Skulduggery Pleasant: Books 7 - 9. Derek Landy

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      Vengeous nodded. “I’ll triple the guard.”

      “You need to hunt them down!”

      “And I will do so. They will not escape our justice.”

      Scorn’s hands rose to the wood around her neck. “You should question those in the dungeons. They know. They know who’s doing this. That girl. Who is she?”

      “We don’t know yet. She’s working with the Resistance.”

      Scorn whispered, but even so Valkyrie could still hear her words. “Question her. Pull her fingernails off. Cut out her eyelids. She knows who is doing this.”

      “Hi, Eliza,” Valkyrie said.

      Scorn stiffened, turned away, and Vengeous glared.

      “Do not speak to my wife,” he snarled.

      Valkyrie ignored him. “Why the shackles, Eliza? Have you lost it so completely that you can’t be trusted?”

      Vengeous stormed over and Valkyrie forced herself not to flinch. “My wife wears those chains in penance for us all, to show the Faceless Ones that we are ready to be punished for what was done to them. She is a true believer. Her soul is righteous and pure, unlike yours.”

      “Diseased,” Scorn muttered.

      Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

      “Diseased!” Scorn shouted, her eyes on the cobbled ground. “Your soul is diseased! Rotten! Putrefying!”

      “That’s a nice sack you’re wearing.”

      “Stop her from talking to me!”

      Vengeous shoved Valkyrie against the wall, his hand tight around her windpipe.

      Scorn covered her face with her arms. “Stop her from looking at me! Stop her!”

      Strong fingers dug into Valkyrie’s cheek and pushed her head around until she was facing the other way. She heard Scorn’s quick footsteps and the clinking of chains as she neared.

      “Hurt her,” Scorn said, fury biting at her words. “Kill her. Tear her face off. Rip her tongue out. Take her eyes.”

      “Mevolent wants to speak with her,” Vengeous said.

      “He can speak with her corpse. He can speak with her carcass. He can speak with her rotting meat, when her head is on a pike. He can speak with her then.”

      “He is waiting, my wife.”

      “Let him wait! This wretch of a girl gazed upon my face! She spoke to me, spiteful words! The Faceless Ones demand her suffering!”

      “If that is so, then Mevolent will surely instruct me. Is he not the voice of the Faceless Ones on this earth?”

      All Valkyrie could hear in response was Scorn’s rapid breathing.

      “Go back to your prayers,” Vengeous said. “When I have delivered this wretch to Mevolent, I will return to you with the Commander of the City Mages. Together we will instruct him on how to police the cathedral.”

      “They’re terrorists,” Scorn said, her voice no more than a murmur.

      “Yes, they are, and they will be hunted as such. Go. Pray. I will be with you shortly.”

      There was a moment of silence, and then chains clinked, and Valkyrie heard Eliza walk away. Seconds later, Vengeous leaned into her.

      “I should crush your throat right now,” he said.

      Valkyrie started to say, You make a lovely couple, but she only got halfway through before Vengeous lifted her off her feet. Her legs kicked and she pawed at the hand around her neck.

      “I don’t know how much you know about me,” he said calmly, “but I do not enjoy trading barbed witticisms. Such things are a waste of my time. If you even attempt to make a joke in my presence, I will break a finger. Understood?”

      Spittle flew from Valkyrie’s lips, and Vengeous released her. She dropped to her knees, gasping for breath.

      “Very good,” said Vengeous. “Come now. Mevolent awaits.”

      The Palace was a marvel of stone and steel and glass and glinted so brightly in the sun that it was actually painful to look at. Its steeples and spires rose like thin blades to pierce the sky. This was what Valkyrie had seen from the other side of the wall, this Palace with its towers so high you could probably look out over the whole of Ireland from up there. Probably.

      A dozen men stood at the doors. Their left arms were armoured, their right arms bound in straps of leather. They wore heavy uniforms adorned with the three towers of Dublin, and each had a sword slung from a scabbard on their left hip, and a holstered gun on their right. City Mages, she guessed.

      The corridor beyond the doors was ridiculously wide. In the centre of it was a large tank filled with a pale green liquid. In that tank, the naked corpse of Mr Bliss floated, a chain around his ankle stopping him from simply rising to the top.

      “Mevolent likes to parade his vanquished enemies,” said Vengeous as they passed.

      Valkyrie pulled her eyes away, feeling hollow. The outside of the Palace may have been guarded by the City Mages, but the inside was the domain of the Redhoods. They stood like statues, scythes gripped in one hand, and she felt how her brown coat rubbed against her skin and how vulnerable it was. It would part as easily as her flesh to those scythes.

      They entered into a large room. On the far side was a small pool of black liquid from which steam rose, seemingly responsible for the foul smell that hung in the air. Beside the pool there was a man on his knees, surrounded by six Redhoods armed with long spears. He was slender, with narrow shoulders, and his hair was cut short. His skin was tinged yellow, like a nicotine stain that had covered his whole body. His head was down. She couldn’t see his face.

      “That’s Mevolent?” she asked, whispering.

      Vengeous didn’t answer.

      At some unseen command, the Redhoods stepped forward and drove their spears into Mevolent’s torso. He stiffened but didn’t scream. The Redhoods withdrew their spears and stepped back, and Mevolent fell forward on to one hand. He stayed there for a moment, gathering his strength, then resumed his kneeling position. Once again, the Redhoods took a step, and drove their spears in. This time Mevolent did scream. He threw his head back, his eyes screwed shut, and let out an agonised howl. The Redhoods shoved their spears deeper, twisted, and the scream was cut off. They withdrew, and Mevolent slumped to the ground, blood oozing from his many wounds.

      Something rose from the pool of black, something long-limbed and spider-like, slowly unravelling its arms as it straightened. The creature called Nye ignored Valkyrie completely as it reached for Mevolent, gently pulling him across the floor. The Redhoods stood to attention as Mevolent slid slowly into the pool.

      “Every day he dies,” Vengeous told her, keeping his voice down. “A short death, always violent. Always painful. Blood is always spilled. By doing this he will teach СКАЧАТЬ