the Elders must go through the proper channels,” he said, but Stephanie had heard enough. She barged past him, heading for the corridor. Suddenly there was a flash of grey and a Cleaver was before her, holding the blade of his scythe to her throat.
Stephanie froze. There was movement all around her, sound all around her, and the only still things in her world were herself and the Cleaver. She could hear Ghastly threatening the Administrator, threatening the Cleavers, and the Administrator protesting and insisting they leave. Ghastly’s voice was rising, becoming angry, telling the Cleaver to lower the weapon, but the Cleaver was still and silent, a statue. Stephanie could see her burnished reflection in his visor. She didn’t dare move.
Before the situation could spiral out of control, before Stephanie’s head became separated from her body, the Administrator gave in and agreed to ask Meritorious if he would receive visitors.
At a nod, the Cleaver stepped back and swung the scythe down by his side and behind him, making the mere sheathing of the weapon into an art form.
Stephanie backed off, moving slowly, but the Cleaver had gone back to his post like nothing had happened.
They stayed in the foyer while the Administrator hurried off, and presently they heard footsteps approaching. Eachan Meritorious entered and looked mildly surprised when he laid eyes on Ghastly.
“Mr Bespoke,” he said, coming forward. “Will wonders never cease?”
“Grand Mage,” Ghastly said as they shook hands. “You’ve already met Valkyrie Cain, I think.”
“So you chose a name after all,” Meritorious said with a slightly disapproving look. “I hope your Mr Pleasant knows what he’s doing.”
“Skulduggery’s been captured,” Stephanie blurted out. “Serpine has him.”
“Not this again.”
“It’s true,” Ghastly said.
Meritorious peered at him. “You saw it yourself?”
“Well,” Ghastly said, hesitating, “no, but—”
Meritorious waved his hand. “Skulduggery Pleasant is an excellent detective, and we value his help and his expertise on many difficult cases. But when it comes to Nefarian Serpine, he does not have his usual detached perspective.”
“Serpine has captured him!” Stephanie insisted.
“My dear, I like you. And I can see why Skulduggery likes you. You are a frighteningly upfront person and this is a quality to be admired. However, you are new to our culture and our ways, and you have heard a decidedly skewed version of our history. Serpine is not the villain he once was.”
“I was there,” Stephanie said, struggling to remain calm. “Serpine came with his paper creatures and they took him.”
This made Meritorious pause. “Paper creatures?”
“Well, it looked like they were made out of paper.”
He nodded slowly. “Hollow Men. Minions of Serpine. Terrible things, bloated by stink and evil.”
“Now do you believe me? We need to get him back.”
“Grand Mage,” Ghastly said, “my friend is in danger. I know you don’t want it to be true, but the Truce has been broken. Serpine and the sorcerers allied with him will waste no time in seizing power. The Elders must act now.”
“On what authority?” Meritorious asked. “On the word of a girl I barely know?”
“I’m not lying,” said Stephanie.
“But you may be mistaken.”
“I’m not. Serpine wants the Sceptre and he thinks Skulduggery can get it for him.”
“The Sceptre is a fairy tale—”
“The Sceptre is real,” Stephanie said, cutting him off. “It’s real enough that Serpine is after it, and he killed the two men you had spying on him so that you wouldn’t find out about it until it was too late.”
Meritorious hesitated for a moment. “Miss Cain, if you’re wrong, and we move against Serpine now, then we are starting a war we are not ready for.”
“I’m sorry,” Stephanie said, seeing the trepidation in the Elder’s eyes and speaking softly now. “But the war has already started.”
The paper clip lay on the tabletop and didn’t move. Stephanie focused, flexed her fingers and then thrust her palm towards it, trying to genuinely believe that thin air was nothing more than interlocking objects. The paper clip still didn’t move. She nudged it, just to make sure it wasn’t stuck or anything. Ghastly entered the room.
“We’re ready to go,” he said. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Very sure.” She put the paper clip in her pocket and nodded to the door behind him. “Is there an army out there?”
“Uh, not quite.”
“How many?”
He hesitated. “Two.”
“Two? He has an army of Cleavers and he gives us two?”
“Sending any more would arouse suspicion,” Ghastly said. “Meritorious needs a little time to contact Morwenna Crow and Sagacious Tome and convince them that action is necessary, and until he does, this rescue mission is strictly unofficial.”
“Please tell me they’re as good as Skulduggery said they are?”
“Both their uniforms and their scythes can ward off the majority of magical attacks, and there aren’t many deadlier in close combat.”
“Close combat?” Stephanie said with a frown. “What about throwing fireballs and stuff? Are they Elementals or Adepts?”
Ghastly cleared his throat. “Neither, actually. Magic corrupts certain people, and Cleavers need to be seen as completely impartial, so…”
“So they’re not magic? At all?”
“They have some magic, but it just adds to their combat abilities. They’re quite strong and very fast.”
“So what are they going to do? Run around Serpine until he gets dizzy and falls over?”
“If it all goes according to plan, Serpine won’t even know we’re there.”
“And what are the chances of that happening?”
Ghastly looked at her and for a moment he held his ground. Then he looked away. “They’re not great,” he admitted.
“Exactly.”
He looked up again. “But Mr Bliss has offered us his help.”
“He’s coming?” Stephanie asked nervously. She didn’t like the idea of going anywhere with Mr Bliss.
“Not him,” Ghastly said, “but he’s sending someone. Five is a good number; we can sneak in, grab Skulduggery, sneak out. Simple.”
The door opened behind them and Meritorious appeared. “I have arranged your transport,” he said.
They followed him up out of the Sanctuary and exited the Waxworks from the back, where a large van was parked. As soon as Meritorious emerged into the sunlight, two Cleavers walked forward. They took the scythes from their sheathes before they climbed in. Stephanie hoped the van didn’t go over any potholes or she’d be skewered before they even reached Serpine’s castle.
Another person walked forward, a person she recognised from the library.
“Tanith Low,” Meritorious said, “this is Ghastly Bespoke and Valkyrie Cain.”
“We’ve