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A warning sigil woke China from her sleep, signalling an intruder on the premises. She slipped out of bed and into a silk dressing gown as she approached the window. For most people the darkness outside her window would have been impenetrable, but for China all it took was a light tap to another sigil – this one carved into her windowsill – and she could see the goings-on outside as though it were a brightly lit summer's day.
An elegant black car stood outside the gated entrance to her driveway, and emerging from the car was a tall figure in a sharp suit, his face hidden by a wide-brimmed hat. China's social circles consisted of many people with stylish cars and stylish suits, but few of them would have been able to find out where she lived, and she was expecting a visit from only one.
China had been dreading this visit from the moment Remus Crux had first threatened her in her library four years ago. She'd done everything she could to prevent it – she'd killed Crux, caved in to blackmail, befriended that cowardly imbecile Gallow, and engaged in an extremely undignified brawl in the middle of the street. It had not been enough. In her heart, she had known it would not be. This confrontation was inevitable – a violent and excruciating end she had pledged herself to more than three hundred years ago. Now that the time came, she was far calmer than she'd expected to be. Her pulse was slow, her breathing steady, even as her mind raced with questions. Would she be lucky? Would his anger overwhelm him and grant her a blessedly swift end? Or would he have more control, drag this out for days or weeks, an opportunity he hadn't had with Serpine or Murder Rose?
Most pressingly, how quickly would he breach the numerous enchantments and security systems defending her property?
Seconds crept by, and the anxiety crept in. Pacing was an unseemly practice for a lady of China's reputation, but alone in her room and facing her demise she indulged herself just this once. There was no point trying to run: he would doubtless have planned this attack in great detail, with innumerable contingencies and back-up plans. It had been many centuries since the Skeleton Detective had been careless enough to charge into a situation without first assessing the dangers, but lessons dipped in poison were rarely forgotten.
Her pacing brought her back to the window, and she noticed with surprise that Skulduggery had not moved from his spot next to the Bentley. The waiting was making China anxious. Perhaps that was the point; he was drawing this out, letting her overthink the events to come, and forcing her to confront her own helplessness…
Helpless? She might not be able to prevent her impending death, but China Sorrows refused to be helpless. And if Skulduggery Pleasant wasn't going to break in soon, she was going to have to let him in. It seemed she had to do everything herself – even arranging her own murder. Typical.
Despite her frustration, China refused to stomp down the stairs on principle. Instead, she drifted elegantly down them, put one of her many pairs of shoes on, and practically glided out of the front door. Skulduggery watched her intently as she followed the path towards him. She approached the gate from her side and he approached it from his. They stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other through the iron bars, before China tapped the keypad on her side and the gates slid open in one sweeping, well-oiled movement. China waited in charged silence but Skulduggery did not venture past them. He was still and silent, appearing every bit like the lifeless skeleton he ought to be.
"Take your shoes off as you come in," China instructed. Then she turned and walked steadily back up to the house.
"China." His voice was hoarse, cracked. If he had eyes, China would have guessed he'd been crying. He couldn't cry though – just one more thing she'd helped Serpine take from him. She turned around.
"Skulduggery, though I appreciate the allures of a moonlit stroll as much as anyone, the temperature is positively Siberian out here and my dressing gown was designed for style, not warmth. Whatever you have to say, you can come into the house to say it."
"I didn't come here to talk."
"And did you come here to spread mud on my nice clean floors?" If Skulduggery had been wearing a face, she was sure it would appear quite taken-aback.
"No," he said dumbly.
"Then you can take your shoes off as you come in." She turned back and carried on walking up to the house. After a few seconds she heard Skulduggery's footsteps behind her.
She held the door open for him as he followed her into the house, then took of her shoes and waited for him to do the same. She led him into the drawing room and gestured for him to sit down. He didn't.
"Make yourself at home," China muttered, moving towards the door. Skulduggery grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. Her heart thudded against her ribcage and she paused, waited, took a deep breath, and forced herself to look directly into his empty eye sockets. "Skulduggery, be reasonable. It's far too cold for me to sit here in only my dressing gown."
"You're not leaving my sight."
"I'm afraid I'll have to insist. I'm not in the habit of holding audiences for people whilst practically au naturel, though I can assure you if I were you'd be the first to–"
Her head smashed against the nearest wall with a brutal thud and it was only Skulduggery's hands – one still gripping her arm, the other now squeezing her throat tightly – that kept her from falling to the floor.
"Do not," he warned. "Do not talk to me like I am your friend. We were never friends, were we?" Even if she had been able to speak, to breathe, China wouldn't have dared contradict him. "All this time you pretended to be our ally, our comrade, our confidante – when really you're just the same treacherous scorpion you always have been."
Skulduggery released her, and China gasped for air as she sank to the floor. Skulduggery stepped back to watch her, his presence not one shred less intimidating for it.
