1The first thought that registered in Valkyrie's head was that the left side of her face was cold and wet. She opened her eyes and learned that the cause was two inched of snow on her. She sat up and shivered as snow ran down her back. Conjuring a flame to chase away the chill, she looked around and found herself in an empty alleyway.

As she rose to her feet, a voice spoke up in her head. I know where we are and I can give you some pointers.

"Why should I trust you?" Valkyrie replied angrily.

You shouldn't but you're going to listen to what I say then decide what to do. We're in France. All that I want you have to do is walk out of this alley and walk through the front doors of this building. After that I will leave alone unless you are really in need of me until we return home.

"All you want me to do is enter this building and you'll leave? Why would I go home if it means letting you out?"

That would be about it.

"Fine, but if you're having me do something horrible, I'm not doing it."

I can agree with that. Talk to you later Val.

"Later, Darquesse." Val exited the alley and did as her split personality suggested, she entered through a gorgeous set of double doors. Inside was a beautiful lobby. It had a stunning white marble floor, an elaborate staircase, a crystal chandelier, and dozens of life size gold statues of handsome women.

She climbed the stairs and walked through another set of doors into a theatre of sorts. Thousands upon thousands of red velvet seats arranged in neat rows. At the front of the room was a stage with a closed curtain across the front. She walked up and gently adjusted the air to rise onto the stage. She turned and, with lack anything better to do, she sang to empty room.

My white knight, not a Lancelot,

nor an angel with wings

Just someone to love me,

who is not ashamed of a few nice things.

My white knight

what my heart would say

if it only knew how.

Please, dear Venus, show me now.

All I want is a plain man

All I want is a modest man

A quiet man, a gentle man

A straightforward and honest man

To sit with me in a cottage

somewhere in the state of Iowa.

And I would like him to be

more interested in me

than he is in himself.

And more interested in us

than in me.

And if occasionally he'd ponder

what make Shakespeare and Beethoven great,

Him I could love till I die.

Him I could love till I die.

My white knight, not a Lancelot,

nor an angel with wings.

Just someone to love me,

who is not ashamed of a few nice things.

My white knight, let me walk with him where others ride by

Walk and love him

till I die,

till I die.

As the last note rang and slowly faded there was another voice. "Brava, brava, bravissima." The voice was distorted in echo and song but it was quite familiar to her.

She smiled in recognition. "Merci, mon ange de la mourr ," she whispered.

There was applause from the back of the room and she focused on the figures in the doorway. "That was beautiful, mademoiselle." the one on the left said.

"Yes," agreed the second "wasn't it."

The pair approached the stage and continued to gaze at her.

"Not that I'm angry, but how did you get in here?" asked the first.

"The front door was wide open." Valkyrie replied gazing up in the balcony.

"How did you get in?" asked one of my managers.

"The front door was wide open." the girl replied absent-mindedly. She was looking right at me.

"Why did you come in?" asked the other. These two are so bothersome.

"Something told me I should."

"What is your name?" now there's the question I was wondering. She thought a moment. "Valkyrie Cain." she said at last, looking away from me.

"Miss Cain, where are you from?"

"Ireland," a simple answer, no pause.

"Who was your teacher?"

"What?" she seemed to come back to the present, tensing.

"Who taught you to sing? Who is your teacher?" he elaborated.

"Oh," she relaxed, sitting on the edge of the stage. "No one taught me. I learned the song from listening to others. No one taught me. I actually haven't had time to sing in the last," she paused again. She had my attention. She already had the talent, now was the time for her to learn the finer points.

"Five years." Valkyrie decided finally. She'd been working with Skulduggery for five years.

"One final question, mademoiselle, would you sing for us again tonight. Our lead walked out and there is no understudy."

"How long 'til the show?" she asked, slightly bored.

A consult to a pocket watch, "four hours."

A grin slid onto Valkyrie's face. "Then this should be fun. I'll do it."