CHAPTER TWELVE: Seeing Red

They drove in relative silence. Skulduggery's façade was down and Valkyrie was forced to make do with the many subtleties of the detective's movements to deduce what it was he was thinking. And as if he could feel her prying into his thoughts Skulduggery reached across and turned on the radio. It tuned automatically onto his favourite channel and the car filled with the sound of old classics for which Valkyrie had little appreciation for, but dared not to complain.

Half an hour went by and the soothing voice of Frank Sinatra singing the Girl from Ipanema filled her ears and Valkyrie turned to Skulduggery with a grin.

He didn't look her way. "What are you happy about?"

"They're playing our song!" she beamed.

"Our?" Skulduggery asked quizzically.

"Yes. When I started knowing you I remember you whistling Girl from Ipanema, and it kind of has, stuck. I hear this song and it reminds me of you, Skulduggery."

The detective was silent for a moment as he changed lanes and sped the Bentley on. "You're just trying to get on my good side."

Valkyrie shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. If I was, is it working?"

"I suppose it is. But then, it is hard to be in a foul mood with Frank playing. He just has that voice."

Valkyrie huffed. "Sure. Sure he does."

"I take it you don't like Frank?"

"He's a little old for me."

"Nonsense. You're just too young to know good music when you hear it."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I am not. I just don't…I don't know, relate, or something with that music."

"Which we can put down to your mind-boggling immaturity."

"Skulduggery," Valkyrie groaned, "you know I'm not immature."

Skulduggery chuckled and left her to flare her nostrils in silence. He pondered for a moment as Valkyrie leaned against the Bentley's window, looking out at the night.

"I'm sorry about your phone," he said, failing astonishingly to sound apologetic.

Valkyrie raised an eye at her dark reflection in the glass. "Over reaction much?"

"Maybe just a tad," he admitted graciously and shrugged.

Valkyrie let the silence fall between them, tense and uncomfortable. She bit her lip. "They know, don't they?"

She watched as he tilted his head forward, thinking.

"Ghastly and Ravel," she continued, "Do they want me dead?"

"No. Just to return to the Sanctuary."

Valkyrie frowned and her reflection did the same – she involuntarily saw a lot of Darquesse in her face and recoiled from the window, startled. Skulduggery looked at her sharply.

"You okay?"

"No," she whispered. She wriggled around in her seat uncomfortably. "I just…why don't we just go to the Sanctuary?"

"And why," said the skeleton slowly, "would we do that?"

"Think about it, Skulduggery," Valkyrie exploded, her face contorted into desperation. "They know now, maybe I can get help. Maybe Ghastly knows someone who…"

Skulduggery shook his head. "Returning to the Sanctuary is a horribly bad idea."

"But Ravel and Ghastly-"

"Want you either secured or neutralised."

A damning silence fell across the two.

Valkyrie felt her breath come in small gasps. "What do you mean neutralised?"

"Five months ago when we started on this journey," Skulduggery explained, "I went to Doctor Nye to see what it would do if Darquesse was ever brought into the Sanctuary. I wanted to know how…how you would be contained."

Valkyrie swallowed. "How?"

Skulduggery's hollowed eyes looked at her steadily. "You would have to still be you, be willing enough to be dissected conscious. And your soul," he paused, falling into thoughtful silence.

"What about it?"

"Nye's figured out how to splice them."

Valkyrie sat up straight. "Well that's great isn't it? Couldn't he cut off the piece that's Darquesse?"

She felt Skulduggery frown down at her. "You keep forgetting, Valkyrie, that you and Darquesse are the one and the same soul. You can't just lop her off like she's extra baggage. No. It can't be done."

"Okay. Fine. So what happens then?"

"Your soul goes into a soul-catcher and you become a Remnant."

"Oh."

"Indeed, oh. The other reason for not going back to the Sanctuary is the fact that if Ghastly and Ravel know about you being Darquesse, then it won't be long before someone else does too."

"Like who?"

"There's a man."

"There always is," Valkyrie murmured.

"Yes. His name is Stinton Sterrange."

Valkyrie nodded slowly. "I've heard of him. He was that right hand man to Strom in the English Sanctuary wasn't he? The one all for sorcerers' rights and stuff."

"Quite. I feel compelled to retract my immature statement earlier; I'm surprised you actually remembered."

