Derek Landy - Death Bringer

The man walked closer. He wore a frayed coat and old, ill-fitting clothes. He was unshaven, and needed a haircut. He was holding something – a photograph. When he was twenty paces away, he stopped, examined the photo, then looked up.

“Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain,” he said. His accent was thick, Eastern European, and he sounded bored. “I’ve been paid to kill you.” He put the photograph away.

“Interesting,” Skulduggery said. “Does it make any difference, the fact that I’m pointing a gun at you?”

The man shrugged.

“He doesn’t seem worried,” Valkyrie murmured.

“That’s never a good sign,” Skulduggery murmured back. He spoke louder. “We have no quarrel with you. We just want the man who hired you – we want Dragonclaw.”

“It doesn’t matter if you have a quarrel with me or not,” the man replied, raising his hand. “I’m going to kill you both.”

“Happy to disappoint,” Skulduggery said, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit the man in the neck, opening up a wound from which burst dazzling yellow light. He clamped a hand over the wound, shutting off the glare, and when he removed it, the bullet hole had sealed.

“You’re a Warlock,” Skulduggery said. “I thought your kind were extinct.”

For the first time, the man smiled. “Almost. Not quite. We’re growing stronger every day.”

“What are you doing here? You’re a mercenary now, is that it? Being paid to kill people?”

“This is a special favour,” the Warlock replied. “When it is over, when I am told my services are no longer required, I will return home.”

“What are you getting out of this? What is Dragonclaw doing for you in return? Or maybe it’s not Dragonclaw. Maybe it’s the Necromancers as a whole. What do they want?”

“I can’t see the point of telling you, seeing as how you will be dead soon.”

“What do you know of the Passage?” Skulduggery asked.

The Warlock shook his head. “I don’t know what that is, and we have talked enough.”

His hand bubbled and boiled, and when he thrust it forward, his palm burst open and a stream of yellow light erupted from beneath. It hit Valkyrie’s left shoulder and she spun, cursing, her shoulder tingling then going numb, and by the time she found her balance again, her whole arm was dead.

Skulduggery had used those few seconds to launch himself at the Warlock. His hat flew off as he slammed his forehead into the man’s face, followed it with three sharp elbows and then clubbed the man with the butt of his gun. The Warlock reached out, taking hold of him and launching him through the air.

Valkyrie whipped her good hand at the Warlock, and a trail of shadows sought the man out. They slashed across his face, tearing skin. More light burst from the wounds. Valkyrie whipped her hand back, pouring her magic into the next strike, aiming to take the man’s head from his body. But her opponent ducked, moving fast, and another beam of light escaped from the jagged hole in his palm. Valkyrie jerked away, the light narrowly missing her, and the man was upon her, fingers closing around her throat. The Warlock hauled her up, slammed her against the wall with one hand. His other hand, the hand with the hole in it, was inches from Valkyrie’s face.

It began to bubble again.

kulduggery slammed into the Warlock just as the yellow light exploded. The beam missed Valkyrie and she fell awkwardly, aware of Skulduggery and the Warlock tumbling away from her. Skulduggery was the first up, made to grab the Warlock, but the Warlock kept ducking and dodging, giving himself room, not letting Skulduggery latch on to him. And then his hand opened up again and that light burst out, catching Skulduggery full in the chest. Skulduggery crumpled to the ground.

The Warlock straightened up, held his hand out towards Valkyrie. She swept her arm up and a sudden wind took her off her feet as the yellow light exploded, lancing the space where she had just been standing. She spun through the air, hit the ground and tumbled, finally rolling to her feet. The Warlock wasn’t looking so calm any more. He cradled his wounded hand close to his chest, flexing the fingers. He was pale, his jaw clenched. Using that kind of magic was taking its toll.

Valkyrie’s left arm was tingling now as feeling returned to it. She’d probably only get one chance at ending this fight, and she had to seize it. She broke into a sprint, barrelling right at the Warlock. She saw the man’s other hand too late, saw how the skin bubbled, and though she tried to twist out of the way, she wasn’t fast enough. The yellow light filled her vision and she lost all bearing.

She wasn’t running any more, she knew that. She wasn’t doing anything any more. She blinked, saw the sky above. She was lying on her back. Her body was numb. Unresponsive.

She heard footsteps. The Warlock. Walking slowly. Dragging his feet. Getting closer. He came into view. His hair clung tight to his scalp. He was sweating. He held his hands away from his body, the fingers curled painfully. He looked weak. He looked drained. He looked hungry.

With much effort, the Warlock straddled Valkyrie, sitting on her belly, a bent knee on either side. The wounds on his hands were trying to close, but they were too great. The Warlock didn’t move for the longest time. He was gathering his strength. Valkyrie tried to move, but she couldn’t. She tried to speak, but she couldn’t do that, either.

The Warlock licked his dry lips, pulled them back off his teeth. He did that a few more times, and every time he did it, his mouth widened. His jaw clicked and cracked. His teeth darkened. He was getting ready to eat.

In her mind, Valkyrie screamed and raged. She kicked and punched and fought. In her mind, she reached up and raked the eyes of the Warlock, gouging them from their sockets. She clawed the Warlock’s face, leaving bloody furrows in the skin.

But her body did none of that. Her body lay where it was. The Warlock was going to eat through her flesh to her soul, and by the looks of it, Valkyrie was going to be alive when it all happened.

She felt something. A tingle in her right boot. Her big toe. She could feel her big toe. She wriggled it, tried to get the feeling to spread.

A finger now. The middle finger on her left hand. Tingling and buzzing. Pins and needles. Lovely pins and lovely needles.

She could feel the Warlock’s weight now. Her hip buzzed, the buzzing travelling slowly across her waist. The Warlock knew none of this. The Warlock just sat there, licking his lips and widening his mouth. The teeth looked bigger, darker, stronger. They looked like teeth that could tear through bone and gristle.

Valkyrie’s own lips were burning as sensation flooded back into them. Her nose was itchy.

The Warlock’s mouth stopped widening. The process was complete. The Warlock was going to eat, before feeling returned to Valkyrie’s arms and legs. The Warlock bent down, the huge mouth wide open, and Valkyrie sat up and crunched her head into his nose. He gagged, dropped back a little, shaking his head, eyes closed, too stunned to react properly. She did it again, the pain exploding through her skull, and this time the Warlock toppled backwards. She shifted her hips to the side, managed to get to her knees, tried to run but collapsed. The Warlock roared in pain and anger. His hand closed around her ankle and he pulled her to him.