frowned. “Being a living skeleton isn’t identification enough?”
“Corporal Yonder has always been a stickler for the little rules that make life worth living,” Skulduggery said, taking a wallet from his jacket and handing it over. “Though not so keen on the bigger rules, are you, Corporal?”
Yonder didn’t answer, just glared at them both before opening up the wallet and examining the credentials within. “State your business,” he said at last.
“We’ve come to pick up an ID just like that one, which has been delivered here for collection,” Skulduggery said. “My partner has finally agreed to accompany me on an investigation. It is truly a momentous day.”
Yonder closed the wallet with a flick of his wrist, but held on to it. “It doesn’t feel momentous to me,” he said. “It feels like a Tuesday. You can’t use the car park.”
Skulduggery’s tone was amused. “I can’t?”
“The car park is for Sanctuary staff only.”
“I have jurisdiction here, do I not?”
“The way it’s been explained to me,” Yonder said, “is that while you may technically have jurisdiction, we are not obligated to assist you in any way. So you can’t use the car park. It’s staff only. Also, there are no pets allowed.”
“Well,” said Skulduggery, “that’s quite rude. I mean, I wouldn’t call Valkyrie a pet so much as a—”
Valkyrie sighed. “He meant the dog.”
“Oh,” Skulduggery said. “Yes, the dog. I can assure you, Corporal Yonder, that the dog will be staying in the car.”
Yonder opened his mouth to argue, then turned, somewhat sharply, and Valkyrie watched a City Guard with three stripes around his shoulder striding towards them. Valkyrie recognised him from his time as a Sanctuary operative. His name was … dammit, what was it? Larrup? She was pretty sure it was Larrup. He was saying something she couldn’t hear, but it made Yonder flush a deep red. Yonder stepped back, jaw clenched, as Larrup reached them.
“Detective Pleasant,” Larrup said, snatching the wallet out of Yonder’s hand, “my apologies for the delay. You have business inside?”
“Yes, we do,” said Skulduggery.
“Go right in, sir.” Larrup returned Skulduggery’s ID to him, then waved for the Cleavers to stand aside. He bent down, looked in at Valkyrie. “Detective Cain,” he said. “Good to have you back.”
“I’m not back,” said Valkyrie. “I’m visiting.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Larrup. “Good to have you back, nonetheless.”
He gave them a quick salute and the Bentley moved forward smoothly, and took the ramp down, into the High Sanctuary.
“Explain,” Valkyrie said, a moment later.
Skulduggery steered them between the aisles of cars. “Explain what?”
“Why did the idiot think he could stop us parking here? You do still work for the Sanctuary, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Skulduggery said. “Well, no, not really.”
“But didn’t you tell me that you’d been made Commander of those morons?”
“I did, and I was, though they prefer the term City Guard, if I remember correctly …”
“So what happened?”
“I quit.” The Bentley swerved into an empty space and Skulduggery turned off the engine. “I felt I would be better suited operating outside the system, as it were, and it just so happened that there was a job opening for exactly that position.” They got out of the car. Xena barely stirred on the back seat.
“So, if you’re not City Guard Commander or a Sanctuary Detective, what are you?” Valkyrie asked as they started walking.
“Centuries ago,” Skulduggery said, “before the Sanctuaries were formed and each territory had its own Council of Elders, magical communities were bound together by way of a loose, international agreement of sorts. We’ll help you if you need it, providing you help us if we need it – that kind of thing. During this time there were certain sorcerers, much like the Marshal Service in the Old West, who delivered justice around the world and enforced the recognised law. They were called Arbiters. When the Sanctuaries came along, Arbiters weren’t needed, but the institution was never actually disbanded.”
“So the new Supreme Mage in all her majesty made you an Arbiter?” Valkyrie said.
“Actually, it was a lowly Grand Mage who bestowed that honour upon me,” Skulduggery said. “Grand Mage Naila. The African Sanctuary has troubles of its own right now, but they’ve been keeping an eye on how things have been going over here. As Arbiter, I now have jurisdiction all around the world and I’m free to investigate whatever I choose.”
“And who’s your boss?”
“Technically, I don’t have one.”
“How do you get paid?”
“I don’t do what I do for money.”
There was a low buzzing in Valkyrie’s ears that she tried to ignore. “But you do get paid, right? Who pays you?”
He sighed. “Each Sanctuary contributes a proportional amount in order to fund the Arbiter Corps.”
“And how many people are in the Arbiter Corps?”
“Including me and you? Two.”
“I’m not a part of it.”
“Your credentials were approved two hours ago.”
“By who?”
“Me.”
The buzzing got louder until it filled her head, and then her vision blurred for a moment, then came sharply into focus like a new lens being attached to a camera. The world suddenly burst with colour, a glorious red that overlaid Skulduggery’s body, and Valkyrie staggered.
“Valkyrie?” he asked. “Are you OK?”
She nodded, aware that she was blinking madly. “I’m just … I can see your aura.”
He tilted his head. “I didn’t know it was showing.”
“Give me a moment. It’ll go away.”
“Take your time,” he said, but even before he’d got the words out her vision had already snapped back to normal.
She straightened.
