Resurrection

My skills? Omen thought.

“My skills?” Omen said.

“Your brother has received the best combat training available anywhere since he was four years old. You help prepare him, don’t you?”

“I’ve … I’ve trained with him since we were kids, yes. What’s this about, please?”

They came forward. Omen had to resist the urge to step back.

“There is an organisation,” Skulduggery said, “which doesn’t have a name. We’ve been hearing rumours about it for years, an anti-Sanctuary, designed to sow the seeds of chaos and discord around the world and, ultimately, force a war between sorcerers and mortals – a war that sorcerers, presumably, would win, though not without heavy cost. We don’t know who’s in charge. We don’t know where it’s based. We don’t know how many agents it has or how powerful it may be. What we do know is that it’s been working behind the scenes for decades. We have had run-ins with only three people who we suspect were directly connected to it. The first was a man called Bubba Moon, who claimed to have been visited by a ‘being of wonderment and awe’, demanding blood sacrifice. The next two were a couple of killers with a mission to complete – Cadaverous Gant and Jeremiah Wallow.”

“What was their mission?” Omen asked.

“To kill me,” said Valkyrie.

“Oh.”

“Out of those three individuals,” Skulduggery continued, “all were American, and only Gant is alive and at large. Whether their nationality is a coincidence or means something more, I can’t say yet. In the last three years, however, the rumours I’ve been hearing have intensified. Apparently, the anti-Sanctuary is now operating out of Roarhaven.”

“OK.” Omen tried smiling again. “I still don’t know what you want with me, though.”

“An associate of mine went undercover,” Skulduggery said. “Temper Fray. He infiltrated a group of sorcerers who talk about mortals like they’re vermin. He befriended them, and started giving me names. Melior. Smoke. Lethe. Then he disappeared.”

Omen stared. “Is he dead?”

Skulduggery tilted his head. “Hopefully not. Before he vanished, Temper became convinced that the anti-Sanctuary had someone inside Corrival Academy recruiting young and impressionable students.”

“Oh my God,” said Omen. “You want me to go undercover.”

“Yes.”

“Even though the last person you sent undercover got killed.”

“Temper might still be alive,” Skulduggery said, sounding irritated.

“Oh, right, yes, of course. Sorry. But you do want me to go undercover, yes?”

“That’s correct.”

Omen looked at them both, and completely failed to stop the stupid grin from crawling across his face.

“Dear God,” Skulduggery said. “You look demented.”

“I’m just really excited.”

“It’s getting freaky,” said Valkyrie. “Quit it.”

“I can’t. I don’t know how.”

“We’re not asking you to take any risks,” Skulduggery said. “We’re asking you to keep your eyes and ears open. Are any of your fellow students acting suspiciously? Are they congregating at unusual times, in unusual places? Your teachers – are they acting normally? Do any of them seem unusually angry?”

“Mr Peccant is usually unusually angry,” Omen said at once. “Usually at me.”

“I’ll investigate Mr Peccant, don’t worry,” Skulduggery said, “but I’ll need you to focus here, OK? Any behaviour that strikes you as out of the ordinary. That’s what you need to be looking for.”

“And then what?”

“Then you tell us,” said Valkyrie.

Omen nodded. “OK, yeah. And then what?”

Skulduggery and Valkyrie looked at each other.

“I don’t understand,” said Skulduggery.

“Like, do I come with you, then?” Omen asked. “Do I still have to go to school, or will you give me a note to get out of classes or something? I mean, I’d use my reflection, but the teachers can always tell, and little alarms go off sometimes.”

Valkyrie held up her hand. “Wait, hold on. We’re asking you to snoop around this school. That’s it. That’s all we’re asking, and that’s all you’re going to be doing.”

“But … but you might need me. For stuff after.”

“Doubtful.”

Omen looked at Skulduggery. “But sir … I read all about you. All about the both of you. You took Valkyrie on as a partner when she was twelve. I’m fourteen.”

“This is true,” Skulduggery said slowly. “But, as it was pointed out to me only an hour ago, I am a very irresponsible person. I’m trying to change that, truly I am, so unfortunately I am not taking on any more partners. Ever.”

“Then I’ll … I’ll be your protégé.”

“I’m not taking on protégés, either.”

Omen looked at Valkyrie. “Could I be your protégé?”

She looked horrified. “What? No. I don’t have protégés. I’m too young to have protégés. I’m only twenty-four, for God’s sake. I barely know what a protégé is. I’m still the kid here. I’m still the … Skulduggery, tell him. I’m the young one in this whole dynamic.”

Skulduggery nodded. “You definitely are the young one. Though technically he is younger.”

“But he’s not a protégé! Or a partner! He’s a schoolboy! I’m the partner, I’m the young partner. I still have learning to do. I’m still …” She trailed off, then glared at Omen. “I’m the young one here.”

“OK,” he said. “Sorry.”

“I feel like we’ve strayed a little off topic,” Skulduggery said, “so allow me to pull things back to our original question. I realise this is a lot to take in, but we have to know – Omen Darkly, will you help us save the world?”

8 (#ulink_1331877b-9dfd-5c85-aec2-d90437cc9158)

Cadaverous Gant was of the opinion that this world was not worth saving.

It was peopled with savages who revelled in their own ignorance, who splashed about in the mud and the mire like children. This was a Truth he had glimpsed even before his Great Awakening, a Truth that had stained his hands red, that had left bodies in his wake, and it was a Truth that would rend flesh and shatter bones for years to come. Cadaverous would be there to see it happen. This he had been promised.