do,” Valkyrie said, a little stunned. She followed him inside.
There was a reception desk and maybe two dozen hooks on a board behind it for the room keys to hang from. Beside the board there was an open door that led to a backroom. There was a lamp and a ledger on the desk, and a single pen.
They walked through into the common room. A couple of old chairs, a sofa and a low table were arranged around the fireplace, for guests to come down to in the evening and relax. There was a bookshelf along one wall and a door that led somewhere, possibly the kitchen or the dining area. A woman came down the stairs, ignored them and walked out. They went back to the reception desk. A man stood there now – tall, with long black hair, dressed like a funeral director. He smiled gently.
“Hello, my friend,” he said to Skulduggery. “Providing you are not here to bother my guests, it is good to see you.”
“Likewise. Valkyrie Cain, this is Anton Shudder, the owner and manager of the Midnight Hotel.”
Shudder bowed his head to her. “It pleases me to meet you, Valkyrie. I’ve heard stories.”
“Good stories or bad stories?”
“All stories are good stories,” he smiled, “even the bad ones. What can I do for you?”
“We’re here to check on the Remnants,” Skulduggery said.
Shudder took a moment to react. “I see,” he said eventually. “Are you here to count them?”
“We just want to make sure they’re still where they’re supposed to be.”
“You have reason to believe they wouldn’t be?” Shudder asked, stepping out from behind the desk.
“Dreylan Scarab is out of prison,” Skulduggery said as they followed him up the stairs. “He’s got himself a little gang of like-minded killers and we think they want to set a Remnant free.”
“And you think they have managed this without my knowing?”
“I don’t underestimate my enemies.”
“And yet you seem to underestimate your friends.” Shudder looked back at Valkyrie. “Twenty-four rooms, the walls, doors and windows reinforced physically and magically. There are seals around the perimeter, guarding against certain types of undesirables. I make it a point of offering the best protection to my guests. There is one room, however, that is different from all the others.”
They stopped outside a door on the second floor, marked 24.
“This is where I keep the Remnants,” Shudder said. “They’ve been here for over a hundred years and they’ve never managed to escape. This door hasn’t been opened in a century and it won’t be opened for a century more. They’re not going anywhere.”
Skulduggery took off his hat and brushed imaginary lint from the brim. “These are some very resourceful people we’re talking about, Anton.”
“In that case they will try and they will fail. I would offer you the room across the hall, to make sure nobody gets in, but I am fully booked and expecting another guest at any time.”
“If it’s all the same to you though, we’ll stick around for a few hours.”
“By all means.”
Shudder led them back down and into the reception area, where they found Billy-Ray Sanguine standing at the desk.
Skulduggery’s gun leaped into his hand, and Sanguine laughed and backed away, hands up.
“Don’t shoot!” he cried in mock horror. “I’m unarmed!”
Skulduggery didn’t say anything. The gun didn’t waver.
Sanguine lost the laugh. “Hey, I’m serious now. Don’t you shoot me.”
“You’re under arrest,” Skulduggery said.
“Sanctuary agents have no jurisdiction in the Midnight Hotel,” Sanguine said. “Ain’t that right? I checked the rules before I came.”
“That is correct,” said Shudder.
“Makes no difference to me,” Skulduggery said coldly. “I can throw you out of here and arrest you then just as easily.”
“You can’t lay a finger on me,” Sanguine smiled. “You’re Shudder, right? Mr Shudder, I believe I have a reservation at this fine establishment for one whole night. The name’s William-Raymond Sanguine. Billy-Ray to my friends.”
Shudder went to his desk and looked in the book, then raised his eyes to Valkyrie and Skulduggery. “He is a guest,” he confirmed.
“Not yet he isn’t,” Skulduggery said, moving to Sanguine. Shudder stepped between them.
“Skulduggery, this man is a guest of the Midnight Hotel. As such he is under my protection. Please put away your gun.”
Skulduggery didn’t move for a moment then, slowly, his gun slid back into its holster.
Shudder turned to Sanguine. “Do you have any bags, Mr Sanguine?”
“Just this one,” the Texan answered, nudging a small case at his feet.
“Is that where you’re keeping the Soul Catcher?” Valkyrie asked.
“Valkyrie, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. All I’ve got in my case is a change of underwear and a good book to read.” He turned to Shudder. “Now then, let’s make this official. Where do I sign in?”
“May I?” he asked, indicating one of the empty chairs. When they didn’t object, he sat. Valkyrie saw her darkened reflection in his sunglasses.
“Well, now that we’re sittin’ here,” he said with a flash of white teeth, “I can’t think of anythin’ interestin’ to say.”
“How about you tell us where you’re keeping Kenspeckle Grouse and Tanith Low?” Skulduggery suggested. “And then where exactly you plan to detonate the Desolation Engine, assuming you manage to get it repaired? After that, we can go wherever the conversation takes us.”
“And if I don’t? Will you beat it out of me?”
“With pleasure.”
“The proprietor will not stand for violence in his hotel,” Sanguine reminded them happily. “I checked with him and he is a stickler about this. If you go