"I am amazing when the mood strikes me," she revealed smartly, and smiled.

"Well, Sterrange has led an Uprising across England, Scotland and is currently occupying Belfast. It's chaos. Ghastly believes it has come to war."

"War?" Valkyrie gushed. A part of her flared in excitement. War! Death, blood, killing. There was a war beginning, and the very core of her suddenly longed to be in the centre of it. She jerked her head and shook the feeling down, shuddering.

Skulduggery had noticed. Something about the way his jaw angled towards her told her that he had seen the thrill in her eyes. When he spoke, his soft, mellow voice sounded troubled.

"He is a magic zealot, and wants Darquesse to lead his Uprising."

"Oh…" she replied softly and cast her gaze down to her hands. "Oh, that's…that sucks."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I, umm…" Valkyrie twiddled her thumbs a moment and looked up. Skulduggery's eyes were back to the road but they tilted at her. "I feel happy. That's disturbing, isn't it? I mean, I know I should be horrified at the thought, but this whole war-thing and me leading it, it sounds pretty awesome."

Skulduggery inhaled loudly and the Bentley lurched suddenly to one side, sped along the tarmac loudly and screeched to a sudden halt. Valkyrie's head jarred forward and she felt her neck twinge, she barked objectively in pain and groaned, rubbing it tenderly.

"Oh my god! What happened!?" She asked, wide-eyed as she glanced out of all the Bentley's windows in search of the danger.

"Fuel!" Skulduggery said cheerfully as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "If you want something to eat or drink then grab it now, we're not stopping again," he excited the car, leaving Valkyrie to feel unstably shocked.

o)0+0(o

Geoffrey Scrutinous was blissfully dead, and if Sterrange was the kind of man who kept a list he would have checked it off with a flourish. It was one less thing that he had to worry about.

He was feeling particularly exuberant; news had reached him about Darquesse. About that powerful, wonderful woman.

Her taken name was Valkyrie Cain – such a strong, sensual name. Mysterious. And Sterrange could already picture what she looked liked. Beautiful, like the darkness, just as unfathomable. She would lead him and the Uprising into a new world, one where mages ruled.

Heller Decay broke his reverie, opened the door of his office and stepped in with a straightened back.

"The Irish Sanctuary is onto Darquesse. My informer tells me that Grand Mage Ravel has placed them on the Cardinal list," he told Sterrange, his grey eyes glowed faintly into the yellow light above them. Sterrange noticed there was blood on his trousers but didn't bother to point it out. He had probably been dealing with any rebellious mortals – lately, some had been trying to escape. It had been a tedious task, rounding them up again and putting them away. In the end Heller Decay found it easier to just shoot them.

Sterrange nodded vaguely. "They won't get far."

"I have other news, sir."

"Out with it then, Heller."

"Valkyrie Cain is also known as Stephanie Edgely. She has family living in a town called Haggard."

Decay saw Sterrange's eye widen, the corners of his mouth twisted and coiled into a thin-lipped, delighted smile. "More Ancient descendants?"

"Yes."

"And you are certain?"

"I am positive."

Sterrange gave a little jump in his seat and clapped his hands together, rubbing them furiously. "Oh! This is great news! Great news!"

"How would you like me to deal with them?" Decay asked, a gleam in his steely eyes.

"Oh no, Heller, no!" Sterrange said quickly, thoughtfully. He rubbed his gin eagerly, his teeth bared in a sardonic grin. "This will require a personal touch."

Decay shrugged, nodded and left the room.

o)0+0(o

Valkyrie had spent the best part of a minute digging around the Bentley's nooks and crannies for any lose change, but in the end she was forced to meander Skulduggery's way; his façade was up as he stood by the gas pumps and filled the Bentley. She mumbled something about being hungry and penniless to which Skulduggery sighed, reached into his suit pants and pulled out a few notes. He said something about pets being expensive on upkeep and Valkyrie skipped to the shop.

Her stomach growled loudly as she entered, the smell of stale pies and rolls crashed into her like an almost physical thing. Her saliva pooled in waves and she swallowed and approached the oven.

"Can I help ya?" came a voice from the counter and Valkyrie spun around to find a weedy thin man standing there, almost lost behind the tobacco dispensers behind him. He looked at her with strangely odd-shaped eyes. "Can I help ya?" He asked again.

