Kingdom of the Wicked. Derek Landy

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      “Run!” he shouted, and cried out as the big man snapped his neck.

      Valkyrie ran, kept running, found herself skirting the top tier of the Observation Deck. Two convicts were sitting against the wall up ahead, just talking, looking like they’d opted out of all the violence going on down below. She ran past them and they stared at her, but didn’t try to follow. There was a shout and she glanced back. The big man was coming.

      She saw an AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY sign and followed it, sprinting through a narrow corridor that ended with a door. A convict was on his knees by the door, trying to pick the lock. He gave a little cheer and stood up, opened it and turned with a smile on his face that she wiped off with a flying elbow. She didn’t even see him crumple to the ground, and now she was in a stairwell, jumping down the steps.

      The big man was hurtling down after her.

      There were no cameras in the stairwell, but surely Skulduggery had seen where she was heading. She jumped and slammed against the wall, pushed herself off, almost falling down to the next level. Speed was one thing, but if she twisted her ankle trying to get away, she’d never leave this stairwell alive.

      She heard the big man stumble and fall, his curses ringing out, giving her a boost of hope. She was going to make it. Five more floors to go before she reached the basement. He was, what, maybe three levels above? She was going to make it. She was going to get to the basement level and burst through the door and Skulduggery was going to be there, gun in hand.

      He’d better be.

      Valkyrie got to the basement, all cold walls and leaking pipes, flickering lights and gloom stretching into shadows. She lunged out through the door, into a small maze of corridors. Skulduggery wasn’t there.

      The big man came through the door like a bull and she took off. He was right behind her, and gaining. Valkyrie dodged left so he overshot, then took the adjoining corridor, glancing back to see him stumbling to correct his course. There was a door ahead, marked MAINTENANCE. She ran into the tiny room, slamming the door shut behind her. She spun, planted her left foot forward, her right leg ready. His footsteps and his curses got louder and as he burst in, she was already kicking.

      Her boot hit the door, the door hit his head.

      Valkyrie fell back from the impact and he dropped to his knees, hands clutching his face. She sprang up, grabbed a mop, smacked the handle on to the top of his skull. He howled, started moving away. She jabbed him in the face with the handle until he knocked it from her hands, and she jumped out after him, swinging kicks into his side. He caught her leg, held it to him as he struggled to his feet. He was panting heavily from the exertion, blood running from his nose. He slammed her back against the wall, one hand still holding her leg, keeping her off balance while the other hand wrapped round her throat.

      She went for his eyes, digging her thumbs in. He tried turning his head, then took her violently to the ground. Kneeling between her legs, both hands now at her throat. Unable to breathe, her head suddenly pounding, Valkyrie squirmed into position then turned on to her hip, bringing one leg in to press against him. He pushed forward and she scissor-swept his legs, flipping him on to his back. Now she was on top and she rose up, started raining down palm shots and elbows. Four of them were all she needed, but she kept going, just to be sure. When he sparked out, unconscious and limp, she rolled off, breathing hard.

      She forced herself to her feet. Her arms and legs were drained. She couldn’t get her breathing under control. She staggered away from him, turned a few more corners before she let herself stop and bend over, hands on her knees, panting. While she was down there, she noticed a series of pipes free of rust or wear. She started following them, all the way to a door.

      Once she was breathing properly again, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, and stepped into the room. “Ah,” she said. “Found you.”

      

      er magic returned to her the moment she set foot in there but she almost didn’t notice it, what with the man lying flat in mid-air, suspended off the ground by dozens of cables and wires that stretched taut from his wrists and ankles to the four corners of the room. The cables pulsed with an energy that emanated outwards. The man’s eyes were open but unseeing. Some kind of helmet was strapped to his head. Thick bundles of wires cascaded from the back of it, disappearing through a small hole in the floor. Valkyrie stared at Silas Nadir and wondered if he was even aware of what was going on.

      The door burst open behind her and Skulduggery ran in, gun in hand. He saw her. Froze. “Are you OK?”

      She nodded.

      “They didn’t hurt you?”

      She shook her head.

      “The Cleavers are taking back control. The riot has been subdued. The last stragglers are being rounded up. You’re sure you’re OK?”

      “I’m grand. You can probably put your gun away.”

      He looked at it. “I think I’ll keep it out, actually. In case I want to shoot someone. I see you’ve found the dearly departed Mr Nadir.”

      “Mien’s been using him to shunt the prison through realities. Look at all these wires. The whole place is hooked up to him. It must be awful.”

      Skulduggery joined her. “Don’t forget, the man is a serial killer.”

      “He still shouldn’t be used like this.”

      “The alternative is to keep him in a cell, being of no use to anyone.”

      “Are you actually in favour of this?”

      “Not at all,” Skulduggery said. “But I understand how Mien justified it to himself. Of course, I doubt either of us would be so morally righteous if Nadir had murdered anyone we knew.”

      “That’s not the point,” said Valkyrie. “So what do we do now?”

      “We unhook him,” Skulduggery said, examining the cables. “Hopefully, he’ll wake up and we can question him about Lament. Once we have our answer, we throw him back in his old cell.”

      “Do you know how to unhook him?”

      “I’m assuming we just take off the helmet.”

      “Just like that? Will he be harmed?”

      “If we’re lucky, it might sting him a little. If we’re unlucky, it might cause irreversible brain damage. I’m feeling lucky, though, aren’t you? It’s a Saturday. Saturdays have always been lucky for us.”

      “I hadn’t noticed. Look, we should probably find someone who knows what they’re doing.”

      “Probably,” Skulduggery murmured. “However …”

      His gloved fingers skipped lightly over the helmet, then gripped a wire and yanked it from its slot.

      Valkyrie’s СКАЧАТЬ