"I'm sorry," she gasped. "I'm sorry for every bad thing I've done. Not just to you, but to everyone. But don't you dare make this something it's not. You're angry at me, and you have every right to be, but don't pretend you're angry for any other reason than that I helped to kill your family. Not once since the end of the war have I moved against you. I risked my life to save you from the Faceless Ones. I lost my brother to your battles. I have been arrested, spied upon, and shot in pursuit of your goals. For the last five years I have devoted more time and energy to your adventures and those of your companions than I have dedicated to anything in the last hundred years. And I have never been anything but a friend to Valkyrie. I have protected her and loved her and kept her from harm from the moment I met her so don't you dare imply that I would ever betray her."
"My apologies, China," he bit out. His fists were clenched, his whole body static. "I didn't mean to imply you would put a child in harm's way. I didn't mean to imply that you haven't made such enormous sacrifices – all that time and energy. It seems I must beg your forgiveness, China: I didn't realise your unfailing dedication to preserving the status quo had already absolved you of your crimes."
"I never said–"
"Why did you do it?" The question caught China off-guard. She'd had months to plan her answer, but now the time came she found herself speechless, every pathetic excuse lost in the face of Skulduggery's anguished voice. She swallowed, licked her lips to ward off the dryness in her mouth.
"I don't know," she said quietly.
"You must know. You must," he urged. "There must have been a reason. Why? What did we ever do to you, to Serpine, to warrant such a punishment?"
"I don't know," she whispered. Tears were filling her eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't know. I don't know what you did to deserve this. I don't know why Serpine targeted you. I can't explain his reasons."
"Can you at least explain your own?" She shook her head. Her lip quivered and the tears began to fall.
"I was a different person then. That's all I can say, the only explanation I can give. The person I was, I can't explain her actions any more than you can. I don't think like that anymore."
"You must remember your reasons. You must remember why. Tell me. Please, tell me. Just explain, China. I have to know why this happened."
"Why are you asking this, Skulduggery? What answer can I give that will make you feel any better? I can't justify what I did. It was a horrific and appalling crime and my role in it is absolutely indefensible."
"I don't care!" He roared, moving forward so that he was standing over her once more. "I don't want your excuses or your guilt or your regret. I don't want you to defend yourself, for God's sake, I just want you to tell me why."
"I thought you were a heathen. I thought you were unholy, ungodly, a demon sent to test my faith."
"But why us? Why not just me? Why my wife, why my child, China?"
"Please don't make me say these things when you know my answers will only cause you more pain."
"More pain? You think a few words from you could possibly make a difference to how much pain I feel?"
"Don't torment yourself like this, Skulduggery, please. Stop tearing open old wounds. Move on."
"China, it has been more than three hundred years and still I can't bear to say their names. When I was being tortured by the Faceless Ones, there were whole hours that went by when I could think of nothing but the pain I was going through, and it was a blessing, because for whole hours I could forget the pain I'd already been through. Forget the look on my wife's face as she screamed. Forget the hope in my child's eyes when I arrived, thinking I would save them both."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that. Stop crying! I don't want your apologies and I certainly don't want your tears. I only want an explanation."
"I've already told you; I don't have one." The fear and the shock were wearing off now, and China was already irritated with herself for allowing them to show in the first place. Just because she was a wretched human being, that did not mean she had to embarrass herself. It was time to take back control. Time to turn the tables. "Or is it not my actions you want an explanation for, Skulduggery?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know me better than almost anyone else alive – figuratively speaking, of course. You knew me when I was the Faceless Ones' most ardent disciple. You knew me, Skulduggery. You might not have known that I did this, but you knew that it is the sort of thing I would do. Why are you acting so surprised, so shocked?"
"You clearly think you have an answer to that."
"I do. It's not my behaviour you're shocked by: it's your own. You're angry with yourself for letting your guard down. You thought you were too smart and too wary to be taken in by me. You're scared that you're not the excellent judge of character you thought you were, and you're worried about what that means. You're troubled by the thought that perhaps your other associates are also capable of hiding things from you."
"I see. So the problem lies with me, not with you."
"Oh, don't be disingenuous, Skulduggery – it doesn't suit you." China rose to her feet gracefully and walked slowly to the centre of the room. Skulduggery swivelled on the spot, not turning his back to her for a second. "My actions were reprehensible, that goes without saying, but they are not the reason for your anger."
"My wife was murdered. My child was murdered. I was murdered. Those are the reasons for my anger."
"I see. So you're not at all put out that you've been tricked for centuries or that I've broken your fragiletrust in me. Everything's fine and we can all go back to normal. How marvellous."
"Oh, don't be disingenuous, China – it doesn't suit you. I know what you're trying to do and refuse to be put on the defensive when you are the one in the wrong. I came here for answers and I intend to get them, one way or another."
"How intimidating," she drawled. "When I am trying to get answers, I usually begin by asking questions. Are you going to continue pestering me for a reason as to why all this happened or are you going to expand your repertoire slightly?"
"Actually, I was going to ask you what happened in the days between the abductions and my arrival. Serpine gleefully detailed his version of their captivity, but since it seems it was you who was actually overseeing it, I thought you might be able to give me a more reliable account."