"Umm, yeah, two pies."

He raised his sparsely haired eyebrows at her and Valkyrie quickly added, "Please."

The shop attendant nodded and moved out from behind the counter to the ovens, packeting the pies; not bothering to ask her what flavour. It didn't matter to her anyway, after a day of growing stale in the heating oven all pies began to taste the same regardless. She was just hungry. Her stomach growled so loud that she could feel it bubble beneath her skin.

The man looked at her, almost embarrassed.

Valkyrie laughed awkwardly. "Been a long day on the road," she said as he closed the oven windows.

"Yeah, sure," he went back behind the counter and dialled up the price. "Is that your car out there?" He said, indicating to the Bentley sitting under the painfully yellow halogen lights. Next to it Skulduggery was closing the fuel cap, his fake lips pursed, whistling.

"It's my friend's," she said, rummaging in her jeans for the cash Skulduggery had given her, she pulled it out in a clenched fist.

"Little old looking to be ya friend," he commented. "Seven-twenty. Anything else?"

"Ah, yeah. A bottle of water, please."

"Yup," he added it and Valkyrie passed him over the money, scrunched and slightly damp from being in her fists. The attendant didn't seem to care and swept it into his till when Skulduggery walked in.

"Did you get everything you wanted?" He eyed the two pies in Valkyrie's hands and she clutched them to her chest defensively.

"What? I'm hungry!"

"My dear, I didn't say anything."

Valkyrie eye-balled him, "Mm-hmm," and went to wait by the Bentley as Skulduggery paid for the fuel.

The temperature was dropping as the night fully descended; Valkyrie guessed it was sometime around six o'clock. She leaned up against her side of the Bentley, opened the packet to her pie and started eating. The meat was thick and warm; it would've tasted bland and floury if she wasn't ravishing.

Skulduggery walked towards her, rubbing the back of his head. "What a terribly confusing fellow," he said bemused. "I asked him if he had been dropped as a child on account of his wobbly eyes and he suddenly, without warning became rather hostile. I didn't even get the correct change back," he looked sadly down at his open palm where a small pile of coins sat and sighed.

Valkyrie snorted, causing the pastry of her pie to fly up around her face.

Skulduggery's expression fell, unimpressed. "You eat with all the grace of a dying pig."

"Shut up!" Valkyrie laughed, and wiped the flakes from her face with a sleeve. "So, now that you're in a good mood, where is it that you're taking me?"

He took her side against the Bentley and tapped his foot on the oil stained concrete. "We're looking for a shape-shifter in Cork."

"I figured that," Valkyrie grunted, taking a massive bite of pie to Skulduggery's annoyance. "But you got to tell me, Skul," she swallowed, "what's up with the shape-shifter? I thought China," she wrinkled her nose at the name, "said they were extinct?"

"Well, not being seen for one hundred years doesn't exactly classify as being extinct. And besides," Skulduggery tilted his hat up a notch as Valkyrie finished her pie and started the next with gusto. He watched her and rolled the eyes of his façade, and struggled on with his explanation as she grinned at him. "Besides, it helps to know how to identify a shape-shifter. They can, after all, be anything."

"Cool! And you can do that?"

"Of course not Valkyrie, that requires an adept magic which hasn't been seen in centuries. No. I'm merely pointing out that I'm almost certain we'll know it when we see it."

Valkyrie frowned. "Yeah, okay, sure. But the million dollar question is Skulduggery, how will a shape-shifter cure," she flapped her free hand at her body, "me?"

Skulduggery made an expression that suggested he wasn't exactly sure himself, and shrugged. "It's the most powerful entity in existence. I'm certain that, if we find it, it'll know what to do."

"What? You mean," said Valkyrie slowly, swallowing the hope that had started rising in her throat. "You mean to say that there's someone out there, with a cure?"

"I mean to say," Skulduggery corrected, "that there is a legend, a lost legend mind, Valkyrie, that hints at the possibility of someone, whose existence hasn't brushed the minds of scholars for centuries now, who may or may not have an idea about our Darquesse dilemma." He lowered the rim of his hat with a finger and studied Valkyrie carefully. "It's all very," he paused, mulling for a word.

"Vague?"

