Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

stared up at the ceiling. He could see the cracks, even in the dark. Tanith stepped into view, looking down at him.

      “You ready for your nice warm cell now?”

      Jack whimpered.

      

      alkyrie woke early. She took a pebble from her bedside table and sat on the floor, cross-legged. The pebble was flat and smooth in her hand. She focused on it like Skulduggery had taught her. She focused until she could feel the air on her skin, and she focused on how it all connected. Slowly, the pebble began to rise off her palm, held aloft by the air itself. A part of her still thrilled to see this, but she kept that part of her subdued. To use magic, she couldn’t afford to let anything ruin her calm.

      And then that voice, drifting up the stairs like the whine of a dentist’s drill, and the pebble fell back into her hand. Muttering to herself, Valkyrie stood up and walked into the bathroom, her practice done for the day. She took a shower then pulled on her school uniform before heading down to the kitchen.

      Her mother was there, and sitting beside her was Valkyrie’s shrill, sharp-featured aunt, Beryl.

      “Morning,” Valkyrie said as she passed them, going straight for the cupboard.

      “Hi, love,” her mother said.

      “Good morning, Stephanie,” Beryl said primly.

      “Beryl,” Valkyrie said in greeting.

      “How is school going for you?”

      Valkyrie poured some cereal into her bowl and added milk. She didn’t bother sitting. “It’s OK.”

      “Are you studying hard? My girls are always studying. They get it from my side of the family, I have to say. It’s a valuable work ethic I’ve instilled in them.”

      Valkyrie murmured and scooped a spoonful of cereal into her mouth, doubting the validity of just about everything Beryl had just said. Her aunt didn’t like her and Valkyrie didn’t like her aunt. Her aunt didn’t like her because Valkyrie had inherited her late uncle’s estate, and Valkyrie didn’t like her aunt, or her aunt’s husband Fergus, because they were dislikeable people.

      Her father came in, dressed in smart trousers, vest and a tie around his bare neck. He winked at Valkyrie then noticed his sister-in-law.

      “Beryl,” he said, utterly failing to hide his dismay.

      “Desmond, good morning.”

      “Beryl, what are you doing here? It’s not even 8 o’clock. You know I don’t like seeing you before I’ve had my first cup of coffee.”

      Beryl laughed that hideous fake laugh of hers. “Oh Desmond, you’re such a messer! I’m just here to talk to Melissa, that’s all. We’ve got a lot to organise for tomorrow night.”

      “Oh, dear God, the family reunion thing.”

      “It’ll be wonderful!”

      “But you’ll be there,” her dad said, puzzled, and Valkyrie nearly choked on her cereal.

      Her mum looked up at him. “You forgot your shirt.”

      “Oh, yes, the reason I’m here. I don’t have a clean one.”

      “Behind the door.”

      He turned, saw the crisp white shirt hanging on the coat hook and rubbed his hands together. He took it off the hook and put it on, sliding the collar up beneath the tie as he buttoned it. He didn’t like wearing ties – he owned a construction company so he’d always thought he’d be in work-boots and jeans. But every now and then he had to dress up and pretend – as he put it – to be civilised.

      “So Steph,” he said, “looking forward to a great day in school?”

      “Oh yes,” she said with mock enthusiasm.

      “What do you think you’ll learn today?”

      “I can’t begin to guess. Maybe how to subtract.”

      He waved his hand dismissively. “Subtraction’s overrated. It’s like adding, only backwards. You’re not ever going to need it.”

      “Desmond!” Beryl said sternly. “You shouldn’t take that attitude. Stephanie is at an easily-influenced age, and she needs to be taught that everything she learns in school is valuable. Joking around is all well and good, but some things just have to be taken seriously. How can you ever expect Stephanie to be responsible when all you ever do is set a bad example?”

      “I don’t know,” he answered. “Luck, I suppose.”

      Beryl sighed in exasperation and looked like she was about to give them a lecture. Valkyrie and her father both pounced on the same opportunity before Beryl could utter another word.

      “I’m going to school,” Valkyrie said quickly, shovelling the last spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

      “I’m going to work,” her dad said, only a millisecond behind.

      Valkyrie slipped her bowl into the dishwasher and made for the door.

      “But Desmond, you haven’t had any breakfast,” Valkyrie’s mother said with a frown.

      “I’ll get something on the way,” her father said, following her out. They got to the hallway and Valkyrie turned for the stairs as her dad picked his keys up off the small table. They looked at each other and nodded their silent goodbyes. Then they both smiled, and he walked out and she went to her room.

      Not for the first time, she wondered how her father would react if he knew that the family legends were true, that they were descended from the Ancients, that his grandfather and his late brother had been right. But she didn’t tell him. If he knew the truth, he’d try and stop her from going out every day, try to protect her from people like Serpine, and Vengeous, and whoever else wanted to kill her. Or worse, maybe he’d want to get involved. She didn’t think she’d be able to cope with her father putting himself in danger. She wanted her family to be normal. Normal was good. Normal was safe.

      She closed the door then took off her school jumper and dropped it on the bed. She touched her mirror and a moment later her reflection stepped out. She had forgotten about the logo rule once and the reflection had gone to school with the school crest on the wrong side and the school motto written backwards. Valkyrie hadn’t made that mistake again. She waited until her reflection had pulled on the jumper then handed it her schoolbag.

      “Have fun,” she said, and the reflection nodded and hurried out of the room.

      Not for the first time, Valkyrie grinned to herself. She’d hardly been to school since Skulduggery had worked his magic on that mirror, yet she was up to date on all the classes, all the gossip, all the day-to-day workings of an ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill thirteen year old. Without having to actually set foot through a classroom door.

      Sure, there were times when she wished she’d been there to experience something firsthand instead of reliving it through the reflection’s eyes. It wasn’t the same merely having the memories of, say, a joke being told, instead of actually having been around for the real thing. Just another price to pay, she reckoned.

      Moving quietly, Valkyrie took off the rest of her uniform, hid it under her bed and dressed in the black clothes that had been made especially for her. She’d grown a bit since Ghastly Bespoke had designed them, but they still fitted, and for that she was thankful. They had saved her life on more then one occasion, and it wasn’t as if she could ask Ghastly to make her any more. In a fight with the White Cleaver he had used the earth power as a last-ditch defence