"Oh, you are a masochist, aren't you?" She murmured. Then she raised her voice, pretending she hadn't intended him to hear the first part. "Whatever he told you was probably a gross exaggeration. The injuries you saw were sustained either during their capture or as they were being brought up from the dungeons to the great hall for you to see."
"They weren't tortured?"
"No." The truth wouldn't help anyone now.
"That's not what Serpine told me."
"Serpine was trying to hurt you. He said whatever he thought would hurt you most." China aimed to soothe; softening her voice and giving an understanding smile.
"It's not like your Diablerie to leave their prisoners unscathed."
"It wasn't like the Diablerie to take prisoners, either. There was a war going on. They had other distractions."
"And yet every one of them found the time to visit me during my imprisonment." If Skulduggery spoke any faster, he'd be talking over himself. His voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch and China wondered if he was really talking to her, or merely recounting terrible memories to himself. "Your friend Gallow in particular didn't seem to be too busy to lend Serpine a helping hand."
"I've told you, Skulduggery: they weren't hurt."
"I don't believe you."
"Believe what you want. I won't tell you any different."
He didn't have any response to that, so they stood in silence. She'd left both doors open as she came in – the better to make a quick escape – and an icy draft was coming through now. She shivered.
"It really is too cold, Skulduggery," she murmured. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. "I'll get dressed. You can sit down, if you want."
She waited for a moment, but he neither sat down nor responded. Another gust of cold air broke China's train of thought, and she drifted out of the drawing room towards the front door. The sky had lightened from pitch black to navy blue. She'd expected it to be brighter, perhaps even to hear songbirds, but it seemed her confrontation with Skulduggery hadn't taken nearly as long as she'd thought. China closed the door and headed upstairs to her dressing room.
She ignored the clothes her valet had laid out for her the night before – a metallic skirt and a white blouse that had gone out of fashion almost two months ago – and picked out a long-sleeved sapphire-blue dress from one of her walk-in wardrobes. She couldn't remember which of her admirers had bought her the dress, nor did she care to, but whoever it was had excellent taste.
China tapped on one of her full-length mirrors and studied her reflection as it walked out, mulling over whether or not she should fire her incompetent valet. Once she had checked that the dress suited her reflection as well as she thought it did, China sat in the high-backed chair in front of her dressing table and instructed the reflection to style her hair while she applied some scant make-up.
China returned to the drawing room. Skulduggery was still standing where she'd left him. He didn't turn when she entered the room, but when she sat down on a chaise longue he moved to sit on the one opposite to her. They sat in silence for a long time.
"Where do we go from here?" she asked him. He didn't answer immediately, but the silence was no longer tense. That wasn't to say it was comfortable either – instead, the two of them seemed caught in some strange motionless zone, waiting for their new relationship to be defined.
"You help me," he said finally. "When I call on you, you help me like you have before. We build trust again. And maybe…" he trailed off.
"Maybe what? We can be friends?" China worked hard to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.
"No," Skulduggery said sharply. "Never that. I can never forgive you, China."
"Can't you?" she asked, no longer caring if she sounded desperate. "We've all done terrible things, Skulduggery. It may be that–"
"It's not about what terrible things you've done, China. It's that…" Skulduggery paused, struggling to articulate his thoughts, and when he spoke again his voice was thick with emotion. "It's that I could never forgive myself if I forgave you, China. I want to be friends too. I want to be able to forget about this and move on but this isn't about me. It's about my wife and my child and I owe it to them to be unforgiving. They deserve someone to be angry on their behalf."
That sent them both back into silence once more. After more than twenty minutes has passed, China finally worked up the nerve to start a new conversation.
"How's Valkyrie?"
Skulduggery looked up in surprise and didn't speak for a few moments. Finally though, he seemed to decide to go along with this new topic of conversation.
"Good. She's good. She's taking her driving test on Thursday."
"Is she actually taking it or is she getting her Reflection to do it for her?"
"She's actually taking it. She insists she won't pass though. Apparently that's my fault for not letting her practise in the Bentley."
They talked like that for a long time – as though they were just two friends who'd met up for a chat. As they talked the sun rose and eventually, by some unspoken agreement, they decided it was time to part ways. Skulduggery walked out onto the driveway and China stood in the door looking out at him. Skulduggery started to walk away, then stopped himself and turned around to look at China once more.
"I'll see you around then, I suppose," he said.
"I'll be here when you need me," she promised. He nodded.
"I'm sorry about your library, China."
"Thank you. It means a lot." She was surprised to find that it really did. "Wish Valkyrie luck on her driving test for me."
"I will. Goodbye, China."
"Goodbye, Skulduggery."
She watched as Skulduggery made his way to the Bentley and started it up. She watched as he turned the car around and drove away. She kept watching until long after the rumble of the Bentley's engine had faded from earshot. Then she shut the door and banished all thoughts of Skulduggery Pleasant from her mind.
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God, this took me ages to write. I had literally no idea how to end it. Please let me know what you think by reviewing!