Derek Landy - Last Stand of Dead Men

“When they built it,” Ravel said from behind them, “they built it to last.”

o see such a thing as shock register on the face of the most beautiful woman in the world was a rare treat, and Valkyrie found herself enjoying it more than she really should have. China Sorrows’ pale blue eyes were wide and her perfect lips were parted. Her hair, black as sin and just as luxuriant, was longer than Valkyrie remembered. She wore a bathrobe, silk, tied with a sash.

“Hi,” said Valkyrie.

China looked at her for a few more moments. “Hello, Valkyrie,” she said at last, composure quietly regained. “I must admit, I didn’t expect to see you on my doorstep. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve been meaning to stop by. You told me about this place ages ago, mentioned all the horses. It’s beautiful around here.”

“My refuge,” said China. “I run to my country house to lick my wounds and bathe in self-pity. Is that … is that your car?”

Valkyrie glanced back at the Oompa-Loompa. “Yep. Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She is remarkably orange. Would you like to come in?”

China stepped to one side, and Valkyrie passed through. A marble staircase swept from a marble floor. Dark paintings in Gothic frames hung from the walls. Twisted sculptures sat on bone-white plinths. Through the windows the old stone yard was in full view, with the horses in their stables and, beyond them, the fields and meadows and the forest that bordered the land.

China led her into a large room with a rich carpet and a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that took up an entire wall. There was an old-fashioned writing desk that Valkyrie barely got a glance at before China closed the lid, and at China’s invitation Valkyrie dutifully sat.

“Can I get you anything?” China asked. “Tea or coffee?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

China sat in the armchair opposite and crossed her legs. Her feet were bare. “What can I do for you?” she asked, but Valkyrie wasn’t ready to answer that. Not yet.

“Impressive bookcase,” she said instead. “Not as impressive as the library, but …”

“But then I have far fewer books,” finished China. “Rebuilding my collection will take time, I’m afraid. Rebuilding it completely will be impossible – some of the works lost were truly one of a kind. Irreplaceable. The truly valuable books, of course, were kept here and not in the library, so that is a blessing, I suppose.”

“Are you going to reopen?”

“I think not. As I said, I’ve been feeling very sorry for myself. My library was frequented by many patrons whom I viewed as loyal – and yet, when Eliza Scorn burned it to the ground, not one of them came to my aid. Don’t get me wrong, Valkyrie – I am quite used to being a pariah. I just didn’t think it would happen again quite so soon.”

“So you’re not joking, then? You really have been spending all this time feeling sorry for yourself?”

A smile, as sad as it was faint. “Not all this time. I spent a few days recovering from my injuries. The physical wounds healed and left not a bruise. The injury I suffered to my pride, however … well. Once I was back on my feet, I had nothing but revenge in mind, so I began preparing.”

“And what happened?”

“Eliza is nothing if not thorough. My holdings in America, in Switzerland, in Italy … all destroyed. My employees, the ones who haven’t died in terribly suspicious accidents, are missing. The mortal men and women who tend to my horses are the only ones left unharmed. I am alone, Valkyrie. Without allies, without friends.”

“I’m … I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. This is exactly how it should be. Nothing less than what I deserve after the things I’ve done.”

“What about your assistant? The man with the bow tie?”

“Dead, the poor man. Strangled.”

“Oh, China …”

China waved her hand dismissively. “I am allowed to pity myself, Valkyrie. You are not. So tell me how you have been.”

“You don’t know?”

“These days I only hear whispers about the impending war between the Sanctuaries – nothing fun. My sources and informants now report to Eliza and her Church of the Faceless. I have been deprived.”

Valkyrie gave a little shrug. “Well, I’m doing grand. I’m doing OK. So is Skulduggery. We visited an alternate reality, did you hear that?”

China raised an eyebrow. “When was this?”

“Just a few months ago, around the beginning of May.”

“Weren’t you dealing with Argeddion back then?”

“This was part of it.”

“You have been busy. What was it like, this alternate reality?”

“Horrible,” said Valkyrie. “Mevolent is still alive over there, and from what I saw he basically rules the world. Mortals are slaves. Serpine’s still alive, too. So was Vengeous – until he died.”

China sat forward. “Oh, you lucky thing. That must have been astonishing.”

“We met you over there.”

China clapped her hands and laughed with delight. “Another me! Tell me, what was I like?”

“You led the Resistance.”

“I did? Me? I’m sorry, I’m one of the heroes over there?”

“You were,” said Valkyrie. “Kind of. You betrayed us a few times, and then you died.”

China’s face fell, and she sat back. “Typical. Who killed me?”

“Serpine.”

“That sneaky little toerag.” She went quiet for a moment, then looked up. “My brother?”

Valkyrie shook her head. “Mevolent had killed him a long time ago.”

“Dead in both dimensions, then. That’s unfortunate. How did Skulduggery handle talking to me?”

“Honestly? He was fine. He got on with the job.”

“And what is his attitude towards me? This me, I mean. Not that me.”

“His attitude towards you is … unknown. We don’t talk about you much. He doesn’t insult you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Insults are one of the lesser things to worry me, my dear. So are you going to tell why you’ve visited, or are we going to keep skipping around it?”

“Oh, yes, of course. We’re after a guy that nobody can quite remember. They don’t remember his name, his face, anything about who he is. Do you know anyone who could make you forget who they were?”

“I know a few Sensitives who could dislodge some things in your memory if given enough time.”

“No, I get the feeling this is an instant thing. Like, you’re talking to him and then you walk away and you can’t quite remember who he was.”

“Interesting,” said China. “There is a German mage, a Sensitive again, whom you forget the moment you lose sight of her. Myosotis Terra.”

“Never heard of her.”

“The only other thing I can think of is a type of amethyst crystal with certain psychic properties. I’m sure if treated correctly it could induce that level of amnesia. I’d need my books to make sure but, unfortunately, I no longer have them.”

“So it’s not a discipline of magic, then? Anyone who holds that crystal could be the person we’re looking for?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Valkyrie sagged. “Wonderful. Any ideas where a person might find such a crystal?”

“Most of them have been locked carefully away. There used to be one in the Repository of the old Sanctuary, if I remember correctly. It might even have survived the relocation to Roarhaven.”