Last Stand of Dead Men. Derek Landy

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      he Repository in the old Sanctuary had been much better. Its ceilings were higher, its aisles were longer, the various magical artefacts were spaced out more. But here, in the Roarhaven Sanctuary, the ceiling was low, the aisles were short and uneven, and all of these wonderful and rare objects were crammed together on the shelves, which made finding one teeny-tiny box all the more difficult.

      “Can we interrogate Bernard Sult?” Valkyrie asked as they searched.

      “Why would we want to?” Skulduggery murmured, his gloved fingers rifling through a large box of smaller boxes.

      “Because we might get a confession out of him.”

      Skulduggery put the large box back on the shelf, and kept looking. “We don’t need a confession. Ghastly caught him red-handed.”

      “But a confession might make the Supreme Council back off.”

      “Only if they were denying his mission, which they’re not.”

      She frowned. “I still think we should interrogate him.”

      “Why?”

      “To get the truth, the facts … also to gloat.”

      Skulduggery got to the end of the aisle, and started down the next one. “Gloating is unbecoming of you.”

      Valkyrie trailed after him. “You gloat all the time.”

      “Because when I do it it’s admirable and funny. Bernard Sult is a political prisoner. The situation must be handled with great care and sensitivity – neither of which are your strong points.”

      “Did … you just insult me?”

      He stopped, and looked back. “Not that I am aware. Let others be caring and sensitive, Valkyrie. You concentrate on being effective. It’s what you’re good at.” He resumed his search.

      “I can be effective while I’m being caring and sensitive,” she said to the back of his head. “You’ve seen me with Alice. You’ve seen how caring I can be. I’m the most caring person in the world when I’m with her. I’m almost too caring.”

      “Let’s not get carried away.”

      She glared. “I care. And I’m sensitive. You need to be sensitive in order to be a good big sister.”

      “I’ve clearly struck a nerve.”

      “No you haven’t. It’s not a nerve. It’s just a thing. I’m a good big sister, and I’m going to keep being a good big sister while she grows up. I’m going to give her advice on school, on clothes, on boys … I’m going to make sure she’s happy and safe and nothing bad ever happens to her.”

      Skulduggery turned. “This conversation has shifted.”

      “Has it?”

      “It has. Who have you been speaking to?”

      Valkyrie hesitated.

      “Ah,” said Skulduggery. “It was something you were discussing with China. I see. And what did China say that has you so confrontational?”

      “I’m not confrontational.”

      “You think there’s an argument coming so you’ve started arguing early. It’s what you always do.”

      “Fine. OK. Yes, there’s an argument coming. Oh, look, it’s already arrived. Big deal.”

      “And may I ask what it is we are arguing about?”

      “You don’t want to know.”

      “Maybe not, but I think it would probably be useful nevertheless.”

      Valkyrie sighed, and put some irritation into it to hide her own uneasiness. “I was talking to China about the Second Lifetime Syndrome, and about maybe telling my parents the truth.”

      Skulduggery looked at her with his empty eye sockets.

      It was very quiet in the Repository. She could hear her own breathing, and every slight rustle her clothes made as she stood there.

      “Hmm,” Skulduggery said.

      “China’s not in favour,” Valkyrie said quickly. “Just in case you think she’s talked me into anything.”

      He nodded. “Hmm,” he said again.

      “She gave me loads of reasons why I shouldn’t, so you don’t have to. I haven’t even decided. I just mentioned it. It’s a possibility. I don’t want to lose my family. Is that so wrong?”

      He didn’t answer, and her eyes widened.

      “I mean … I’m sorry, I didn’t … That was a dumb thing to say.”

      “Why?” he asked, and tilted his head. Then he clicked his fingers. “Oh, yes, because my family is dead. I’d completely forgotten.”

      The warmth in his voice made her smile. “You’re such a moron. Sorry, though.”

      He waved her words away. “If people had to apologise to me every time they made some random comment about dead families, I’d never get any work done. As for your dilemma, I’m not going to tell you what to do. I want you to be happy and for your parents and sister to be happy and safe. Whatever way you can achieve that is fine with me.”

      “Thank you.”

      “So long as you take into account all the possible repercussions of your actions before you do anything, I’m confident you’ll make the right decision.”

      Her smile soured. “Cheers. Are we going to find this crystal or not?”

      “Already have,” Skulduggery said, and held up a small, felt-covered box. He opened it and withdrew a purple crystal the size of a peanut.

      “Hmph.”