then put the car in gear and was about to drive off when Tanith got in behind them.
“No need to get all dramatic about it,” she muttered and Stephanie managed to smile. Skulduggery pulled out on to the road, driving fast.
“Where are we going?” Stephanie asked.
“Weren’t you listening?” Skulduggery responded, sounding like he was back to his old self. “We’re going to stop Serpine. I just made a whole speech about it. It was very good.”
Tanith leaned forward. “You know where he is?”
“Yes, I do. It came to me just there as I was filling the tank.”
“What did?”
“The Sceptre. Why did Serpine go after the Sceptre?”
Stephanie frowned. “Because it’s the ultimate weapon.”
“And why did he want it?”
“To, you know, to retrieve the ritual he needs to bring the Faceless Ones back, to force whoever knows it to tell him.”
“No.”
“He isn’t going to use it to retrieve the ritual?”
“The Sceptre’s too clumsy, too unwieldy. If he threatens to kill the only person in the world who knows how to work the ritual – what if that person chooses death rather than hand it over? What’s he supposed to do then? No. He used the Sceptre to kill the Elders. That’s the only reason he wanted it. He knew he wasn’t powerful enough to take them on without it.”
“And so how does that help him retrieve the ritual?”
“This isn’t just about the ritual any more. What do you get if you kill the Elders?”
“This sounds like a joke.”
“Valkyrie—”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Now think. What would killing the Elders result in?”
“Panic? Fear? Three empty parking spaces in the Sanctuary?”
Skulduggery looked at her and Stephanie’s confusion lifted. “Oh, God,” she said.
“He’s after the Book,” Skulduggery said. “He needed the Sceptre to kill Meritorious and Morwenna Crow in order to dismantle the spell protecting it. He doesn’t have to force anyone to do anything; all he’ll have to do is ask. He’s been after the Book of Names all along.”
CARNAGE
Stephanie had expected to arrive in the middle of a pitched battle – she expected to hear the sounds of fighting. But the Waxworks was silent. As they walked through the exhibits to the hidden door, Skulduggery slowed and eventually came to a complete stop.
“What’s wrong?” Stephanie whispered.
He turned his head slowly, peering into the darkness. “I don’t want to alarm anybody, but we’re not alone.”
That’s when they came, the Hollow Men, detaching themselves from the shadows with only the faintest rasp of warning. In an instant they were surrounded by the mindless, heartless, soulless things.
Tanith waded through them, her sword strokes deliberate and devastating, every move claiming another un-life. Skulduggery clicked his fingers and a group of Hollow Men were suddenly alight. Stephanie shrank back as they wheeled around blindly. The flames ate through their skin and ignited the putrid gas trapped inside, and with a burst of fire and heat, the Hollow Men fell.
One of them avoided the flames and lunged at Stephanie and she punched it square in the face, her fist sinking into its head slightly. Its own fist swung at her and she ducked, then moved into it like she’d seen Skulduggery do, jammed her hip into it and twisted, and the Hollow Man hit the ground. It wasn’t graceful and it wasn’t pretty, but it worked. While it was down there she grabbed its wrist and stomped on its chest, and with a loud tear she pulled its arm off.
As the Hollow Man deflated beneath her, Stephanie realised everything had gone quiet again. She looked up at Skulduggery and Tanith, realised they’d been watching her.
“Not bad,” Tanith said, an eyebrow raised.
“That’s the last of them,” Skulduggery said. “Now for the main event.”
The hidden door to the Sanctuary hung open like a gaping wound. A dead Cleaver lay just inside. Stephanie hesitated for a moment, then stepped over the body and they followed the steps down.
The Sanctuary’s foyer had witnessed most of the carnage. It was littered with the dead. There were no wounded here, there were no dying – there were only corpses. Some had been cut to ribbons, some were unmarked and there were places, spread across the floor, where there was only the dust of those who had fallen before the Sceptre. Stephanie tried to step without touching the remains, but they were piled so deep that this was impossible.
She passed the Administrator. His body was curled, his fingers hooked and frozen in death. His face was a mask of agony. A victim of Serpine’s red right hand.
Skulduggery went to the doorway on their left and peered around, making sure the corridor was empty. Tanith passed, pressing herself against the wall and nodding to him. He moved forward, stopped, nodded back to her, and they continued like this as they stalked deeper into the Sanctuary.
No more walking straight into danger, Stephanie thought to herself. This was the only sign they gave that they might actually be afraid.
She followed along behind. Her palms were slick with sweat and her mouth was dry. She felt as if her legs weren’t going to support her for very much longer. Her thoughts went to her parents, her loving parents. If she died here, if she died tonight, would they even notice? Her reflection would carry on with its empty masquerade and they’d gradually begin to realise that this thing, this thing they thought was their daughter, its affections weren’t even real. They’d realise it was all an act, but they’d still think it was her. And they’d live out the rest of their days thinking that their own daughter didn’t love them.
Stephanie didn’t want to put them through that. She was going to die, she knew she was. She should turn now, and run, run away. This wasn’t her business. This wasn’t her world. It was like Ghastly said, the first time she met him – Gordon had already lost his life because of this nonsense. Was she
