Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3

He took off his hat and wig and pulled the scarf from his neck. Stephanie looked around nervously.

“Aren’t you afraid someone might see?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Well, maybe we should go and talk to the Elders then.”

“Good idea.”

Skulduggery moved to one side of the corridor and traced his hand over the wall. “Where is it?” he muttered. “Bloody idiots keep changing it…”

The tourists came back around the corner and Stephanie went to drag Skulduggery out of sight but it was too late – they had already seen him. A small American boy left his parents’ side and walked right up to him. Skulduggery was frozen to the spot.

“Who’s that meant to be?” the boy asked, frowning slightly.

Stephanie hesitated. Now the entire tour was looking at her, including the tour guide. “This is,” Stephanie said, racking her brains for a likely-sounding explanation, “this is Sammy Skeleton, the world’s worst detective.”

“Never heard of him,” the boy said, giving Skulduggery’s arm a poke. He shrugged and lost interest, and Stephanie watched the tourists carry on. When they were out of sight, Skulduggery swivelled his head to her.

‘“World’s worst detective’?” he asked.

She shrugged and hid her grin, and Skulduggery harumphed good-naturedly and went back to running his hand along the wall. He found what he was looking for and pressed inwards. A section of the wall slid open to reveal a hidden passage.

“Wow,” Stephanie said. “The Sanctuary is here? I used to come here when I was little…”

“Never knowing that beneath your feet was a world of magic and wonder?”

“Exactly.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Better get used to that feeling.”

She followed him in and the wall sealed shut behind them. The stairway downwards was lit by torches that flickered in their brackets, but the closer they got to wherever it was they were going, the brighter it became.

They emerged into the gleaming foyer of the Sanctuary. It would have reminded Stephanie of the lobby to a high tech company building – all marble and varnished wood panelling – were it not for the lack of windows. Two men stood guard against the far wall, hands clasped behind them. Dressed entirely in grey, with long coats and some sort of helmet with a visor that covered their entire faces, they each had a scythe, a wicked-looking blade on a one-and-a-half-metre staff, strapped to their backs. A slight man in a suit came out to greet them.

“Detective,” he said, “you are early. The Council is not ready to convene. I could show you to the waiting area, if you wish.”

“Actually, I might take the opportunity to show our guest around, if that’s all right.”

The man blinked. “I’m afraid access is strictly limited, as well you know.”

“I was just going to show my friend the Repository,” Skulduggery said. “The Book, in fact.”

“I see. Well, as Administrator of the Sanctuary, I would have to accompany you, naturally.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The Administrator bowed and spun on his heel, and led them down an adjoining corridor. They passed more people in grey uniforms as they walked. Stephanie was getting used to dealing with people with no eyes and no expressions, but there was something about them that unnerved her. Skulduggery, living skeleton though he was, was still fundamentally human, and yet these people, who merely wore helmets to hide their faces, seemed to her much more sinister.

“Who are they?” Stephanie whispered as they walked.

“Cleavers,” Skulduggery replied in a low voice. “Security guards, enforcers and army, rolled into one. Dangerous individuals. Be glad they’re on our side.”

She did her best not to look at them as they passed. “Where are we going?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“I’m taking you to see the Book of Names,” Skulduggery said. “Some say it was created by the Ancients, but the truth is no one knows who really made it or how it was made. It lists the names of every person living on this earth: the given name, the taken name – when and if a name is taken – and the true name. Every time a baby is born, a new name appears in its pages. Every time someone dies, their name fades away.”

Stephanie looked at him. “So my true name is in that Book?”

“As is mine. As is everyone’s.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? If someone got their hands on that, they’d be able to rule the world.” She let a few moments pass. “And I felt ridiculous even saying that.”

The Administrator glanced over his shoulder as he walked. “Not even the Elders open the Book. It is too powerful – it can corrupt too easily. But they can’t find a way to destroy it – it can’t be torn; it can’t be burnt; it can’t be damaged by any means we have at our disposal. If the legends are true and the Book was created by the Ancients, then it stands to reason that only the Ancients could destroy it. The Elders, for their part, see it as their responsibility to protect it, to keep it away from prying eyes.”

They reached a set of double doors. The Administrator waved his hand and the heavy doors swung slowly open. They walked into the Repository – a large room with marble pillars – which, as Skulduggery explained, housed some of the rarest and most unusual magical artefacts in existence. They passed row upon row of shelves and tables, on which lay items so bizarre they defied description. The Administrator pointed out one of the strangest of these – a two-dimensional box that held wonders to sate the most jaded of appetites, but which only existed if approached from a right angle. In contrast to this clutter, however, was the centre of the room, which was empty save for a pedestal, and on that pedestal, a book.

“That’s the Book of Names?” Stephanie asked.

“Yes, it is,” the Administrator answered.

“I thought it’d be bigger.”

“It’s as big as it needs to be, no more, no less.”

“And it’s OK to leave it out in the open like that?”

“It’s not as vulnerable as you might think. When it was placed here, the security arrangements did cause the Elders some concern. How would it be protected? Guards can be overcome. A locked door can be unlocked. A wall can be broken. A shield can be pierced.”

“So, what? They decided not to bother?”

“Actually, they came up with a most ingenious defence. Willpower.”

“Sorry?”

“The Book is protected by the Will of the Elders.” Stephanie wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“See for yourself,” the Administrator said. “Take the Book.”

“Me?”

“You. You won’t be harmed.”

Stephanie glanced at Skulduggery, but he gave no indication as to what she should do. Finally, she just turned and started walking towards it.

Her eyes darted from one side of the room to the next. She thought about trapdoors and immediately started examining the floor she walked on. What form did willpower take? She hoped it wasn’t bullets or anything painful like that. She was mildly annoyed that she was even doing this, walking right into whatever trap the Elders had set up, and doing so willingly. For what? To prove a point that wasn’t even hers? She didn’t even want to take the Book. This whole thing was ridiculous.

She glanced back, saw the Administrator standing there with a placid expression on his face, obviously anticipating whatever was about to happen, whatever was going to pop out in front of her to stop her from taking their precious Book. She stopped walking. If he wanted the Book, he could get it himself. She turned and walked right back again. The Administrator peered at her.