The Dying of the Light

“So you need a new dimension to shunt into,” Skulduggery said, and went silent for a moment. “Tell me, Mr Signate, do you know Silas Nadir?”

Signate’s lip curled in distaste. “I know him. Haven’t spoken to him in over sixty years. If you’re hoping I know where to find him, I’m afraid I can’t help you. I try not to associate with serial killers.”

“We don’t need you to find him. We’ve come close to it in the past, and one of these days we’ll catch him and make sure he never kills again. But you’re aware of the dimension he found?”

“I am, of course,” said Signate. “A reality where Mevolent rules the world. Not somewhere I’d ever be interested in visiting, mind you, but … oh.”

“Do you think you can find it? I’m aware that every dimension has its own frequency and there’s an infinite number of realities, but—”

“Once a frequency has been found,” said Signate, seizing his own opportunity to interrupt, “it’s out there, open, waiting. It becomes noticeable, if you’re of a particular skill level. And of course I am. It would help me greatly if there was something I could draw a reading from, though. Did you happen to bring back any souvenirs?”

“We have this,” said Stephanie, taking the Sceptre from her backpack.

Signate’s eyes widened. “Oh, my … That’s the Sceptre of the Ancients, isn’t it? That’s a piece of history. It’s … magnificent.”

“It’s not ours,” Stephanie said. “Our Sceptre was destroyed. This one belongs in the other dimension. We kind of liberated it.”

“Can I … Can I touch it?” Signate asked. “It won’t go off, will it?”

“It’s Deadlocked,” she told him. “It’s bonded to me, so I’m the only one it’ll work for. Can you get a reading from it?”

With slightly trembling hands, Signate reached out, fingertips brushing the Sceptre. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. His fingertips tapped lightly. Then he withdrew his hands, and looked up. “That is tremendously helpful. It would have taken me months to find the proper frequency – now it will only take weeks.”

“You have days,” said Skulduggery. “Do you think you can do it?”

Signate smiled for the first time. “I have always appreciated a challenge.”

Skulduggery stood. “You’ll be out in an hour. Report directly to Administrator Tipstaff. You’re working with us now, Creyfon. Do not disappoint me.”

They left him there and walked back. The silence was beginning to get to Stephanie. It was a peculiar sort of silence. It was sharp. It had angles. It jostled between them, its edges cutting into her. But she kept her mouth shut. Attempting to start a conversation, trying for small talk, would be a defeat. If Skulduggery didn’t want to talk to her, then she didn’t want to talk to Skulduggery.

Even though she did. Badly.

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eep within the mountain, Cleavers came and Cleavers died, their bodies crumpling while their energies burst free of their earthly bonds and soared upwards into the heavens. It was a beautiful thing to behold, amid the spray of blood and the mangled limbs, and Darquesse found she could appreciate it on a whole new, artistic level. The squalor and the splendour of existence, displayed before her like a grand diorama.

Tanith wasn’t appreciating it, unfortunately. She leaped and dodged and fought and killed in the shadow of the giant Receptacle that housed all of her fellow Remnants, and she did so with the same look of intense focus on her face that she always had. She wasn’t even smiling. She rarely smiled any more, now that Darquesse thought about it. Curious.

Darquesse wondered what Tanith was making of the grand diorama of existence she was seeing. She had become so pragmatic lately that she would probably dismiss it. That almost made Darquesse sad. If only everyone could see things the way she did. She reckoned people would be a lot happier. She grinned as she stepped between two Cleavers, dodging every move they made. “Did you know that Cleavers fight naked?” she asked as she ducked a scythe blade.

Tanith beheaded a downed opponent. “I did.”

Darquesse nodded, leaned away from a kick, and immediately spun to avoid a grab. “Deep within every training area in every Sanctuary, they have a Combat Circle. They step in there, strip off every item of clothing, and fight.”

The Cleavers kept attacking – not slowing up, and yet not allowing their frustration to show. Impressive. “It’s a huge honour to step into the circle, apparently. It is a challenge that cannot be refused. That’s where they prove themselves, without armour or protection.”

“I know all this,” said Tanith. “I was the one who told you. Years ago.”

Darquesse happily ignored her. “These guys would all have fought naked, at some point. Wouldn’t that have been something to see?”

She suddenly lunged, driving her hand through the chest of the Cleaver nearest to her. The last two closed in, but their scythe blades exploded into rust before they got close. Darquesse flicked her wrists and their necks snapped.

“That was fun,” she said.

“Was it?”

She turned to Tanith. “You didn’t think so?”

“You could have killed them all with a wave of your hand,” Tanith said. “We didn’t have to fight.”

“But you like fighting.”

“Fighting without a reason to fight is stupid. And having someone like you around just takes the fun out of it.”

“Oh,” said Darquesse. “I didn’t know that.”

Tanith put away her sword. She looked up at the Receptacle, a globe 100 metres in diameter, set into a cradle of metal with thick wooden struts. Within the globe, blackness swirled. “You’re really going to let them all out, then?”

“I am,” said Darquesse. She trailed her fingers along the side. “All these thousands of Remnants, your brothers and sisters … They’ve been cooped up in this thing, deprived of even a change of scenery. You remember what it was like to be trapped in that room in the Midnight Hotel, don’t you?”

“Yes I do,” said Tanith. “And I didn’t like it one little bit.”

Darquesse gave her a wicked smile. “You want to be the one to let them out?”

Tanith hesitated. “I don’t know. The longer the Remnant is inside me, the longer I’m me, the less I care about other Remnants. I want to free them, but I don’t … need to. It’s something I wanted to do, once upon a time. But now …”

“Personally,” said Darquesse, “I think it’s important to hang on to things like that. That’s why I’m so determined to keep punishing Ravel. It’s what I wanted to do, once upon a time, and I remember that feeling of satisfaction when he first started to scream. I liked that feeling. I want to preserve it.”

“So you think I should let them out?”

Darquesse shrugged. “Only if you want to.”

“Well … freeing them would be advantageous. We could set them loose to distract Skulduggery and the others while you …”

“While I what?” Darquesse said. “What is it you think I’m doing?”

“I’ve seen the future. I’ve seen what you do to the world. You destroy everything.”

“And that’s what you want, is it? Even now? You want a world where everyone is dead? But then there’d be no people to possess, and no trouble to get into. And we both know how much Remnants love getting into trouble.”

“Darquesse, looking into the future, seeing what you do … it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

“That was then. What about now?”

“I haven’t changed my mind, if that’s what you’re asking. If you doubt my loyalty—”

“This isn’t about loyalty, Tanith. You’re a different person to who you were.”