laughed. “Maybe you are. Maybe. But not like this. Not … concentrated like this. It can be overwhelming. The urge to destroy just to destroy … it is a powerful urge.”
Pleasant tilted his head. “You think I’ll turn against you.”
“It’s possible,” said Lethe. “These urges can make people do terribly destructive things, not always in our favour. And if that happens we’ll kill you, naturally, but I’m hoping that you’ll decide to join us. All we want is our rightful place as kings and queens of this world. Wouldn’t you love to walk through O’Connell Street or Times Square or Piccadilly Circus without bothering with your false face? Isn’t it time that sorcerers like you and Neoterics like us stopped hiding away from the mortals? Isn’t it time we took up our crowns? Maybe you don’t agree. Maybe you’re happy where you are.”
“I’ve never had a problem with the mortals,” Pleasant said. “One of my best friends was a mortal.”
“So you’re not going to help us?”
“I didn’t say that. Those dark thoughts you mentioned, they’re doing quite a number on my morality, such as it is. There are all kinds of people I suddenly want to kill, mortals included. I’ll help you, because I like your plan and I’m interested in seeing if it’ll work, but I have one condition. More of an unbreakable rule, actually. Valkyrie Cain is mine.”
“Ah,” said Lethe. “Yes, we thought you might bring this up. Valkyrie Cain, unfortunately, is already promised to Cadaverous here.”
“And I’m not letting her go,” Cadaverous said.
Pleasant turned his eye sockets to him, and Cadaverous could see the light reflecting on the inside of his skull. “You blame Valkyrie for your friend’s death.”
“Jeremiah Wallow,” Cadaverous said. “He had a name.”
“And yet, the way Valkyrie tells it, Mr Wallow fell. She didn’t push him. She didn’t kill him.”
“She’s responsible for his death.”
“So is gravity, but you’re not out to kill gravity, are you? Your friend is dead, you’re angry and upset, you want someone to blame. Perfectly understandable, if completely redundant. Your sadly deceased friend’s own clumsy incompetence does not guarantee you the right to Valkyrie’s life. It just doesn’t.”
“I’ve already staked my claim.”
“Calling shotgun does not guarantee you a front seat, Cadaverous. We’re not children here, are we?”
“Skulduggery,” Lethe said, “I’m afraid we have already agreed that Cadaverous kills Valkyrie.”
Pleasant went quiet for a moment, and sat back, steepling his fingers. “I’m trying to decide,” he said.
“Decide what?” Lethe asked.
Pleasant stood, and took out his gun. “Which one of you I kill first.”
“Sit down,” said Smoke, walking into the room, and immediately Pleasant sat. It was a petty joy that leaped into Cadaverous’s heart, but it was a joy, nonetheless.
“How’s it feel,” Nero asked, “to be his puppet?”
“This is an odd sensation,” Pleasant muttered.
Smoke sat at the table. “I control you. You do what I tell you. If I instruct you to dance for us, you’ll dance for us. If I instruct you to only talk in rhyming couplets, that’s what you’ll do. You are mine – you understand that? You have no free will when it comes to me.”
“This is interesting,” Pleasant said. “But I’m afraid it’s completely unacceptable.” In a flash, the gun was pointed straight at Smoke’s head—
—but Pleasant’s finger froze over the trigger.
Smoke sighed. “You think you’re the first person to try that? Seriously? You can’t and won’t hurt me. Put the gun away.”
“But of course,” the skeleton said, holstering the weapon inside his jacket like it was his own idea. Cadaverous found that vaguely annoying. “Where were we?”
“I was about to suggest a compromise,” Lethe said, “regarding this whole killing Valkyrie disagreement.”
Cadaverous leaned forward. “No compromise,” he said. “We had a deal.”
Lethe held up a hand. “You both will refrain from killing her until, at the earliest, the resurrection of Abyssinia. The moment is close, but has yet to arrive, and who knows what will happen before then? If only one of you reaches the moment, you get to kill Miss Cain. If both of you survive until then, you’ll fight for the honour.”
Cadaverous frowned. “In a place of my choosing?”
“You were first to make the claim, so yes.”
Cadaverous smiled. “Deal.”
Pleasant shrugged. “I’m in,” he said, and clapped his hands. “So, what’s the next step?”
“First Wave,” said Lethe. “This is a crucial juncture and they need guidance. They need Parthenios Lilt.”
“He’s being kept in a cell in the High Sanctuary,” Pleasant said. “Do we break him out?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Lethe responded. “We have our man on the inside who can take care of this for us.”
Pleasant tilted his head again. “Who?”
“A man on the inside,” Lethe repeated. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
Pleasant shrugged. “If you have a secret you want to keep, then you keep your secret. Just tell me what you want me to do. How about the Soul Catcher that Melior’s going to need for the resurrection? I happen to know where we could pick one up without too much trouble.”
“Again,” said Lethe, “that is already taken care of. We have one that Destrier is adapting to Doctor Melior’s specifications. Your job, Skulduggery, will be to track down a Neoteric. The good doctor reckons he’ll need the life force of two sacrificial lambs for the ritual to be successful, but I think three. It’s better to have a sacrificial lamb and not need it, than need a sacrificial lamb and not have it. Memphis and Nero, you’ll be going after the first. Smoke and I will go after the second. Skulduggery … you’ll be teaming up with Cadaverous here, and you’ll bring us back the third. Is that OK with you?”
Pleasant spread his arms wide. “I’m part of the team, Lethe. I’ll do whatever I’m told.”
“Wait a second,” Razzia said, frowning. “How come I don’t get to play?”
“Well,” said Lethe, “someone has to stay here and make sure Doctor Melior doesn’t go anywhere and Destrier doesn’t accidentally suck everyone’s souls into a snow globe.”
“You better not be assigning me babysitting duties because of my gender,” Razzia said, getting to her feet slowly. “I may be a very nurturing person by nature, but I will kill every ratbag at this table if you think you can—”
“It’s nothing to do with your gender, Razzia,” Lethe said, hands up in a calming gesture. “And it’s got nothing to do with your nurturing nature. It’s your murderous nature that disqualifies you from this assignment. It’s imperative that each of the sacrificial lambs is brought back alive.”
Razzia paused. “Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Not