Skulduggery shook his head. "In this instance vague has a particular certainty about it; I'm going to go with dire."

Valkyrie frowned. "Dire? What's so dire about a glimpse of hope? Have you given up on me? Have you given up that I can be cured?"

Skulduggery raised an open palm defensively and calmly explained himself. "I haven't given up, Valkyrie, and I won't. Not until the very last molecule of air has escaped my teeth, in which case, I think I'm obliged to give up a great many things, like my dreams of dancing on Broadway."

"Your dream is to dance on Broadway?"

"Why not? I'm impeccably charismatic. I'll be a show stopper!"

"But you don't dance! You rarely do!"

"That's because I'm not on Broadway," argued Skulduggery.

Valkyrie was about to retort when the air stirred around them and a soft whump! reached their ears from across the gas station. Fletcher stepped from out of the darkness and under the searing pale lights that made his hair shine like a spiky halo above his slightly tanned features. He seemed upset.

Valkyrie wasn't exactly paying attention to him. She was looking at the three Cleavers that stood at his back, each with a hand rested on the teleporter's shoulders. They were Cleavers as far as the conventional Cleavers went, but with cloaks the colour of blood and visors that gleamed a sinister black.

Skulduggery's stance shifted instantly, his knees bent as he stepped forward, shielding her as she continued to gape – reminded horribly of the crimson Cleavers in the alternate world. She had never suspected they existed in her own realm too.

Fletcher swallowed and it could be heard across the lot. "Valkyrie…Valkyrie why? Why didn't you come to us for help?"

Valkyrie felt a lump in her throat when she answered. "Fletcher, I couldn't."

"Why not!?" He shouted and pointed sharply at the detective. "Was it because he said? Is that it!?"

"No, Flet-"

"He doesn't care about you, Valkyrie! He's a selfish, creepy old skeleton who thinks he's always right! Please!" His eyes widened, begging. "Please come back with me to the Sanctuary!"

"Fletcher, I…" she took a shaky breath in. "I can't."

"Please, Valkyrie. Help yourself for once," Fletcher's voice wobbled dangerously.

Skulduggery raised an open palm at him. "Fletcher, I think we can talk-"

Fletcher rounded on him; the halo of spikes around his head seemed to almost flare under the light. "You don't have any right to talk. You can shut-up!"

Skulduggery fell into silence and Valkyrie flared, stormed forward a step when bony fingers tightened around her upper arm and held her back.

"Don't," Skulduggery warned lowly. "I don't like this."

"If something happens we can take them, can't we?" She asked.

"No. I don't like how close we are to the Bentley."

Valkyrie blanched. "You're kidding?"

"I never kid. Cardinals are elementals. If they throw anything our way the Bentley's going to get damaged."

"You're worried about the Bentley?"

"I get the feeling that you're not?"

"Not right at this moment!" Valkyrie hissed.

Skulduggery raised his eyebrows at her in a slightly hurt way. "Then it's a good thing I have a plan."

Without warning he turned and ran into the night, pumping his arms furiously, his long thin legs stretching for speed and distance. Without so much as a sound of their scarlet boots against the cement, two of the three Cardinals fled after him, unsheathing their scythes as they ran.

Valkyrie gaped as his skinny figure disappeared into the night. Honestly, sometimes he drives me mad! She thought heatedly, turning her gazed to Fletcher who seemed just as shocked by Skulduggery's actions as she was.

"So you coming with me, Val? Huh?" Fletcher asked softly, now hopeful. "We can help. I promise we'll try everything."

Valkyrie studied him under the light. He had grown in the last full months, seemed to have filled out a bit in the upper body, but his accent was still the same. Still whiny, still annoying, still telling her to do the safe-thing. The Cardinal behind him had its visor trained on her, and she could see a warped version of herself in its reflection. The shapeless eyes that looked back at her were dark under the sandy light, her mouth convulsed distastefully.

"Fletcher," she warned wearily, leaning back against the Bentley for support, "Fletcher, I'm not quite all right."

"Hey, it's fine. I know you're Darquesse, but you're still Val too." He came towards her.

Valkyrie threw a hand out at him, gesturing him to stop. "I don't want to hurt you, Fletcher. Just go. Please."

"You're on the Cardinal list. I can't just leave you," he implored. He frowned as Valkyrie ducked her head, her black hair rolling forward to cover her face. Her shoulders began to shake.

