tells us that the painter, or the painter’s family, can offer us a glimpse into the past, and that is what we in the profession call a clue. A clue is part of a mystery, a mystery is a puzzle. I hold in my hands a puzzle box.”
Skulduggery’s fingers played over the surface of the box and Stephanie saw his head tilt. He pressed his hands against opposite sides, making subtle rotations until something clicked. There was a noise, like the whirring of a motorised part, and the top of the box opened to reveal a blue gemstone.
“Ah,” Skulduggery said.
Stephanie peered closer. The gem was a little bigger than a golf ball. “What? What is it?”
“It’s an Echo Stone,” he said. “Very rare. Generally, it’s used by people who are dying. They sleep with the stone close by for three nights, and in doing so they imprint it with their memories and personality. It’s given to loved ones to help comfort them through their grief, or to answer any lingering questions they might have, things like that.”
“How does it work?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “I’ve never seen one up close.” He pressed a fingertip to the Stone and it immediately started to glow. His head tilted again and he sounded very pleased with himself. “Would you look at that? I’m such a genius.”
“You just touched it.”
“Still a genius, Stephanie.” She sighed.
A moment slipped by and then an old man faded up from nothing before them. Stephanie stepped back.
“Don’t be alarmed,” the old man said, smiling. He was wearing a robe and he had kind eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you, young lady. I am here to answer questions and provide whatever information I can to assist you in your…” His voice trailed off. He was looking at Skulduggery. “My, oh my. You’re a skeleton.”
“I am.”
“As I live and breathe… figuratively speaking, of course, as I neither live nor breathe. But a skeleton, and a talking skeleton at that!”
“I am very impressive,” Skulduggery said. “Who are you?”
“My name is Oisin and I am here to answer whatever questions you may have.”
“Well that’s good news, because we’re looking for a few answers.”
“How did you manage that then?” Oisin asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Becoming a skeleton. That’s a new one on me.”
“Well, it’s a long story.”
Oisin waved his hand. “Better not tell me. This Stone will only work for a short while before it needs to be charged. I don’t have a lot of time to give you the answers you seek.”
“Then we’d better start.”
“Yes, we had better. Was it painful, though? Losing your flesh?”
“I, uh, I don’t mean to be rude, Oisin, but aren’t you the one supposed to be answering questions? Not asking them?”
Oisin laughed. “I admit, I’m a little too curious for my own good. On the other hand, I do have an in-depth knowledge of the Stories of the Ancients, so in many ways, I’m the ideal candidate. Better suited to this than my colleagues, believe me. Before we get started, could I ask what century this is?”
“The twenty-first,” Stephanie said.
“Twenty-first?” he repeated, laughing with delight. “Oh, my! So this is what the future looks like, eh? Kind of… gloomy and cluttered. I always thought it’d be brighter, you know? So what’s been happening in the world?”
“You… you want us to tell you everything you missed?”
“Well, not everything. Just the high points. What language am I speaking, by the way?”
Stephanie frowned. “English.”
“English, eh? Marvellous. I’ve never spoken English before. How does it sound?”
“Uh, fine, I suppose. Does the stone translate what you’re saying?”
“Yes, it does. I could have used something like this on my travels, I’ll tell you that much. It would have really impressed the ladies!” He started to chuckle, then stopped. “Not that I travelled far. Or at all. I don’t trust boats, you see. If nature had intended us to travel across water, we would have been provided with fins.”
“Can we ask you a question?” Skulduggery asked. “Again, I don’t want to be rude, but if the Stone runs out of power before we learn what we need…”
The old man clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Of course, my boy! Say no more! Ask me your first question!”
“You’re an expert on the Ancients?”
“Yes, I am. I’m the one charged with the task of documenting their existence. It’s a great honour, even if it does leave me with precious little time to travel. Not that I would, even if I could. But it’d be nice to have options, you know?”
“Yes… Anyway, we need to know about the Sceptre. We need to know its power.”
Oisin nodded. “The Sceptre of the Ancients was created to destroy and destroy it does. There is nothing that will not crumble to dust under its glare.”
“Is there any kind of defence against it?”
Oisin shook his head. “No shield, no spell, no barrier. It can’t be stopped and it can’t be destroyed.”
“What about its power source?” Stephanie asked.
“A single crystal, a black crystal, embedded in its hilt, capable of channelling the energy that’s poured into it.”
“And can the crystal be destroyed?”
Oisin gave a little frown. “I’ve thought about this, actually. I know more about the Sceptre than anyone else since the time of the, Ancients, certainly more than any of my colleagues, and while there is no record of a weakness, we have translations of texts that suggest the crystal can be destroyed from within.”
“How?” Stephanie asked.
“I, um… I don’t really know.”
“Who created the Sceptre?” Skulduggery asked.
Oisin puffed out his chest. “‘The Sceptre was created by the Ancients as a weapon to be used against their gods. For one year they toiled, out of sight and in darkness, so that the gods could not see what they were creating.’”
His chest deflated and he smiled. “That’s a direct quote from one of the first texts we found. I found it, actually. The others were so jealous. That’s probably why they didn’t want me to be the one to answer your questions.”
Stephanie frowned. “You’re not supposed to be here?”
“We had a vote. I voted for me. No one else did. They’re just jealous. They said I’d waste time, talk too much. So I stole the stone and went away for a few days to imprint it with my consciousness. They can’t imprint anything over it, you see. And now here I am.” He beamed, then his whole body faded, became suddenly transparent, and his beaming smile vanished. “Ah. Time seems to be running out. If you have any more questions…”
“Who created the crystal?” Skulduggery asked quickly.
“Well, if you’ll allow me to quote from the text that I discovered: ‘The Faceless Ones created the crystal and the crystal sang to the Faceless Ones when an enemy neared. But when the Ancients approached the crystal was silent, and it did not sing to the Faceless Ones,