Last Stand of Dead Men. Derek Landy

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Last Stand of Dead Men - Derek Landy

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this fair?”

      “It can’t be all bad,” Valkyrie said, trying for a reassuring smile. “You’re healthy, aren’t you? You’re alive. That’s something.”

      “Yeah,” Scapegrace said, face in his hands. “I suppose.”

      “And from what I’ve heard, the pub is doing really well.”

      At this, Thrasher’s face soured. “It’s just a pity our clientele couldn’t be a bit … classier, that’s all.”

      Scapegrace glared. “Our?

      “Sorry, Master. Yours.”

      “There is nothing wrong with my clientele. Most of them are old friends of mine. Well, not really friends, but … but people I’ve known for years.”

      “It’s nice that they’re supporting you,” Valkyrie said.

      Scapegrace took a moment. “They treat me differently,” he said. “They’re nicer to me. They laugh now when I say something funny. No one ignores me any more.”

      “That’s good.”

      “Yes,” he said, and then shook his head. “Oh, who am I kidding? At least when they ignored me, they ignored me for the man I was, not the woman I’m not. Now I’m just an object to them. A pretty face serving them drinks.”

      Thrasher’s eyes welled up. “They don’t see you like I see you.”

      Scapegrace whirled round to him instantly. “Again, kind of an odd thing to say.”

      “Sorry, Master.”

      “Stop saying odd things.”

      “Yes, Master.”

      Scapegrace turned back to Valkyrie and Skulduggery. “You need something. Information? I’m your man. Sort of.”

      “We’re looking for information about the Torment,” said Skulduggery.

      “Ah, the Torment. I haven’t thought about him for years.”

      “Who is he?” Thrasher asked.

      “He’s before your time,” Scapegrace said, somewhat wistfully. “He was a Child of the Spider, or an Old Man of the Spider, whatever. He didn’t like Valkyrie because he could sense Ancient blood in her, and also he just wasn’t a very nice man. He could turn into a giant spider, though, which was pretty cool. Skulduggery, remember the first time you questioned me? You wanted me to bring you to him. They were good times, weren’t they? I was so different then. I wasn’t a zombie. I wasn’t a woman. I was me.”

      “You brought the Torment to Roarhaven,” Valkyrie said. “You let him stay beneath this very pub.”

      “And did I get any thanks for that? All the work I put into converting the cellar into a place someone could live – do you know how long that took? I mean, fine, I may have stolen most of the materials, but it was still a huge undertaking.”

      Skulduggery tilted his head. “You stole the materials to convert the cellar?”

      “Sure I did. There were enough construction supplies coming into Roarhaven to rebuild the town ten times over.”

      “What was it all used for?”

      “Never did find out. But for ages I thought every house had another house underneath it, because there were just too many people here, you know? Too many people passing through, and I couldn’t see how they’d all fit. That’s how I got the idea to convert the cellar.”

      “There are tunnels connecting this building to the Sanctuary,” Skulduggery said. “There might be more. Buildings under buildings, as you said. Streets under streets.”

      “Maybe,” Scapegrace said, and shrugged. “I went looking one day, though. Couldn’t find anything. Although that could have just been because I’m rubbish and nobody likes me for who I am.”

      “I like you, Master,” Thrasher said.

      “You don’t count,” said Scapegrace.

      Skulduggery pressed onwards before the conversation derailed. “All of this was happening after the Torment arrived?”

      “No, a lot of it was going on before I ever met him. I convinced him to stay here because, you know, I thought it’d make the other mages respect me if I had someone like the Torment as a friend. But he hated me. He talked to other people. Never me.”

      “What other people? Who did he associate with?”

      “I don’t know. Everyone. He had meetings. I used to call them secret meetings, but they probably weren’t secret. They were just secret from me. People always wanted to talk to him, but I don’t think he was interested, I think he just wanted to retire. But that didn’t stop them. I remember the first time I saw Madame Mist come into town. At first I really wanted to find out what she looked like behind that veil, but then she creeped me out so much that I started to hide until she was gone.”

      “Ever hear him mention the Warlocks?”

      “Not that I can remember. Whenever Madame Mist was around, I didn’t go near the three of them.”

      “Three?”

      “Sorry?”

      “You said the three of them.”

      “Yes. The Torment and Madame Mist and the other guy.”

      “What other guy?”

      “I don’t know who he was.”

      “Do you remember what he looked like?”

      “Sure. He was … well, he was regular height. Might have been taller. Or maybe below average. But anyway, his hair was … there. I think. He had a … face …”

      “Do you remember anything specific about him?”

      Scapegrace furrowed his brow. “It’s like … it’s on the tip of my tongue, but …”

      “Don’t worry,” Valkyrie said. “We’ve been hearing a lot of that lately.”

      “Would you be willing to sit down with a Sensitive?” Skulduggery asked. “They can enter your mind and might be able to lift that block.”

      “My mind?” said Scapegrace. “No. God, no. That’s the only original part of me I have left.”

      “We need to know who that man is.”

      “Ask Madame Mist. They were always together. But no psychic is going rooting around in my brainspace, you got that? I have a secret identity to protect.”

      Valkyrie frowned. “What secret identity?”

      Scapegrace went pale. “None. No secret identity.”

      “What

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