Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 1 - 12. Derek Landy

      he doors swung open and High Priest Auron Tenebrae strode into the room, his robe swirling around his tall, narrow frame. To his right was Quiver, a miser with words, but overly generous with withering glares. To Tenebrae’s left, Craven, a bland sycophant, possessed of an uncanny skill to worm his way into his superior’s good graces. Solomon Wreath had been seeing far too much of all three lately.

      “Cleric Wreath,” Tenebrae said, nodding imperiously at him.

      “Your Eminence,” Wreath responded, bowing deeply. “To what do I owe the honour?”

      “Why do you think we’re here?” Craven said, almost sneered. “You’re late with your report. Did you think the High Priest would forget? Do you think him a fool?”

      “I do not think him a fool, no,” Wreath answered calmly. “But as to the intelligence of the people who accompany him, I’m afraid I cannot say.”

      “An insult!” Craven screeched. “How dare you! How dare you use a derogatory tone in the presence of the High Priest!”

      “Enough,” Tenebrae sighed, “both of you. Your constant bickering tries my patience.”

      “My humblest apologies,” Craven said immediately, bowing and closing his eyes, his lower lip trembling on the verge of tears. A magnificent performance, as usual.

      “Yes,” Wreath said. “Sorry about that.”

      “Despite Cleric Craven’s overt dramatics,” Tenebrae said, “he is quite correct to point out that you are late with your report. How is Valkyrie Cain progressing through her studies?”

      “She’s a fast learner,” said Wreath. “As far as the practical side goes anyway. She’s a natural at shadow casting, and every time I see her she’s improved.”

      “And the philosophical aspect?” Quiver asked.

      “Is not progressing nearly as smoothly,” Wreath admitted. “She doesn’t seem to be at all interested in the history or the teachings of the Order. It’s going to take a lot to open her mind to it.”

      “The skeleton has already poisoned her against us,” Tenebrae said bitterly.

      “I fear you may be right. But I still think the effort is worth it.”

      “And I have yet to be convinced.”

      “Just because the girl is a fast learner,” Quiver said, “does not mean she is the Death Bringer.”

      “Cleric Quiver speaks the truth,” Tenebrae nodded.

      Wreath did his best to look humble, keeping his comments to himself. He’d been searching for their saviour, for the one who would save the world from itself, for most of his life. He knew full well the danger of false hope and blind alleys – he’d had his fair share of both. But Valkyrie Cain was different. He felt it. Valkyrie Cain was the one.

      “She troubles me,” Tenebrae said. “Does she have potential? Absolutely. With training and with study, she could be the best of us. But the best of us still falls far short of what the Death Bringer should be.”

      “I’ll keep working with her,” Wreath said. “In two years, maybe three, we’ll have a better understanding of what she’s capable of.”

      “Three years?” Tenebrae laughed. “A lot can happen, as we have seen, in a short space of time. Serpine. Vengeous. The Diablerie. Dare we risk being sidetracked by a mistake? While we are busy testing Miss Cain, another one of Mevolent’s disciples might actually succeed in their insane goals and bring back the Faceless Ones for good. What if, as you yourself fear, Cleric Wreath, Lord Vile returns to punish us all?

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