Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 7 - 9

Valkyrie cast a look back as Lament turned to Skulduggery. “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Lament said, and they followed Lenka and Valkyrie out of the door.

They met Vernon Plight on the way. He was a narrow, dark-skinned man with a warm smile. Valkyrie had read his file. He was almost 300 years old and an Adept, with a reputation as a fierce soldier. He knew Skulduggery and they exchanged a few friendly words before Lenka dragged them on.

“This is a momentous occasion,” said Lament. “When do we ever get the chance to show someone the Arboretum for the first time? Skulduggery, Valkyrie, welcome.”

They stepped through a wide doorway into a vast cavern, and in this cavern a rainforest sat. The heat, the humidity, the sounds of streams and waterfalls and birds and insects met them and enveloped them.

“Oh my God,” Valkyrie said.

Even Skulduggery was impressed. “This is remarkable.”

Lament smiled. “This is our very own biosphere, maintained by Lenka and Kalvin. There are adjoining caverns, each with a different kind of environment, but this is definitely the biggest. We’ve had to forgo a few luxuries, but we grow our own food here. Whatever we need. Whatever we want, really. We even have our own coffee beans. It’s actually quite good.”

“Are those monkeys up there?” Valkyrie asked, craning her neck.

Lament nodded. “We have animals, birds, insects... It’s a self-perpetuating ecosystem. It helps to make life interesting.”

“I imagine boredom would be a major problem,” Skulduggery said.

“It is, but we have access to the outside world thanks to Kalvin. When he isn’t helping me maintain the facility’s essential systems, he’s building relays and whatnot to view films and read the latest books... I don’t understand technology at all, to be honest, but Kalvin... Kalvin can access the world without leaving a trail that leads back here. He is invaluable.”

“That must be difficult,” Skulduggery said, “to view the world but not be a part of it.”

“That was the big debate we had when we first started,” Lament told them. “Do we cut ourselves off completely? I was in favour of total informational shutdown. I thought the alternative would be too hard to handle. But now I see the value in being open to it all. It reminds us of why we do what we do.”

A butterfly landed on Skulduggery’s finger. “I have to say, you have my admiration,” he said. “What you’re doing is astonishingly good and decent. I tend to forget there are people like you out there.” The butterfly flew away again.

Lament smiled. “We’re not saints, Skulduggery. We argue and squabble like the most ill-tempered family you’ve ever seen. But that’s what we’ve become. A family.”

“It’s a shame no one knows what you’re doing,” said Valkyrie.

“They can’t know.” Urgency entered Lament’s voice now. “You can’t tell anyone about this place. It’s bad enough you’re here – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. But there are sorcerers out there who would tear this facility down with their bare hands to get at Argeddion – either to find out what he knows, or simply to unleash him into the world. They would ignore the simple fact that controlling him is impossible, and focus only on the rewards they think he would bring. Can you imagine what would happen if a Sanctuary were to send its Cleavers in here? Once we were all dead, they’d start their experiments, and Argeddion would inevitably awaken.”

“There are people out there you can trust,” said Skulduggery. “Starting with us.”

Lament looked at him, looked at them both, and didn’t respond.

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t night, the orbs that lit the mountain facility grew gradually dimmer, and deep hues of orange and red began to sneak through before being replaced by the silver, grey and blue tones of moonlight.

They spent the evening in the living room. Lenka explained that they had gone through phases of calling it the common room and the social area, before deciding that living room just sounded more comfortable. There were sofas and armchairs and tables and pictures on the walls and a massive screen down one end.

“How do you pass the time here?” Valkyrie asked when Lenka had finished explaining everything.

Vernon Plight laughed. “It can get quite boring at times,” he admitted. “We watch television and we play music, but mostly we’ve found ways to amuse ourselves.”

“Really?” Valkyrie asked. “Like what?”

Plight’s smile faded. “Like human sacrifice.”

He grabbed one arm and Lenka grabbed the other and Valkyrie cried out.

Then they both let go, laughing.

“Naw,” Plight said, “we just play board games.”

Lenka doubled up with laughter. “Your face!” she squealed. “Your face when you thought we were going to kill you!”

Valkyrie glared at them. “That,” she said, “is not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” Lament said, passing the door.

“It’s not funny at all,” Valkyrie insisted. “Skulduggery, tell them.”

“I wish I’d had a camera,” he said, shaking his head.

“I hate all of you. Every single one of you.”

Kalvin Accord came in.

“She fell for it!” gasped Lenka. “She fell for the human sacrifice bit!”

Kalvin chortled, he actually chortled, and turned around and walked out again.

“I hate you all,” Valkyrie said miserably.

It may have been the mountain air, but Valkyrie awoke refreshed the next morning, full of energy, thinking good thoughts and feeling positive. She showered, dressed, and met Lenka for breakfast. They had freshly picked fruit and freshly squeezed orange juice.

“And now,” said Lenka, rubbing her stomach, “we have freshly slaughtered pig.”

Valkyrie made a face. “You kill your own animals?”

“It’s not like we can pop out to the nearest supermarket,” Lenka said, laughing. “Pig. Pork chops. Bacon. Oh my God, bacon...”

She closed her eyes and smiled. Valkyrie frowned.

Then Lenka sighed, and looked up. “We don’t have pig,” she said sadly. “We have the animals and the birds in the Arboretum but we don’t touch them. We can’t. Those monkeys are too cute.”

“So why didn’t you bring some pigs? When you started, I mean.”

“Oh, we did. But they escaped. They’re loose somewhere in this mountain and every year, their numbers grow. Sometimes at night you can hear them, calling to each other. It’s quite spooky, in an oinky sort of way.”

“I… don’t know whether to believe you or not.”