reason to. To it, she was just another prisoner.
A moment later, Mevolent’s head broke the surface of the black liquid. He climbed the steps out of the pool and a woman rushed forward with a robe. It was only when he was out that Valkyrie truly appreciated just how tall he was. Even barefoot, he towered over the woman and the Redhoods. The woman handed him a towel and he wiped the black residue from his face, turning away from Valkyrie before she got a good look. They left through the same door that Nye had scuttled through, and Vengeous prodded Valkyrie, forcing her on.
They came to what could only be described as a throne room. Elaborate weapons of all kinds hung from the walls, but the throne itself was a simple thing, just a heavy wooden chair that looked like it had been carved straight from the tree. On their way towards it, they passed a glass case. Within, garments stood like a suit of armour, fabric and leather and chainmail woven together in blacks and greys. The helmet was dark metal, its features arranged into a screaming visage, and the hooded cloak that covered it all was tattered and ripped and covered in half-hidden sigils.
“His battlesuit,” Vengeous informed her. “The master had never been defeated while wearing it. The helmet has been the source of terrible nightmares for his many enemies.”
Valkyrie didn’t respond. She wasn’t looking at the clothes or the helmet. She was looking at the small golden staff with a black crystal embedded in its hilt.
The Sceptre of the Ancients.
She stared at it. She no longer had Darquesse. Skulduggery no longer had Vile. But the Sceptre could kill Argeddion. If she could get it back to her own—
Vengeous shoved her so hard she nearly went flying. She recovered in time for him to grab her arm and position her before the throne.
“You are not to look the master in the eye,” he said. “Mevolent is the voice of the Faceless Ones on this earth and as such you have neither the right nor the honour to look upon his face. Any attempt to meet his gaze will be met with punishment. Do you understand?”
Valkyrie nodded.
Mevolent came through the narrow door behind the throne, barefoot, wearing a simple robe and some kind of veil over his head that hid his eyes. Remembering Vengeous’s words, she looked at his hands as he sat. For a while, he didn’t speak.
“Have you ever seen a man come back to life before?” he asked at last. His voice was deep but flat. Unimpressive. “Not many have. Over the years, stories have grown up around what you have seen here today. The truth gets misplaced the more the stories travel. They say I bathe in blood. Have you heard that? According to the stories I must submerge myself in mortal blood for two hours out of every twenty-four, or else my body starts to break apart due to the corruption I have inside me. That’s a lot of mortal blood to drain every single day, but they don’t take such things into consideration when concocting these stories, do they? On a purely logistical level, if I had to drain all those mortals, I’d never have the time to do anything else, would I?
“Other stories tell how I eat innocent newborns, how I’m ten feet tall, how I breathe fire and have great dragon wings. None of these are wholly accurate. I don’t have dragon wings, I don’t breathe fire, I’m only eight feet tall and I’ve never eaten a newborn that didn’t have it coming. My name is Mevolent. What’s yours?”
For a moment, her throat was too tight to speak. “Valkyrie,” she said at last. “Valkyrie Cain.”
“You’re not from here, Valkyrie, are you? I don’t need my Sense-Wardens to tell me that. I’d have known it just by looking at you. You don’t belong here.”
“No.”
“But you’ve obviously heard of me. You have too much fear about you not to know who I am. Am I what you expected?”
She shook her head.
“Words, Valkyrie. Use your words.”
“No,” she said. “You’re not what I expected.”
“I’m glad. I would hate to be predictable. You’ve heard about the monster Mevolent. You’ve heard the stories. You’ve heard what I’ve done. You expected something... different. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know.”
“This conversation is the only thing delaying your pain. It’s in your best interests to prolong it.”
She swallowed. “I didn’t know what to expect. I’ve heard so much about you, but not... not what you were like. I expected someone...”
“Scary?”
“You are scary.”
“Violent, then?”
“Yes. Maybe.”
“I am a changed man. During the war, I was violent and bloodthirsty. When the war ended, I was violent and ruthless. During my reign, I have been violent and unyielding. Wherever I walk, I leave bloody footprints. But no more. Violence spreads misery, and I have grown tired of misery. Your friends in the Resistance, I would like to meet with them to forge a treaty, to go forward in peace.”
“I don’t have friends in the Resistance.”
“We both know you stand against me.”
“But I don’t know anyone in the Resistance. I’m not from here, you said it yourself.”
“Yet you have been noticed, Valkyrie. We noticed you, twice in the last few days. I’m sure you’ve come to the attention of the Resistance also.”
“No, I’m telling you, I haven’t met any of them.”
“Don’t take me for a fool, Valkyrie. I’m extending a hand in friendship.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t—”
Mevolent’s mouth twisted into a snarl beneath his veil and Vengeous struck Valkyrie across the face. She fell to her knees.
“I try to be kind,” Mevolent murmured. “I offer an olive branch instead of a sword, and this is where it gets me. Insulted. Mocked.”
“I wasn’t mocking you.”
“You expect me to believe that someone like you has not caught the attention of the Resistance?”
“Maybe I have,” she said, “but they haven’t been able to find me. I don’t want to join the Resistance.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not, I—”
“Of course you are. You have to. You’re lying because your life is in danger. You’re lying because I could order Baron Vengeous to snap your neck and there’s nothing you could do to stop him, is there? Well?”
“No,” she said. “There isn’t.”
“So of course you’re lying. I expect you to lie. It’s only natural. You will lie until you run out of lies, and then you will tell the truth until you run out of truth, and then you will start lying again, telling us what you think we want to
