The Faceless Ones. Derek Landy

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      “We’re here to see the Grand Mage,” Skulduggery said. “I am Skulduggery Pleasant and this is my associate, Valkyrie Cain.”

      Phil Lynott’s wax head nodded. “You are expected, but you will need an official Sanctuary representative to accompany you through the door. I have alerted the Administrator. She should be arriving shortly.”

      “Thank you.”

      “You are welcome.”

      Valkyrie stared at it for a few more seconds. “Can you sing?” she asked.

      “I open the door,” it said. “That is my only purpose.”

      “But can you sing?”

      It considered the question. “I do not know,” it decided. “I have never tried.”

      The wall rumbled behind them, and a door shifted and slid open. A woman in a sombre skirt and white blouse stood there, smiling politely.

      “Mr Pleasant,” the Administrator said, “Miss Cain, welcome. The Grand Mage is expecting you. Please follow me.”

      The figure of Phil Lynott didn’t say goodbye as the Administrator led them down a spiral staircase, their way lit by burning torches in brackets. They reached the bottom and passed into the Foyer. It felt weird, walking into a place that had once been so familiar, and now seemed so alien. The irrational part of Valkyrie’s brain was certain that the Cleaver guards were glaring at them from behind their visors, even though she knew they were far too disciplined and professional to display such petty behaviour.

      The Sanctuary, she had only recently realised, was shaped like a massive triangle that had toppled over, and was now lying flat beneath the surface of Dublin City. The Foyer marked the dead centre of the triangle’s base, with long corridors stretching out to either side and a central corridor running straight. The side corridors turned in at a 45-degree angle, and eventually met the central corridor at the triangle’s point. Smaller corridors bisected these in a seemingly random pattern.

      The rooms along the main corridors were mostly used for the day-to-day running of the Sanctuary and the Council of Elders’ business. But down some of those narrower corridors lay rooms that were a lot more interesting – the Gaol, holding cells, the Repository, the Armoury and dozens more that Valkyrie had never even seen.

      The Administrator chatted amicably with Skulduggery as they walked. She was a nice lady, brought in as a replacement for the Administrator who had died during Nefarian Serpine’s raid on the Sanctuary two years before. Valkyrie closed her mind to the memory of the carnage. She had lived through it once – she saw no reason to do so again.

      The Administrator showed them into a large room with no furniture. “The Grand Mage will be with you in a moment.”

      “Thank you,” Skulduggery said, nodding politely, and the Administrator left.

      “Do you think we’ll be waiting long?” Valkyrie asked, keeping her voice low.

      “The last time we were in this building, we accused the Grand Mage of being a traitor,” Skulduggery said. “Yes, I think we’ll be waiting long.”

      Almost two hours later, the doors opened again and a grey-haired man strode in, his face lined and serious and his eyes cold. He stopped when he saw Valkyrie, who was sitting on the floor.

      “You will stand when I enter the room,” he said, barely managing to keep the snarl out of his voice.

      Valkyrie had been getting up before he had spoken, but as she got to her feet, she kept her mouth shut. This meeting was too important to risk ruining because of something stupid.

      “Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Skulduggery said. “We understand you must be very busy.”

      “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t allow you to waste another moment of my time,” Guild said. “But Mr Bliss continues to vouch for you. It is out of respect for my fellow Elder that you are even here.”

      “And on that positive note,” Skulduggery began, but Guild shook his head.

      “None of your jokes, Mr Pleasant. Say what you came here to say and leave the sarcastic comments to one side.”

      Skulduggery’s head tilted slightly. “Very well. Six months ago, while preparing to bring down Baron Vengeous, you fired us over a disagreement. Later that same day, we defeated both Vengeous and the Grotesquery, and the threat they posed was averted. And yet our role in that operation was overlooked.”

      “You’re looking for a reward? I have to say, I’d be disappointed if I didn’t already think so little of you. I didn’t think money interested someone like you. Or perhaps you’d like a medal?”

      “This isn’t about a reward.”

      “Then what is it about?”

      “Four Teleporters have been murdered in the past month and you still have no idea who is responsible. You know we should be in on this.”

      “I’m afraid I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation with civilians. I assure you, Detective Crux has matters well in hand.”

      “Remus Crux is a second-rate detective.”

      “On the contrary, there is no doubt in my mind that Crux is the best man for the job. I know him and I trust him.”

      “And how many more people have to die before you realise your mistake?”

      Guild’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t help yourself, can you? You come here, begging for your old job back, and even now you can’t help but be insolent. Apparently, the only lesson you’ve learned since you were last here is how to shut that girl up.”

      “Bite me,” Valkyrie snapped.

      “And even at that you fail,” Guild sighed.

      Valkyrie’s anger swirled inside her and she felt herself go red. At the sight of her flushed face, Guild smiled a smug little smile.

      “This is a waste of time,” Skulduggery said. “You were never going to even consider reinstating us, were you?”

      “Of course not. You say you were fired over a disagreement. How simple that sounds. How innocent. How innocuous. What a very polite way of saying that you accused me of being a traitor.”

      “Vengeous had a spy in the Sanctuary, Thurid, and we know it was you.”

      “This is how you’re spending your retirement, is it? Making up fantastic stories to fill in the gaps of whatever you call your life? Tell me, Skulduggery – since we’re on a first-name basis – have you discovered what your purpose in life actually is? You’ve already killed the man who murdered your family, so it can’t be revenge. You’ve done that one. So what is it, do you think? Redemption, for all the terrible things you’ve done? Maybe you’re here to heal all those wounds you’ve inflicted, or bring back all those people you’ve killed. What is your purpose, Skulduggery?”

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