Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3. Derek Landy

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Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 3 - Derek Landy

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or that he has saved my life.”

      “And put it at risk. Every good thing he has done for you has been cancelled out by every bad thing he has done to you. You don’t owe him anything.”

      “I’m not going to abandon him.”

      “It is hardly your choice.”

      “What are you going to do?” Stephanie challenged.

      “I am simply going to ask you to do what I say.”

      “Then the answer’s no.”

      “My dear Stephanie…”

      Stephanie froze. China looked at her. “I’ve known your name since before I met you, child. Your uncle spoke of you often.”

      Stephanie lunged for the door but it was no use.

      “Stephanie,” China said softly. Stephanie’s hands dropped to her sides and she turned. “Tell no one of this.”

      Stephanie felt it inside her and knew she would obey, knew no matter how much she raged against it, she would obey. She had no choice. So she nodded as tears stung her eyes and China smiled that beautiful smile of hers.

       15

      THE TORTURE ROOM

       he moon was out and the stars were twinkling and it really was a beautiful night for pain.

       Serpine descended into the castle’s cold, dank depths and strode through the stone corridors. Already, he was beginning to smile. He came to the heavy wooden door and paused with his hand over the latch, savouring the deliciousness of the moment.

       The latch lifted and Serpine stepped in. “Here we are again,” he said.

       Skulduggery Pleasant raised his head, practically the only part of his body he could move. Serpine had placed a binding spell on the shackles that secured him to the chair and so, unable to use magic, the detective could only watch as Serpine closed the door behind him.

       “Life is a cycle, isn’t it, Skulduggery? We are all destined to repeat ourselves, over and over. You, at my mercy. Me, merciless.”

       “You, talking,” the detective said. “I thought you’d have grown out of the whole villainy thing by now, Nefarian.”

       Serpine smiled as he sat in the wooden chair opposite. The room was small, with stone walls and a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. “Being a respectable citizen wasn’t for me, but then you knew that, didn’t you? You warned them about me, but they didn’t listen. That must have been annoying, for the Elders not to even respect you enough to take you seriously.”

       “I think it’s because I’m always smiling.”

       “Perhaps you’re right. Oh, Skulduggery, what am I going to do with you?”

       “Untie me?”

       Serpine laughed. “Maybe later. We always seem to be at each other’s throats, don’t we?”

       “Let me ask you a question. Let’s pretend, just for a moment, that we live in your world, where things are crazy and the Faceless Ones are real. When you call them, what do you hope to gain? A pat on the head?”

       “How my lords and masters will reward me for my servitude is up to them. I would never presume to guess.”

       “The door is closed, Nefarian. Just us two guys in here, chatting. What’s in it for you?”

       Serpine leaned in. “I get to be by their side when they raze this world, when they expunge the stain of humanity. And when it’s over, I get to bask in their terrible glory.”

       Skulduggery nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t a clue what you just said.” Serpine laughed.

       “You’re going to fall,” Skulduggery continued.

       “Really?”

       “You’re going to fall hard and I’m going to be there. I’ll be the one pushing you.”

       “Big talk from the man tied to the chair. Or are you even a man? A thing, perhaps? An oddity?”

       “They’ll come for you.”

       “Who will? The Elders? Meritorious and his lot? Please. They’re too busy worrying about being rude to me.”

       “Not after this. They’re probably at your doorstep as we speak.”

       Serpine stood, walked behind his captive. “Somehow I don’t think they would be able to marshal their forces so quickly. Or so efficiently. No, my old enemy, I think for the moment anyway, we’re all alone. And you have something I want.”

       “A winning sense of style?”

       “The key,” Serpine said as he walked back into the detective’s line of sight.

       “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

       Serpine was moving his left hand slightly, like he was conducting music. “Obviously you’re not going to just offer up the information, so I think a spot of torture is required.”

       “Ah,” the detective said. “Old times.”

       “I remember those dark autumn days that I’d while away, cutting you, making you cry out.”

       “Fun for the whole family.”

       “You may think my options would be limited as far as torture is concerned, especially now that you don’t have skin to cut. But I’ve picked up a few new tricks that I think you’ll enjoy.”

       Serpine moved his fingers in a wave motion, directing it at the chair he had just been sitting on. The wood creaked and groaned as it expanded and contracted, like it was breathing. The detective couldn’t avoid looking at it.

       “If I can do that to the chair,” Serpine said, enjoying the moment, “think what I can do to bone.” There was a loud crack as the chair splintered.

       Serpine hunkered down in front of him. “Well,

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