Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 4 - 6. Derek Landy

She selected the biggest one.

      “I’d like to go for a walk,” Gordon announced when she arrived back. “I haven’t gone for a walk since…well, since I was alive really. I’ve almost forgotten what the outside looks like. Is it still green?”

      “It really depends where you are. Can you, like, actually go for a walk?”

      “Not on my own, but if you put the Echo Stone in your pocket, I can walk beside you. It’ll be fun. Do you remember the walks we used to take?”

      “Not especially.”

      “I can’t either,” he admitted. “I wasn’t really a walker when I was alive, was I? I was more of a sitter.” He smiled wistfully. “I did love to sit.”

      “I remember that.”

      “So? Can we go for a walk? Just around here. Not too far, I promise.”

      “I…I suppose we could. It can’t be for long though – we can only spend a few minutes here.”

      “We? Someone’s downstairs?”

      “Yeah, Fletcher.”

      “Oh! The mysterious Fletcher Renn!”

      Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”

      “Like what?”

      “Like you’re teasing me.”

      Gordon laughed. “If you take me for a walk, I promise I won’t tease you. He’s a Teleporter, isn’t he? Send him away for ten minutes. Or let’s just sneak out. I haven’t sneaked out of a window in over thirty years!”

      “I sneak out every day…OK, but just a short walk and I’m reading as we go.”

      Her uncle grinned. “Perfect.”

      They approached the wood on the east side of the house so Fletcher wouldn’t see them. It was a surprisingly lovely morning, the rain having taken a break for the day, and warm enough for Valkyrie to have her coat draped over her arm.

      “Towards the middle somewhere,” Gordon said, peering over her shoulder as she flicked through the notebook. “There! The next few pages contain everything I’ve ever heard about the Remnants. Some of it is anecdotal, some pure, hard fact. There’s more relevant information in those few pages than in any book you’re ever likely to read.”

      “I knew you’d have something useful.”

      He went back to looking around as they strolled, and took a huge breath and expelled it.

      “I don’t actually breathe,” he said happily, “but it’s a nice habit to have.”

      “I’ve always thought so,” she agreed, then glanced back at the footsteps in the lawn, at the blades of grass that were slowly springing back into shape. There were only her footsteps though. To the blades of grass and the world around then, Gordon was something less than even a ghost.

      He started naming the birds they heard in the trees, and she was pretty sure the last four or five were names he’d completely made up. Valkyrie didn’t mention it though.

      “What are you looking for?” he asked absently.

      “There’s a Remnant inside Kenspeckle Grouse and we want to get it out.”

      “Ah. You’ll need China Sorrows and her symbols, and a few other bits and pieces. How long has it been inside him? If it’s possessed him for more than four days, I’m afraid that means it has permanently grafted itself to its host. It couldn’t leave even if it wanted to.”

      “It hasn’t been four days.”

      “Well then, you should be fine. It’s all in those notes.” He looked up. “Do you hear that birdsong, the particularly sweet one? That’s a Wallowing Twite, if I’m not mistaken.”

      “Is there anything you don’t know, Gordon?” Valkyrie asked as she flicked through.

      “Nothing of any importance.”

      She sighed. “I can see why you and Skulduggery got along so well.”

      “Planet-sized egos do tend to form an orbit around each other. So what does that make you, I wonder?”

      “I have no ego.”

      “Then you’d probably be a moon.”

      “I’m not a moon.”

      “Maybe even a gaseous giant.”

      “And I’m not gaseous. I’m the sun, how about that? The pair of you can orbit around me for a change.” She closed the notebook. “Thanks for this, Gordon. I’ll come back when I actually have time for a chat, OK?”

      “I’ll look forward to it. Take care of yourself, Niece Number One.”

      “Always do.”

       41 THE EXORCISTS

      hey had Kenspeckle tied to a chair in the middle of the room. His wrists were shackled behind him, and Skulduggery was securing his arms and legs with a thick rope. Kenspeckle was grinning at them.

      The Remnant inside him wasn’t bothering to hide any more. Dark veins spread beneath Kenspeckle’s suddenly pale skin, turning his lips black and his gums grey.

      “You’ll never get him,” Kenspeckle said in a voice that was not his own. “He’s mine now and I’m not giving him back.”

      Skulduggery didn’t answer. Kenspeckle’s eyes flickered to Valkyrie and he leered at her. Spittle flecked his chin.

      “You’ll release me,” Kenspeckle said. “Won’t you? After everything I’ve done for you? All the times I’ve helped you?”

      “Kenspeckle helped me,” she said. “Not you.”

      “I am Kenspeckle,” he said with a little laugh. “I have all of his memories, don’t I? I might not be the Kenspeckle you knew, but I am Kenspeckle. Valkyrie, please. I’m your friend.”

      “We’re getting rid of you,” Valkyrie said. “There was barely enough room in Kenspeckle’s head for himself – there’s certainly no room for a lodger.”

      The smile turned to a growl. “I’m going to kill you.”

      “That’s enough,” said Skulduggery.

      “I’m going to kill all of you.”

      The door opened and China came in.

      “And here comes the witch,” Kenspeckle sneered. “Going to draw a little symbol, are you? You think that’ll force me out? It’ll never happen. I’m too strong. Too powerful.”

      China didn’t respond. She barely looked at him. Her students had been working in the room for hours before they’d even brought Kenspeckle in. Skulduggery nodded to her and she closed her eyes, and the symbols that had been drawn in the room earlier shimmered into view. Ornate signs and complicated sigils appeared on the walls, swept down to join the patterns on the floor and rose upwards and spread along the ceiling. Kenspeckle’s arrogance vanished.

      “This will kill him,” he said quickly. “You hear me? This will kill the old man.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous,” China told him. “The Mass Expulsion of 1892 left hundreds of people unconscious, not dead. Kenspeckle Grouse will wake up in a few minutes with a sore head and a gap in his memory, but you, my little friend, will be trapped in this.”

      Skulduggery showed him the Soul Catcher. For all its dreadful connotations, it reminded Valkyrie of nothing