Mortal Coil. Derek Landy
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“I know,” said Skulduggery sadly.
“How can you even see right now?”
He glanced back at her. The mouth of the façade was gaping wide over his left eye socket.
“That is so wrong,” she murmured.
They continued walking.
“There’s only one reason why China ever goes down into the basement,” Skulduggery said. “Well, it’s also where she keeps her car. OK, so there’s only two reasons why she ever goes down there, apart from the fact that it’s secure and dry and it works well as a storage area. So that’s three, only three reasons why she ever goes down there, and apart from the car and the storage, the main reason is privacy. Seclusion. Why does she need privacy and seclusion?”
“Don’t know.”
“She needs privacy and seclusion when she catches someone trying to steal from her.” They reached the ground floor.
“How do we get there?” Valkyrie asked. “Is there an invisible elevator? A trapdoor? Oh, is it one of those fire station poles that we get to slide down?”
Skulduggery went to the broom closet, and opened the door. There were no brooms in there, and no floor. There were only—
“Stairs,” Valkyrie said, disappointed.
“Not just ordinary stairs,” Skulduggery told her as he led the way down. “Magic stairs.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes.”
She followed him into the darkness. “How are they magic?”
“They just are.”
“In what way?”
“In a magicky way.”
She glared at the back of his head. “They aren’t magic at all, are they?”
“Not really.”
The basement was cold. A dim bulb struggled valiantly against the darkness. They walked down a narrow corridor between chain-link walls, passing stacks of boxes and crates. Rusted pipes crossed the ceiling, the failing light making them look like boa constrictors, liable to drop down and snatch the pair of them up and slowly squeeze the life out of them. Out of her. Skulduggery had no life to squeeze.
They heard voices ahead. Finally, the chain-link maze came to an end, and they stepped into a wide-open space, illuminated only by the headlights from an idle car. A man was on his knees, doing his best to shield his eyes. Whether he was shielding his eyes from the blinding light or the blinding beauty of the woman who stood above him was hard to tell.
China Sorrows was cast in half-shadow. Her raven hair was tied off her face in a simple ponytail. The light hit her back and made her clothes shine and her skin glow. She held a book by her side. Skulduggery and Valkyrie stayed where they were, watching silently.
“I’m sorry!” the man sobbed. “Oh God, Miss Sorrows, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do it!”
“You didn’t mean to hide this book under your jacket and leave without telling me?” China clarified. “This is a very valuable edition, and would be sorely missed from my collection.”
“Please. Please, I have a family. They’re starving.”
“And so you planned to feed them the book?”
“No … No, but …”
“You planned to sell it then. To whom, I wonder?”
“I don’t … I can’t …”
“If you tell me who the interested party is, I will let you go.” At a wave of her hand, a section of wall opened up at the top of a concrete ramp – obviously the means of exit for her car – and daylight flooded the gloom. “You will never be allowed back here, and you will cross the street and run away to avoid me, but I will take no further action. Against you. The actions I will take against the interested party, however, will be quite severe, even by my standards. I never ask twice – my patience is quite short. You will tell me now.”
He sagged. “Eliza Scorn.”
If there was any reaction shown in China’s face, the shadows hid it. “I see,” she said. “You may leave.”
“I … can?”
China sighed, and the man scrambled up, wiped his eyes, and hurried towards the ramp.
“Wait,” China said. She looked at him for a long moment. “If you return to Eliza Scorn without this book, she will most likely kill you and your pathetic starving family.” She held it out. “Take it.”
“Really?”
“I have three more around here somewhere. Take it before I change my mind.”
He scurried back to her, accepting the book. “Thank you,” he wept. “Thank you for your kindness and your, and your beauty. I … I love you, Miss Sorrows. I’ve never loved anyone as much as—”
“You have a pathetic starving family to get back to, you grubby little man. Get back to them.”
He tore his eyes away from her and ran, wailing, up the ramp and out into the alley. The wall closed up behind him, and China turned, allowing the light to cast itself over her perfect features.
“An act of kindness,” she said, “purely for your benefit, Valkyrie. I know how much you dislike me being mean to people.”
Valkyrie stepped out of the shadows, smiling. “Kindness suits you.”
“Really? I think I’m quite allergic to it. Now what can I do for you both? Perhaps you are here seeking my opinion on matters discussed at this top-secret meeting to which I was not invited?”
“You may not have been there,” Skulduggery said, “but I’m sure a woman of your resources has heard detailed accounts of everything that was spoken about.”
“Nonsense. That meeting was highly confidential. Congratulations, by the way.”
Skulduggery grunted. “There’s nothing to congratulate.”
“Don’t be so modest – I haven’t laughed so hard in years. Erskine, possibly, has the makings of a good Elder, and Corrival Deuce is an inspired choice for Grand Mage. But you? Skulduggery my dear … that is inspired lunacy.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see how it all pans out, but I’m afraid we’re here on matters much more cosmetic.” Skulduggery took a step out of the gloom, and China saw his drooping face.
“Oh dear,” she said.
“It gets better when I do this.” He began slapping himself and shaking