever have thought to look for it with them?”

      She let the notion sink in then started to smile. “They were left the most valuable possession Gordon had and they didn’t even realise it.”

      “It’s actually quite amusing.”

      “It actually is.”

      “So now all we have to do is get it.”

      Stephanie smiled again and nodded, then her smile dropped and she shook her head vehemently. “I’m not getting it.”

      “You’re going to have to.”

      “No, I don’t.”

      “Just pay them a visit—”

      “Why can’t you break in? You broke into the Vault.”

      “That was different.”

      “Yes, it had alarms and vampires – this’ll be so much easier!”

      “There are times when extreme measures are unnecessary.”

      “Extreme measures are very necessary here!”

      “Valkyrie—”

      “You can’t ask me