Armageddon Outta Here - The World of Skulduggery Pleasant (28 page)

ith Skulduggery’s guidance, Ryan dismantled the Doomsday Machine. He rendered each and every part of it inert. When it was done, when the last piece was made useless, his hand started to burn. He hissed, looked at his palm, and the imprint faded to nothing.

“Well done, Ryan,” Skulduggery said. “You saved the world.”

“You knew exactly what to do,” Ryan said. “You
did
know how to dismantle it after all.”

“I’m glad you got that impression,” Skulduggery said kindly. “But really I could have just as easily killed us all. Still, it’s better than waiting around for the experts, isn’t it?”

He took a set of handcuffs from his belt and went to shackle the unconscious prisoners, leaving Ryan and Valkyrie alone.

“How long do I have?” Ryan asked.

Valkyrie hesitated. “Skulduggery said… he said that as soon as this was over, one way or the other, Deacon’s personality would start to reassert itself.”

“So I don’t have long,” Ryan said quietly.

“I’m… I’m afraid not.”

Ryan nodded. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t trust his voice not to break.

“You probably saved my life back there,” Valkyrie said. “That was a very brave thing you did.”

Ryan managed a smile. “Maybe it’s something you’ll remember me for.”

“I definitely think so.”

“I don’t feel very brave right now. To be honest, I kind of feel like crying.”

Valkyrie’s hand rested on his shoulder.

“I really don’t want to die,” Ryan said. He was crying now. He didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was that in a few moments he wouldn’t be here any more. He wouldn’t exist. They’d stopped Foe and the others from destroying the world, but Ryan’s world was ending just the same. “It’s not fair. How come Deacon gets to live and I don’t?”

“I don’t know,” Valkyrie said softly.

“Isn’t there anything you can do? Maybe Skulduggery can do something? Maybe he knows someone who can, who can block Deacon from coming back or…”

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” Valkyrie said. She was crying, too. This pretty girl with the single dimple when she smiled, she was crying for him. This pretty girl who would never go out with a guy like Ryan, not in a million years, was sitting here with her arm round him, and they were crying together.

He fought to control his sobs. When he could speak, he spoke quietly. “Could I have that kiss now?”

She looked at him. “Definitely,” she said, and leaned in. He turned his head slightly, didn’t know if he should close his eyes or keep them open, but when their lips met his eyes closed. His first kiss in fifteen years of false memories. His only kiss in fifteen hours of real life.

They parted. His head was clouded. His thoughts were fuzzy.

“I really like you, Valkyrie,” he managed to mumble.

“I really like you, Ryan,” she said back to him.

Ryan smiled and tried to kiss her again, this pretty girl with the dimple, what was her name again, Valkyrie, that was it, seventeen years old and cute as a button, the kind of girl who had never even noticed Deacon when he was that age. He grinned and leaned in and felt her hand against his chest, keeping him back, and then her eyes were narrowing.

“Ryan?”

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be,” Deacon said, and she hit him so hard the whole world spun.

She stood over him. “Get rid of that face,” she said. “Stop using Ryan’s face right now or I swear to God I’ll batter you.”

“OK!” he cried. “Just don’t hit me again!”

Deacon got to his feet, his jaw aching. “Ain’t that something?” he muttered, and at those words, the image around him flickered and withdrew, and suddenly he was back to his old self again.

Valkyrie’s eyes sparkled with tears. She was looking at him like she was going to hit him again anyway.

“I just want to thank you,” he said before she did. “I was in a serious bind and you, you came in and you really helped me. I was in over my head, I don’t mind admitting it. If it makes any difference, I never intended for the Machine to end up in enemy hands. The moment I sold the key, I was going to alert the Sanctuary and get an army of Cleavers in here to—”

“You risked the lives of everyone on the
planet
,” Valkyrie said, her voice tight.

“I did,” he said, nodding sadly, “and I truly regret that. It was stupid. It was short-sighted, and selfish. If I knew then what I know now, I would never have tried it. But we all make mistakes, isn’t that right? And I made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake that could have had untold consequences for—”

He didn’t even see the punch. He saw her shoulder shift and then he was toppling backwards. He hit the ground and his face felt three sizes too big. Good
God
, she hit hard.

“You better get up,” she said, standing over him. “The Cleavers are coming, and if you’re here when they arrive, you’ll get arrested, too.”

He blinked. “You’re letting me go?”

“We’re letting
Ryan
go,” Skulduggery Pleasant said, walking up behind her. “Ryan was a friend of ours. He deserved better than to be you, Deacon.”

“I know he did,” Deacon said, rising slowly to his feet for the second time in the last sixty seconds. “I only hope I can make it up to him somehow, maybe by being a better person, by treating people with the same kind of—”

“If you want me to hit you again, you’ll keep talking like that,” Valkyrie said.

