“Speak for yourself,” said Valkyrie.
The man smiled. “My name’s Healy. I’m what you might call the local constabulary for Ratoath.”
Skulduggery nodded to him. “How do you do, Mr Healy?”
“It talks,” Healy said with a smile. “Wonders will never cease, will they? I’m doing fine, sir, thank you for asking. I’m going to have to request that the pair of you raise your hands, though.”
“We’re not looking for trouble,” Skulduggery said as they complied.
“Only a madman would look for trouble in a town like Ratoath,” Healy responded. “We have strict rules, you see. As the duly appointed constable, I would not be the most popular person in these parts, seeing as how my duties include rounding up troublemakers for the Barge every few weeks. But arresting people like you would easily fill my quota.”
“People like us?”
“Sorcerers,” said Healy. “Resistance sorcerers.”
“How do you know we’re Resistance?” Valkyrie asked. “We could have come straight from Mevolent himself.”
Healy shook his head. “They don’t sneak in. When they arrive, they let you know about it so you can start shaking in your boots. No, you pair are Resistance, I can tell a mile off.”
Skulduggery tilted his head. “You don’t sound very nervous, Mr Healy. If we are Resistance sorcerers, then we’re very dangerous people.”
“The Resistance don’t hurt mortals. Everyone knows that.”
“You seem awfully sure that you’re not in any danger.”
“You pull a gun on a person, you’d be surprised how confident you get.”
Skulduggery flicked his left hand and the air tore Healy’s shotgun from his grip. At the same time, Skulduggery’s revolver flew from his jacket into his right hand, and he thumbed back the hammer. “You know what?” he said. “You’re absolutely right. I am positively brimming with confidence.”
Healy raised his hands slowly. “I didn’t shoot you,” he said, “and so I’d appreciate it if you returned the favour.”
The shotgun drifted into Valkyrie’s hands, and she broke it open and took out the cartridges. “What if you’re wrong?” she asked. “What if we are from Mevolent?”
Healy shrugged. “After what I just did? You’d probably burn this town to the ground.”
“And you’re still not nervous?”
“No, Miss. I am not.”
“Mind telling us why?”
Healy smiled, and his eyes moved slowly. Valkyrie and Skulduggery turned, and saw Anton Shudder standing there.
He didn’t even blink. He gazed at Skulduggery like they’d been around each other every day for the last 200 years.
“Please,” Skulduggery said, “don’t make a fuss.”
Predictably, Shudder didn’t even crack a smile. “Why are you back?” he asked.
“We need to talk to China.”
Shudder didn’t respond.
“We want to get into the City,” Skulduggery continued. “We thought she might know a way. Or maybe you do, and you could tell us, and we wouldn’t have to disturb her. I think that’d be best for everyone, actually.”
“I do nothing without Miss Sorrows’ permission.”
“What a fulfilling life you must lead.”
“My reflection,” Valkyrie said. “Is it here?”
Shudder turned his eyes to her. “Your reflection was taken along with thirteen of our people. Nine others were killed last night, and four more have died since then of their injuries.”
“Can we talk to her? China said it herself, she’s in my debt. If it wasn’t for me, you guys would never have got that Teleporter.”
“The Teleporter they tracked from the dungeon,” said Shudder. “The Teleporter who led them straight to us.”
“None of that is my fault.”
“Tell China we have a proposition for her,” said Skulduggery.
“I am her bodyguard,” said Shudder, “not her liaison. If you want to tell Miss Sorrows something, then do it yourself.” He walked past them, heading across the square to the large building.
“I think that was his way of saying follow me,” Healy told them, smiling.
Valkyrie handed him back his shotgun and joined Skulduggery. They followed Shudder through the door, and a section of the flooring opened up, revealing steps leading down. At the bottom of the steps Cleavers stood, clad in grey, with those visored helmets that used to creep Valkyrie out so much. Now they comforted her. She much preferred the grey-suited Cleavers to the crimson-suited Redhoods.
Shudder pushed open the door. A man was sitting in a chair. His chest was bare and he had a black disc the size of a drinks coaster attached to his forearm. China Sorrows was carving a sigil into his chest with a scalpel.
She stopped work for a moment and looked up, her startling blue eyes fixed on Skulduggery. “Who are you?”
Valkyrie frowned. “You don’t recognise him?”
China went back to work on the man in the chair, who didn’t seem to notice the pain. “One skeleton looks the same as another,” she said. Of course, I’ve only known one to actually walk...”
“Hello, China,” Skulduggery said.
It may have been the light, but Valkyrie could have sworn she saw China take a sharp breath. She straightened up.
“It is you,” she said. “Where were you? Where have you been? Everyone... everyone thought you were dead.”
Skulduggery took his hat off. “Do I look dead?”
“I refuse to answer ridiculous questions.”
“China Sorrows... such a past we share. It’s practically unfathomable, isn’t it? The influence we’ve had on each other’s lives? You helped make me the man I am today.”
China didn’t respond. Instead, she glanced at the man in the chair. “We’ll finish this later.” He nodded, removed the black disc from his arm and winced, then walked out.
“And I,” Skulduggery said as China began cleaning the scalpel, “I’m sure I’ve affected your growth as a person in equally memorable ways. The years we spent as enemies, hunting and fighting and warring... From a spoiled little disciple of the Faceless Ones to leader of the Diablerie and now look at you. The leader of the Resistance. You’ve
