Resurrection

Sebastian smiled beneath his mask. “Names,” he said, “are power.”

“Fine,” she said, wiping blood from her lip. “I’ll call you Mr Beakface.”

He stopped smiling. “No, don’t call me Mr Beakface. Call me the Plague Doctor.”

“Mr Beakface is easier to remember.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

She peered closer. “Are you an actual doctor?”

“I’m here to fix things.”

“So no.”

He sighed. “Not a doctor as such.”

“And why are you wearing a mask?”

“It came with the suit.”

“It makes your voice sound funny.”

He frowned. “Does it?”

“You don’t hear that? It echoes.”

“Oh,” he said. “I don’t know. I didn’t know it echoed.”

She stepped over the unconscious body at her feet. “What do you want?”

“Like I said, I’m here to help.”

“By arriving at the last minute when the fight is just about done? You’re handy.”

“I mean, from now on,” Sebastian said. “I’m here to help from now on.”

“What are you going to help with? Has the Black Death come back?”

“Well, no. But bad things are coming.”

“Why do people keep saying that like it’s a surprise?”

“I’m a friend, OK? That’s all you need to know.”

She looked at him. “I’ve just had this conversation with someone else. I’m not looking for any more friends. Do yourself a favour and stay out of my life.”

She walked by. For a moment, he thought she was going to lunge at him, to tear off his mask and reveal his face … but she passed him like she couldn’t be bothered with anything any more.

“Valkyrie,” he said.

She turned. Waited.

“Why did you let them hurt you?”

“They caught me by surprise,” she said.

“No, they didn’t.”

“Believe what you want. I don’t care.”

“One other thing? I, uh, I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this.”

She frowned. “Sorry?”

“Skulduggery,” Sebastian said. “Anyone else. It would be better if they didn’t know about me. Not yet.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you. Please, for now, keep this between me and you.”

She put her hands on her hips and looked down, like she was counting to ten. She raised her head. “Listen, Mr Beakface—”

“Plague Doctor.”

“—I’m not comfortable keeping any secrets from Skulduggery, even the important ones. I wouldn’t view meeting you as important.”

“Valkyrie, please. When I can explain myself, I will. I know it’s asking a lot, but … trust me.”

She sighed. “Fine,” she said, and walked away.

11 (#ulink_e51f45e0-4e73-56de-9b9a-b0a4575b7bb5)

Two minutes later, the Bentley pulled up by the side of the road and Valkyrie got in.

“A guy in a stupid mask asked me not to tell you he exists,” she said, reaching back to pet Xena.

Skulduggery nodded. “Fair enough.”

12 (#ulink_d8ad4b72-7a53-536a-bc95-8a024cceb94b)

They drove east through the city, parked and went walking. Xena, on a leash but without a muzzle, investigated every stray scent. Valkyrie hadn’t been to this part of Roarhaven since it had been rebuilt. The apartment blocks were big – the apartments within them small. The streets, though new, had already developed potholes. Mostly uninhabited, with little in the way of shops, the few people they passed there either stared at Valkyrie in shock or actually crossed to the other side to avoid her.

“This is not doing my self-esteem any good whatsoever,” she muttered.

“Maybe they’re afraid of the dog,” Skulduggery said.

“They’re afraid of something.”