Deacon shut up. If looks could kill, he’d be skewered. “I know I did wrong,” he said, hanging his head. “I know I did. And I’ve already paid for it. My brother. My poor brother Dafydd. Foe thought Dafydd was me. He chased him and Dafydd… Dafydd fell into that wood chipper. He was always the clumsy one, was Dafydd. So, so clumsy…”

Valkyrie shoved him to get his attention, and when he looked up she leaned in. “If we ever hear of you doing something like that again, creating an innocent person just so you can hide behind them…”

Deacon held up his hands. “I won’t, I swear. I’ve learned my lesson. I was greedy, and selfish. But now I see that it was wrong to—”

“We don’t care,” Skulduggery said. “Run away before I shoot you.”

Deacon nodded, and started walking.

“He said
run
,” Valkyrie snarled, and Deacon did just that.

anith wiped the blood off the carving knife and, ignoring the body of the man she had just stabbed to death, went back to carving her jack-o’-lantern.

Her skill with a blade always came in useful this time of year. While other people would be satisfied with triangular eyes and jagged teeth, Tanith transformed her Halloween pumpkins into works of slowly rotting art. Tonight she was carving a portrait of her dear friend and object of worship Valkyrie Cain. By all accounts, poor Valkyrie still refused to embrace her destiny as destroyer of the world, but Tanith could forgive her this little moment of self-doubt. After all, if Tanith herself hadn’t been corrupted by a Remnant, then she would have been
helping
Val run from the inevitable.

It was the Remnant inside her, the thing of cruelty and nastiness, that had shared with Tanith this vision of the future, when Valkyrie would become Darquesse and burn all life to a cinder. It had been a glorious revelation, one that had spurred Tanith on to schemes and plans she had never before thought herself capable of. But the fact was there were no more Remnants out there. Her kith and kin were all trapped and locked away and hidden from her – so Tanith was on her own. More or less. She had a Texan psychopath who was besotted with her, and there were times when he certainly did come in useful. But she didn’t love him. Her love was reserved for Darquesse, and Darquesse alone.

She put down the carving knife and picked up a candle, placed it carefully inside the jack-o’-lantern. She lit it and stepped back. It was a good likeness. No, it was a
great
likeness. Valkyrie was such a pretty girl, and Tanith had to resist the urge to take a picture and send it to her. But she knew that Valkyrie would only tell Skulduggery, and Skulduggery would trace the picture back here to this small town in Ohio, and suddenly there’d be Cleavers, Cleavers everywhere. It was all so unfair. All Tanith wanted to do was protect Darquesse from the people who were planning on harming her, after all. She was on Valkyrie’s side, in a way. Why couldn’t Val see that?

Headlights looped in around the room, and Tanith went to the window, looked out. A battered old car lurched to a stop outside the house next door, and a shabby, middle-aged man climbed out. As she watched him hitch his trousers higher round his waist, Tanith made sure to keep her mind calm and free of violent thoughts. There were Sensitives who could pick up feelings of hostility and, while she didn’t know if Jerry Ordain was one of them, she couldn’t take the chance. There was too much riding on tonight to risk a stray thought at the wrong time. The fact that he came home at all meant that he hadn’t foreseen tonight’s events, and that was a promising start.

Of course, it was entirely possible that Jerry knew full well she was there, and he had a trap waiting for her the moment she made a move. That was the trouble with Sensitives – it was very hard to sneak up on them.

She took her sword from the table and left through the back door. She sprang lightly over the fence, landed without a sound in Jerry’s yard as lights flicked on in the house. She crept to the window. No sign of an ambush. She saw Jerry ambling into the kitchenette. If he sensed her watching him, he gave no sign.

Taking a breath, Tanith moved to the door and rested her hand against the lock. It clicked open and she moved in silently. Jerry was a bachelor and lived like it. The house smelled of dust and old socks. She slid her sword from its scabbard and walked up the wall. Those floorboards were old and she didn’t trust them not to creak. She crept upside down along the ceiling, careful not to disturb the bulb as she passed it or cast her shadow on to her target. Jerry had his back to her, and was making himself a massive sandwich. She reached the far wall and walked down until she was standing normally again. He still didn’t turn round. She took out her phone, sent a text. A few moments later, Billy-Ray Sanguine rose up from the floor beside her.

They waited for Jerry to sense the hostility that only a psychopath of Sanguine’s stature could radiate – the kind of hostility that he could never conceal, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, Jerry continued making his sandwich. Tanith was impressed at how cool and collected he was. It was almost as if he wasn’t even aware of their presence. Jerry started humming to himself, and Sanguine looked at her. She frowned back. Now it
really
seemed like he wasn’t aware of their presence.