said angrily. “If anyone dies, it should be…”
Guild looked at her and she shut up.
“Will he be tortured?” Fletcher asked, his voice quiet. “I know you people do a lot of that kind of stuff…But the Professor’s an old man. He won’t be able to take it. It was bad enough he was in a car crash.”
Valkyrie frowned, the thought suddenly striking her. “Why was he in a car crash? Why were they in a car at all? Sanguine could have just grabbed him and tunnelled away with him. Why did they take a car?”
“I was wondering that myself,” Skulduggery said. “The only explanation I can think of is that maybe he was trying to lead us somewhere.”
“A trap?”
“That’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Then it’s a good thing he crashed.”
“It has been reported on the news,” Guild snapped. “It is in no way a good thing any of this happened. If the worst comes to pass, if Grouse does repair that Engine, what will Scarab use it for? To kill me?”
“If he just wanted to just kill you, he could have done it when Dusk came in with his vampires. He might see the Sanctuary, as a whole, as being responsible for his imprisonment.”
“Then that is why he wants the Engine. He wants to destroy this place.”
“Maybe,” Skulduggery said, then looked up suddenly. “I know why they stole the Soul Catcher.”
“You do?”
“I know how they’ll make Professor Grouse help them. I even know where at least one of them will be tonight.”
“And you figured all that out while we were standing here talking?”
“I am a detective.”
“So what do they want with the Desolation Engine?”
“It’s probably what we think – they want to destroy this place. But I don’t know that for sure.”
“When you do know something for sure,” Guild sighed, “would you be kind enough to tell me? I’m quite looking forward to the day when you become useful.”
They walked to the Bentley.
“Fletcher,” Skulduggery said, “I want you to help Ghastly find the castle we’re looking for.”
“What are you two going to do?”
“Never mind that,” Valkyrie said. “Why did Sanguine steal the Soul Catcher?”
Skulduggery unlocked the car. “Have you ever heard of Remnants?”
“Are they a band?” Fletcher asked.
“Remnants are dark spirits, beings infused with absolute evil. They lost their bodies long ago, so when they’re able, they possess the living – sharing their memories, absorbing their personalities and hijacking their bodies. They are a plague. The last time they struck, in 1892, they took over an entire town in Kerry and burned it to the ground. The Sanctuary asked the Necromancers for help in constructing what would basically be a giant Soul Catcher inside a mountain in the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks. The Necromancers didn’t want to help so the Sanctuary did the best they could. The townspeople were led there, the giant Soul Catcher somehow, miraculously, worked and the Remnants were torn out of them.”
“Where are the Remnants now?”
“Trapped. Hundreds of them, it’s impossible to say exactly how many, were then transferred to a room they can’t escape from. If they ever got out, they would ravage this world, moving from host body to host body, building up their strength, building up their army.”
“If Sanguine traps one of them in the Soul Catcher,” Valkyrie said, “could he put it in Kenspeckle, use it to take over his mind?”
“I think that’s his plan,” Skulduggery said. “The Remnant will have all the Professor’s memories and skills, but it wouldn’t be him– not really. It certainly wouldn’t have his conscience.”
“Where’s this room then?” Fletcher asked. “I can probably get you there faster.”
“Not this time, Fletcher. You can only teleport to places you’ve already been, and this room in particular has a tendency to move around a lot.”
Valkyrie frowned. “What does that mean?”
Fletcher went off to help Ghastly, and Skulduggery and Valkyrie drove out of the city. As they drove, he told her all about the Midnight Hotel.
It was run by a sorcerer named Anton Shudder, an old friend of Skulduggery’s who fought alongside him during the war with Mevolent. Dissatisfied with the various Sanctuaries around the world, which he felt had grown too powerful and bureaucratic, he had built the hotel as a refuge for those who operated outside of official boundaries. His guests were often outcasts or outlaws or sometimes even out-and-out criminals, but as long as they obeyed the primary rule of the hotel, all were welcome.
The primary rule, Skulduggery said, was simple: no violence against any guest. If a fight did break out, Shudder himself would fight on behalf of the victim, whoever it happened to be. And no one, apparently, wanted to go up against Shudder.
“He must be pretty good,” Valkyrie said, “if everyone’s afraid of him. Is he Elemental or Adept?”
“Adept,” Skulduggery said. “If you’re lucky, you’ll never have to see what he can do.”
They drove on and Valkyrie tried to pin down something that had been bugging her for the past few hours – a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that wouldn’t go away. They arrived at a clearing in woodland, but she still had no idea what this stray thought might be. Skulduggery parked the car and they got out.
“You had better hold on to me,” Skulduggery said.
She clung to him and they rose up off the ground, away from the road and into the air. They passed over the tops of the trees, her feet rustling the branches lightly. Skulduggery kept them on course, and every so often she thought she heard him talking to himself, words that the wind whipped from his lipless mouth before they reached her ears.
They drifted down to a clearing, landing gently.
“What are we doing?” Valkyrie asked. “Where’s the hotel?”
“Any second now,” he answered, checking his pocket watch. He put it away.
A moment later the ground in the clearing rumbled and a building grew.
Wooden beams sprang from the earth and concrete seeped from the grass and hardened. The walls blossomed around the foundations, and inside Valkyrie saw rooms being born and tables flowering. A second storey grew and then a third, and the walls sprouted a roof that joined in the middle. Glass dripped from the tops of windows and formed panes, and doorways grew doors. The last thing to grow was a sign that said The Midnight Hotel.
“Every