Valkyrie laughed and looked up. "Well, consider yourself warned!"

o)0+0(o

Fletcher stopped his advance and looked confused, his expression turned to pain as a wall of air knocked him from his feet and sent him flying backwards into the window of the gas shop behind him. The glass cracked but held as he slumped to the ground. Red and white light flashed sporadically in his vision as he watched the Cardinal spring into action.

Valkyrie narrowly avoided the sweep of the scythe as it came towards her mid-section and barely managed to duck under a fireball that came searing her way. She raised a wall of shadows and threw it over the Bentley, protecting it somewhat from whatever might come its way.

The fireball hit the swirling darkness and dissipated. Valkyrie lunged under the scythe again, rolled to her feet, made to stand when the metal came down into her shoulder with a singing ring.

She threw herself forward, the blade coming free from her flesh before it could cleave her in two. The Cardinal moved as fast as she could, faster than she had ever seen a Cleaver move. It moved with an inhuman precision, almost as if it could predict her actions.

Valkyrie managed to get her feet back under her and stumbled into a headlong run. She assumed the soundless steps of the Cardinal to be not too far behind. She felt the air twinge and leaped forward, the tip of the scythe cutting a trail in her lower back. She cried out in pain and spun around, meeting the crimson Cleaver head on.

She punched; her hand covered in spears of darkness and caught the Cardinal clear in the chest. It didn't stagger. Just seemed to pause momentarily to shake off the assault and then raised its hand to push at the air.

Her feet left the ground and Valkyrie flew away into the darkness. The air in her lungs escaped suddenly out from her mouth as her back landed heavily against the concrete. She sucked for air, winded, wounded. Desperately she tried to sit up but the Cardinal stood over her, its scythe pressed to her neck. Fletcher limped up to its side, his face pained.

"I'm really sorry, Val," he murmured and reached a scratched hand out towards her.

Fletcher felt his heart metaphorically stop as the Cardinal beside him begun to shake and shudder behind its reflective visor. It jittered and jerked, each twitch growing more violent than the last until it was forced to let go of its scythe. It clang hollow to the ground in front of Valkyrie who wearily picked herself up from the ground, clutching her split left shoulder that seemed to almost want to peel away from her central body.

With a single motion she thrusted her good fist forward, towards the Cardinal, through its protective cloak and into its chest. There came a crunch and she smashed past bones, and then the audible squelch of something popping gave her cause to smile grimly. Fletcher stumbled backwards as Valkyrie pulled back her arm, a red and throbbing heart in her grip.

The Cardinal seemed to have died standing, and blood gushed from the gaping hole in its chest like a fountain.

Valkyrie looked at the beating muscle and her face saddened. "Not again," she sighed and let it fall from her hands.

Fletcher could feel his body shiver as she stepped on it and drove her heel into the ground and twisted. The heart spurted, and then stopped. He flinched, a flinch that raked his whole body as Valkyrie raised her eyes up at him.

By the sickly glow of the gas station light, Fletcher could just make out the chocolate colour of her irises, swimming behind her wild eyes.

Valkyrie reached a hand out at him and he backed away.

"Val, I'm…you need help. You desperately need help!" He stammered, backing up further. Horror filled him as she followed him step for step.

"You can't help me," she said, laughing a little at the mere mention of it. "There's no cure for what I am."

"Yes there is!" Underneath his shoe Fletcher felt his sole snag on a raised ledge of cement and he tripped, stumbling backward onto his behind.

Valkyrie loomed over him, unimpressed. "God, you're so weak," she pressed her boot against his chest and pushed down. "Why don't you just die, Fletcher Renn?"

Fletcher screamed as his ribs popped. Blood somehow found its way into his mouth and he realised with horror that he had bitten his own tongue – was still biting it, trying to mask the pain of his chest cavity collapsing with another pain.

:D Story stats. So far the story is 44,000 words long! I've written out all the main body chapters and just linking them up, adding stuff and things. The conversation at the beginning of this chapter was the first thing I ever wrote for this story xD And it only took 33,000 words to get there hahahahaha -_-...sigh...

D: WILL FLETCHER DIE!?

Oh Val :'C why you get so evil...?

Reviews if you have a moment! :D ah~!