what we are.”
“And what street is that, exactly?”
Ravel shrugged. “Probably one of the dumber ones, to be honest. Maybe you’re right. We’ll tell Skulduggery we found it, and Lament can come over and get it working.”
“That’s a really good idea, Grand Mage.”
“I sometimes have them.”
They left the Accelerator and retraced their steps, eventually finding their way back to a corridor they recognised. It was cold and damp and the lights flickered overhead. They passed a corner that should have been guarded by a Cleaver. There was no Cleaver there now. Ghastly checked his watch. Early shift-change, maybe – although he wasn’t aware of any Cleaver who’d ever left his post unguarded in their entire history.
Three mages hurried their way. Ghastly didn’t know any of them particularly well. Brennock was the big one, and the woman was Paloma. Tevhan, the third, was the strong, silent type that liked to glower at everyone.
“Grand Mage,” said Brennock, “Elder Bespoke. I’m sorry to interrupt, but there is an emergency call from Detective Pleasant.”
Ravel quickened his pace. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, Grand Mage. He will only talk to you.”
Brennock and Paloma fell in on either side of Ravel, and Tevhan waited on Ghastly to catch up. All three of them Roarhaven mages. Ghastly took out the map as he walked, scanning the fine print until he found the names of the sorcerers who’d been assigned to draw it up. He found them, and nodded to Tevhan as he passed. Three names. Brennock, Paloma and Tevhan.
“Grand Mage,” Ghastly said, as he put the map away, “did you know that the sparrow flies south for winter?”
“What an odd thing to say,” Ravel said, and as he turned, he snapped his palm against the air and Paloma slammed into the wall.
Ghastly spun, catching Tevhan with a right cross that buckled his knees, making him drop the knife he was sliding from his sleeve. Ghastly hit him again, and again, never giving him a chance to get his bearings. Tevhan was an Adept, but Ghastly didn’t know what discipline he’d trained in. He wasn’t going to take any chances.
When Tevhan went down, Ghastly turned back to Ravel in time to see him sweep Brennock’s legs from under him. Brennock’s head smacked into the ground and Ravel gave him an extra kick to make him stay there.
“What do you know,” Ravel said, breathing a little faster, “Skulduggery’s silly little code actually works.”
“Sorry for the extra trouble,” Ghastly said, “but we needed to talk to you over a secure line, as it were.” His image was transparent but he sounded like he was actually standing right there in front of them.
“I should get this for my phone,” Valkyrie said.
“Trouble with the Supreme Council?” Skulduggery asked.
“No, actually,” said Ravel. “Well, yes, but this isn’t because of them. We found the Accelerator. It’s in good condition but it doesn’t work.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Skulduggery said. “Lament is confident he can get it running. What’s the other problem?”
“We were attacked,” Ghastly said. “Roarhaven mages. People who have been working beside us for the last year. We’ve managed to keep it quiet so far. Our own people trying to kill us is not something we want to explain to Strom and the others right now.”
“So far, our would-be assassins haven’t given us any answers,” Ravel said. “Our Sensitives have tried breaking through but they know how to block psychic probes.”
“Do you think they attacked because of the Accelerator?” Skulduggery asked. “How did they even find out you were looking for it?”
Ghastly glanced at Ravel, who chewed his lip. Eventually he said, “We think our phones have been tapped. And that’s not the only problem. It seems that every Cleaver in that area had been reassigned minutes before, to give our attackers a clear chance. We’ve talked to a few people and no one can explain to us how this happened.”
“I can,” said Valkyrie. “It was Madame Mist.”
“We don’t know that,” Ravel said quickly. “And even if she had wanted to kill us, this is much too clumsy for someone like her.”
“She might be getting desperate,” said Skulduggery. “If she already knew about the Accelerator’s existence, then she wouldn’t have wanted you stumbling upon it.”
“And if she didn’t know of its existence?”
“If she just found out about it by listening in to our conversation, then she may have simply seen her chance and latched on to it, however clumsily.”
“Maybe,” Ravel said. “But I’m still not convinced.”
“Even so, an attempt on your lives is a major step for anyone to take. If they’ve gone this far, they’ll go further.”
“We need greater control over the Cleavers,” Ghastly said. “They don’t question orders. If Mist – or whoever – used them against us once, she might do so again, and I don’t fancy going up against those scythes.”
“Agreed,” said Skulduggery. “Erskine, you should take direct control from now on – the Cleavers take orders from the Grand Mage and that’s it. Mist has Roarhaven on her side. We need the Cleavers on ours.”
“But their numbers are still depleted,” Ravel pointed out. “If Mist is behind this and we go up against her, even with the Cleavers and whatever mages are loyal to us, we can’t be guaranteed of winning. We need more. We need an advantage.”
All three fell silent. None of them wanted to state the obvious.
“We could ask the Supreme Council for help,” Valkyrie said.
“Let’s change the subject before I hit someone,” Ghastly said, and Ravel’s image immediately shifted away from him slightly. “What do we need to do to get this Accelerator working?”
“Lament will have to take a look at it,” Skulduggery said. “Can you get it shipped up here?”
Ravel shook his head. “It can’t be moved. From what we understand, the Sanctuary itself acts as a kind of lightning rod. If you want to use it to power Argeddion’s cage, you’re going to have to bring the cage to Roarhaven.”
“OK,” said Skulduggery, “it shouldn’t take too much convincing to get Lament to agree to that. I also think Valkyrie’s ex-boyfriend will come in handy here.”
Ravel frowned. “The dead vampire?”
Valkyrie glared at him. “I think he means Fletcher.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Caelan was never my boyfriend.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“We don’t talk about Caelan,” Ghastly muttered.
“I’m really sorry, Valkyrie,” Ravel said. “Fletcher’s great. He’s wonderful. I’m sure he’d be delighted to