The Faceless Ones. Derek Landy

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      he narrow roads twisted like snakes, and on either side rose the tallest trees Valkyrie had ever seen. Now and then there was a break in the treeline and she could see how far up they were. The mountains were beautiful and the air was crisp. Clear.

      They arrived in Glendalough a little before ten. They were here to talk to someone who may have witnessed the murder of the Teleporter fifty years ago. Valkyrie had been complaining about the cold and Skulduggery told her she didn’t have to come along, but there was no way she was going to pass up this opportunity. After all, she’d never even seen a Sea Hag before.

      Skulduggery parked the Bentley and they walked the rest of the way. He was wearing a dark blue suit, with a coat he left open and a hat pulled low over his brow. His sunglasses were in place and his scarf was wrapped around the lower half of his skull, obscuring his skeletal features from the hikers and tourists they passed.

      Valkyrie, for her part, was once again dressed in the all too snug black clothes that Ghastly had made for her.

      They got to the Upper Lake. It was like someone had reached down and scooped out a huge handful of forest, and then the rain had come and filled it with liquid crystal. The lake was massive, stretching back to the far shore, where the mountains rose again.

      They walked along the edge, between the water and the trees, until they came to a moss-covered stump. Skulduggery hunkered down and dipped his gloved hand through the hollow at its base, while Valkyrie looked around, making sure they weren’t being watched. But there was no one around. They were safe.

      From the tree stump, the skeleton detective withdrew a tiny silver bell, the length of his thumb, then straightened up and rang it.

      Valkyrie arched an eyebrow. “Think she heard that?”

      “I’m sure she did,” he nodded as he removed the sunglasses and scarf.

      “It’s not exactly loud though, is it? I barely heard it and I’m standing right next to you. You’d think the bell to summon a Sea Hag would be big. You’d think it would be the kind of bell that tolls. That was more of a tinkle than a toll.”

      “It was rather unimpressive.”

      Valkyrie looked at the lake. “No sign of her. She’s probably embarrassed because her bell is so rubbish. What kind of a Sea Hag lives in a lake anyway?”

      “I think we’re about to find out,” Skulduggery murmured as the waters churned and a wizened old woman rose from the surface. She was dressed in rags, and had long skinny arms and hair that was indistinguishable from the seaweed that coiled through it. Her nose was hooked and her eyes were hollow, and instead of legs she had what appeared to be a fish’s tail that stayed beneath the water.

      She looked, in Valkyrie’s opinion, like a really old, really ugly mermaid.

      “Who disturbs me?” the Sea Hag asked in a voice that sounded like someone drowning.

      “I do,” Skulduggery said. “My name is Skulduggery Pleasant.”

      “That is not your name,” the Sea Hag said.

      “It’s the name I’ve taken,” Skulduggery replied. “As my colleague beside me has taken the name Valkyrie Cain.”

      The Sea Hag shook her head, almost sadly. “You give power to names,” she said. “Too much of your strength lies in your names. Long ago, I surrendered my name to the Deep. Cast your eyes upon me now and answer truthfully – have you ever seen such happiness as this?”

      Valkyrie looked at her, all seaweed, wrinkled skin and dour expression, and decided it best to contribute nothing to this conversation.

      When it became clear that no one was going to answer, the Sea Hag spoke again.

      “Why have you disturbed me?”

      “We seek answers,” Skulduggery said.

      “Nothing you do matters,” the Sea Hag told them. “In the end, all things drown and drift away.”

      “We’re looking for answers that are a tad more specific. Yesterday, a sorcerer named Cameron Light was killed.”

      “On dry land?”

      “Yes.”

      “That does not interest me.”

      “We think the case may be connected to a murder, fifty years ago, that happened right here, by this lake. If the victim told you anything as he died, if you know anything about him or the one who killed him, we need to hear it.”

      “You want to know another’s secrets?”

      “We need to.”

      “The girl has not spoken a word since I appeared,” the Sea Hag said, turning her attention to Valkyrie, “yet she spoke, with scarcely a pause, before that. Have you nothing to say now, girl?”

      “Hello,” said Valkyrie.

      “Words travel far beneath the waves. Your words about my bell travelled far. You do not like it?”

      “Um,” said Valkyrie. “It’s fine. It’s a fine bell.”

      “It is as old as I am, and I am far too old for beauty to reach. I was beautiful once. My bell, the sound it makes, is beautiful still.”

      “It makes a pretty sound,” Valkyrie agreed. “Even if it is a bit small.”

      The Sea Hag swayed on her giant fish tail, or whatever it was, and leaned down until she was an arm’s breadth away from Valkyrie. She smelled of rotting fish.

      “Would you like to drown?” she inquired.

      “No,” Valkyrie said. “No, thank you.”

      The Sea Hag scowled. “What is it you want?”

      Skulduggery stepped between them. “The man, fifty years ago?”

      The Sea Hag returned to her original position and resumed her swaying. Valkyrie wondered how big the fish part of her actually was. It was more like the body of a snake than a fish. Or a serpent.

      “Your questions do not interest me,” the Hag said. “Your search for answers is of no importance. If you seek the knowledge of the dead man, you can ask him yourself.”

      The Hag waved her hand, and the remains of a man broke the surface of the lake beside her. This man of rot and bone, his clothes congealed into what was left of his skin and stained the same mud-brown colour, rose so that his feet were the only part of him still hidden beneath the small, choppy waves. His arms dangled loosely by his sides, and his eyes opened and water trickled from his mouth.

      “Help me,” he said.

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