The Dying of the Light

Skulduggery took Finbar’s arm. “Come with me,” he said, leading him out of the lobby.

“But my Doc Martens …”

“You can pick them up in a minute.” Skulduggery pushed open a door, made sure the room was empty, and closed it once Finbar and Stephanie were both inside. He pulled out his phone, dialled and put it on speaker.

Cassandra Pharos answered. “You just can’t stay away from me, can you?”

“Be warned, Cassandra, you’re on speaker.”

“Oh, phooey.”

“I’m here with Stephanie and Finbar.”

“Good morning, Steph. Finbar, what has you up this early on a weekday?”

Finbar frowned. “It’s a weekday?”

“Valkyrie came to him in a dream,” Skulduggery said. “She said ‘help me’ and disappeared.”

“I see,” Cassandra said. “Finbar, it was really a communication? You’re not getting confused again, are you?”

“I’m sure,” Finbar said. “The TV wasn’t even on this time.” He glanced at Stephanie. “Last time I thought someone was contacting me, it was William Shatner.” He looked back at the phone. “But this time I’m sure, Cassie. It was her. It was Valkyrie.”

“How would Valkyrie even know how to possess someone?” Stephanie asked. “If the dream was real, how do we know it’s not someone pretending to be her? Either a Sensitive or Darquesse herself? Maybe they want to lie to us or distract us or just spy on us. We don’t know it’s Valkyrie. Valkyrie’s gone.”

“I’m not entirely convinced of that,” said Cassandra. “There is a possibility that Valkyrie could merely be subdued, in the same way that Darquesse was when Valkyrie was in control. If that’s the case, it’s entirely reasonable to assume that she’s diverting some of Darquesse’s power to contact us without Darquesse even being aware of it.”

“But Valkyrie doesn’t know how,” Stephanie said.

“She knows everything Darquesse knows,” said Skulduggery. “And Darquesse learns, adapts, and acquires new abilities at a remarkable rate.”

“Is this what you think,” Stephanie asked, “or what you hope? You’re all acting like Valkyrie is still there to be saved. I’m here to tell you, as the only one who could possibly know, that there is no Valkyrie any more. I know how strong Darquesse is. She would have swallowed Valkyrie whole.”

“Is that what you think or what you hope?” Skulduggery murmured. She glared at him as he spoke into the phone. “If it is Valkyrie, and I’m not saying it is, how do we use that to help her?”

“I don’t know,” said Cassandra. “There are two distinct viewpoints within her mind, and yet they’re the same personality. Theoretically we could push one aspect down, suppress it, using some of the techniques we employed with Argeddion. But we’d need some very powerful Sensitives to do it.”

“This is insane,” said Stephanie. “If we go after her with the intention of subduing her, she’ll kill us. We agreed on this, Skulduggery. We agreed that if I had the shot, I’d take it.”

“If we have no other choice.”

“We don’t.”

“We have this,” he said. “This is a choice. If that is Valkyrie, she’s reaching out to us.”

“You’re putting the world in danger for someone who’s already gone.”

“I’m not giving up on her unless I absolutely have to.”

“Even if it works, what then? Darquesse is pushed back down into the dark corners of Valkyrie’s mind. So what? She’ll rise to the top. She’ll emerge. She’ll take over. Just like she’s done before. If she can be saved, then the only way to do it would be to do what was done to Argeddion. Push everything down. Repress everything, and rewrite her personality. Give her a new mortal identity and send her away where she’ll never bother anyone ever again.”

“She could be right,” Cassandra said quietly. “That might be the only way to save Valkyrie’s life.”

Skulduggery didn’t answer.

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ife as a Monster Hunter was not without its perks.

There was the opportunity to travel, for one – though as a Teleporter, travel was pretty much Fletcher’s thing anyway. But then there were other perks, too, like being part of an internationally recognised and respected team of adventurers. Although they weren’t quite as recognised and respected as Fletcher had been led to believe. Most of the sorcerers they spoke to around the world had only a passing notion of who they actually were, being more familiar, in fact, with the books they wrote than their actual real-life escapades.

Gracious O’Callahan – the short, strong one with the muscles and the T-shirts – and Donegan Bane – the tall, dapper one with the skinny jeans and the skinny ties – spent most of their time signing autographs and posing for photos while Dai Maybury stroked his beard and looked on with envy and Fletcher was ignored altogether.

The reason they’d got as far as they had in their search for the renegade sorcerers had nothing to do with the Monster Hunters at all, and everything to do with the two men who accompanied them. Dexter Vex, he of the chiselled abs and the scuffed boots, and Saracen Rue, of the winning smile and the designer suits, had a reputation that all but guaranteed straight answers to their many questions. The Dead Men were taken seriously wherever they went.

And now they were back in a small town in Ireland with a new set of targets – the Remnants. Even Gracious had looked apprehensive at the idea of taking on those sneaky little bodysnatchers. Vex and Saracen, of course, hadn’t batted an eyelid, and gradually their sense of calm had spread throughout the group, and the casual nature of the team returned. Unfortunately.

“I remember my first girlfriend,” said Gracious as they prowled the town’s quiet back streets.

“Stephanie is not my first,” Fletcher responded.

Gracious ignored him. “A farmer’s daughter, she was, though back then nearly every girl was a farmer’s daughter. Or a farmer. She had hair as long as rope, and a nose. All her eyes were blue and she had a smile like a radiant hole in the ground, with teeth. God, she was beautiful.”

“She sounds terrifying,” said Donegan.

“Hush, you. I will hear no bad word spoken of your sister.”

“Stephanie is not my first,” Fletcher repeated. “I really don’t need any advice.”

“Lads,” said Gracious, “any words of wisdom for Fletcher here?”

The others closed in.

“Honesty is, honestly, the best policy,” said Saracen. “But when honesty doesn’t work, lie, and lie convincingly.”

“Treat her right and with respect,” said Vex from up ahead. “Even when it ends, you want to remain friends.”

Donegan pondered. “My advice would be to go for someone better than you are. Stops you from getting complacent.”

“Grow a beard,” said Dai.

Fletcher frowned back at him. “Sorry?”

“A beard,” Dai said. “Women love beards. Grow one like mine. Mine is a manly beard.”

“I suppose it is kind of … manly.”

“I’ve had it since I was twelve.”