Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3. Derek Landy

it.”

      Stephanie hesitated, then did as he said and reached out, touching her fingers lightly against the mirror. But when she pulled back, her reflection did not. She watched in amazement as her reflection blinked, as if awakening from a trance, then dropped its arm to its side and looked around. Then, very slowly, it stepped out through the mirror.

      “Oh my God…” Stephanie said, moving back as the reflection joined her in the room. “Oh my God,” she said again, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

      Skulduggery looked on from the window. “It will carry on with your life while you’re away, so you won’t be missed.”

      Stephanie stared. “She’s me.”

      “Not she, it. And it isn’t you, it’s a surface copy. It walks like you, talks like you, behaves like you, and it should be enough to fool your parents and anyone else it comes into contact with. When you return, it goes back into the mirror and the experiences and the memories it has made transfer to you.”

      “So… so I can be in two places at once?”

      “Precisely. It can’t spend too long in other people’s company or they’ll start to notice that things aren’t quite right, and it would never fool a mage, but it is ideal for your needs.”

      “Wow.” Stephanie peered closer at the reflection. “Say something.”

      The reflection looked back at her. “What do you want me to say?”

      Stephanie laughed suddenly, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “You sound just like me,” she said through her fingers.

      “I know.”

      “Do you have a name?”

      “My name is Stephanie.”

      “No, a name of your own.”

      Skulduggery shook his head. “Remember, it’s not a real person. It has no thoughts or feelings of its own: they’re all imitations of yours. It’s your reflection – that’s all it is. Operating instructions are as follows: it cannot change out of the clothes you’re wearing when you cast it, so make sure you’re not wearing anything with a logo or insignia. They’ll come out backwards. Make sure you’re not wearing a watch or a ring – they’ll appear on the opposite hand. Apart from that, it’s pretty simple.”

      “Wow.”

      “We should go.”

      She turned to him, frowning. “Are you sure they won’t realise it’s not me?”

      “It’ll stay out of other people’s way for most of the time and try to avoid any long conversations. Even if your parents corner it and bombard it with questions, they’ll just think you’re acting strange.”

      Stephanie chewed her lip then shrugged. “I suppose jumping to the conclusion that it’s my reflection come to life is a bit unlikely.”

      “You’d be surprised by how many things we get away with that fall into the category of ‘unlikely’. You ready to go?”

      “I suppose I am.”

      “Do you want to leave by door or window?”

      “Doors are for people with no imagination,” Stephanie grinned and joined Skulduggery on the window sill. She took one look back. The reflection was standing in the middle of the room, perfectly still.

      “Bye,” Stephanie said.

      “Bye,” the reflection responded and tried a smile for the first time. It looked kind of eerie.

      Stephanie climbed out and hung on to Skulduggery as he jumped, displacing the air beneath them to act as a cushion. They landed gently and made it to the end of the road without any neighbours seeing them, but when they reached the pier, Stephanie’s face fell. She stared in horror as Skulduggery marched onwards.

      “What the hell is that?” she demanded.

      “It’s my car,” Skulduggery answered, leaning against it with his arms folded. The sea breeze ruffled his wig beneath his hat.

      She stared at him, at the car, and then at him again.

      “What happened to the Bentley?” she asked.

      His head tilted. “I don’t know if you noticed, but it was ever-so-slightly dinged.”

      “And where is it now?”

      “It’s getting fixed.”

      “Right. That’s a good answer. Fixed is a good answer. But I don’t know, I’m kind of drawn back to my original question. What the hell is that?”

      Skulduggery was leaning against a canary yellow hatchback with lime-green seat covers.

      “It’s my replacement car,” he said proudly.

      “It’s hideous!”

      “I don’t mind it actually.”

      “Well, you’re wearing a disguise, so no one will recognise you anyway!”

      “That may have something to do with it…”

      “When will the Bentley be fixed?”

      “That’s the nice thing about living in a world of magic and wonder, even our most extreme car repairs happen in less than a week.”

      Stephanie glared at him. “A week?”

      “Not a week,” he said quickly. “Six days. Sometimes five. Definitely four. I’ll call him, tell him I’ll pay the extra…” She was still glaring.

      “Day after tomorrow,” he said quietly.

      Her shoulders sagged. “Do we really have to ride around in this?”

      “Think of it as an adventure,” he said brightly.

      “Why should I do that?”

      “Because if you don’t you’ll just become really really depressed. Trust me. Now hop in!”

      Skulduggery hopped in. Stephanie dragged her feet around to the other side and more kind of fell in. She squirmed down in the lime-green seat as much as she could as they drove through Haggard. There was a parcel in the back seat, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. Beside that was a black bag.

      “Is that the gear for breaking into the Vault?” she asked. “Is that where we’re going?”

      “Well, to answer your first question first, yes. That bag contains all the equipment needed for a beautifully executed break-in. To answer your second question, no, that is not where we’re going. Before I get to introduce you to a life of crime, I get to introduce you to the Elder Mages.”

      “Crime sounds more fun.”

      “As indeed it is, though I would never condone crime in any of its forms. Except when I do it, naturally.”

      “Naturally. So why are we delaying the fun? What do these Elder Mages want?”

      “They’ve heard that I’ve been dragging a perfectly nice young lady into all manner of trouble and they want to admonish me for it.”

      “Tell them it’s none of their business.”

      “Well, while I do admire your moxie…”

      “What’s moxie?”

      “… I’m afraid that won’t work too well with these fellows. One thing you have to remember about the Elder Mages is that they’re—”

      “Really old sorcerers?”

      “Well, yes.”

      “Worked that out all by