Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3. Derek Landy

      “That’s something, at least.” The man shifted his focus to Stephanie. “I am Eachan Meritorious, Grand Mage of this Council. Beside me are Morwenna Crow and Sagacious Tome. Can I assume, because you have not yet picked a name, that you do not intend to involve yourself in our affairs for very much longer?”

      Stephanie’s throat was dry. “I’m not sure.”

      “See?” Skulduggery said. “Insubordinate.”

      “You have been placed in dangerous situations,” Meritorious continued. “Surely you would prefer to go back to the safety of your normal life?”

      “What’s so safe about it?”

      “Ah,” Skulduggery chimed in. “Rebellious.”

      “I mean,” Stephanie continued, “I could get knocked down crossing the road tomorrow. I could get mugged tonight. I could get sick next week. It’s not safe anywhere.”

      Meritorious raised an eyebrow. “While this is true, in your normal life you never had to deal with sorcerers and murder attempts.”

      The Elders were gazing at her with interest. “Maybe,” she admitted. “But I don’t think I can just forget about all this.”

      Skulduggery shook his head sadly. “Troublesome.”

      The woman, Morwenna Crow, took over. “Detective, you have petitioned the Council on numerous occasions concerning a supposed threat to the Truce.”

      “I have.”

      “And as yet you have failed to produce evidence.”

      “This girl standing beside me is my evidence,” Skulduggery said. “Twice she has been attacked and twice her attacker has been after a key.”

      “What key?” asked Sagacious Tome. Skulduggery hesitated.

      “Mr Pleasant?”

      “I believe the attacker’s master to be Serpine.”

      “What key, detective?”

      “If Serpine is ordering attacks on civilians, this is a clear breach of the Truce and the Council has no choice but to—”

      “The key, Mr Pleasant, what does it open?”

      Stephanie glanced at Skulduggery’s inscrutable visage and thought she could detect hints of frustration in the small movements he was making.

      “I believe the key will lead Serpine to the recovery of the Sceptre of the Ancients.”

      “I never know when you’re joking, Skulduggery,” Meritorious said, starting to smile.

      “I hear that a lot.”

      “You are aware that the Sceptre is a fable?”

      “I am aware that it is thought to be, yes. But I am also aware that Serpine has been working on tracking it down, and I believe Gordon Edgley may have had it.”

      “Nefarian Serpine is now an ally,” said Sagacious Tome. “We live in a time of peace.”

      “We live in a time of fear,” Skulduggery said, “where we’re too scared of upsetting the status quo to ask the questions we need to be asking.”

      “Skulduggery,” Meritorious said, “we all know what Serpine did; we all know the atrocities he has committed in the name of his master Mevolent, and for his own gains. But for as long as the Truce holds, we cannot act against him without good cause.”

      “He has ordered the attacks on my companion.”

      “You have no proof.”

      “He murdered Gordon Edgley!”

      “But you have no proof.”

      “He is after the Sceptre!”

      “Which doesn’t even exist.” Meritorious shook his head sadly. “I am sorry, Skulduggery. There is nothing we can do.”

      “As for the girl,” said Morwenna, “we had hoped her involvement in all this would be minimal.”

      “She’s not going to tell anyone,” Skulduggery said quietly.

      “Maybe so, but if she takes one more step deeper into our world, it may be impossible for her to step out again. We want you to consider this carefully, detective. Consider what it would mean.”

      Skulduggery gave a slight nod of acknowledgement but said nothing.

      “Thank you for agreeing to meet us,” Meritorious said. “You may leave.” Skulduggery turned and walked out, Stephanie right behind him. The Administrator hurried over.

      “I know the way out,” Skulduggery growled and the Administrator backed off. They passed the Cleavers, standing as still as the wax models above them, and climbed the staircase out of the Sanctuary. Skulduggery donned his disguise and they walked back to the Canary Car in silence. They had almost reached it when he stopped and turned his head.

      “What’s wrong?” Stephanie asked.

      He didn’t answer. She couldn’t see anything beneath his disguise. Stephanie looked around, paranoid. It appeared to be a normal street, populated by normal people doing normal things. Granted, the street had potholes and the people were scruffy, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. And then she saw him, a tall man, broad and bald, his age impossible to gauge. He walked towards them like he had all the time in the world, and Stephanie stood by Skulduggery and waited.

      “Mr Pleasant,” the man said when he had reached them.

      “Mr Bliss,” Skulduggery responded.

      Stephanie looked at this man. He radiated power. His pale blue eyes settled on her.

      “And you must be the girl who attracts all sorts of attention.”

      Stephanie couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what she would have said, but she did know that her voice would have been thin and reedy if she tried. There was something about Mr Bliss that made her want to curl up and cry.

      “I haven’t seen you in a while,” Skulduggery said. “I heard you’d retired.”

      There was something peaceful about Mr Bliss’s eyes, but it wasn’t the calming kind of peaceful. It wasn’t a peaceful that comforted you and made you feel safe. It was another kind of peaceful, the kind that promised you no more pain, no more joy, no more anything. Looking at him was like looking into a void with no beginning and no ending. Oblivion.

      “The Elders asked me to return,” Mr Bliss said. “These are troubling times, after all.”

      “Is that so?”

      “The two men who had Serpine under surveillance were found dead a few days ago. He is up to something, something he doesn’t want the Elders to know about.”

      Skulduggery paused. “Why didn’t Meritorious tell me this?”

      “The Truce is a house of cards, Mr Pleasant. If it is disturbed, it will all come down. And you are known for your disturbances. The Elders hoped my involvement would be enough of a deterrent, but I fear they have underestimated Serpine’s ambition. They refuse to believe that anyone would benefit from war. And, of course, they still think the Sceptre of the Ancients is a fairy tale.”

      Skulduggery’s voice changed, but only slightly. “You think the Sceptre’s real?”

      “Oh, I know it is. Whether it can do everything the legends claim, that I do not know, but as an object, the Sceptre is quite real. It was uncovered during a recent archaeological dig. As I understand it, Gordon Edgley had been searching for the Sceptre for some time, as part of his research for a book about the Faceless Ones, and he paid a substantial amount of money to gain possession of