Valkyrie had never seen guards like these.

They had chased her through this madhouse like they were smoking out a rat. Down corridors, trapped behind doors, fighting back out from dead-ends. They had scythes, and while Valkyrie was well practiced fighting against them, it really sucked.

They were almost like Cleavers. Valkyrie peaked out from behind a corner, Aura Vision on. Nothing, no sickly pale color.

She was filthy and covered in sweat. Aby had burrowed into the ground like she was the rat. The walls were slick with wet earth that clung to her like hands, making her magic finicky and hard to control.

She licked her lips, got a mouthful of dirt for her troubles, and moved off.

Even if Skulduggery was being tortured, she would never be able to find him. His screams would be swallowed by the walls. If he was gagged, she wouldn't be able to see him, nearly pitch black as it was.

And walking around with her Aura Vision on was giving her a killer headache.

She wandered around aimlessly for twenty minutes. The guards had chased away any sense of direction, and she was disoriented.

But finally, finally, she might have gotten close. There were torches implanted into the dirt of the walls. Not regular flame, but something a little paler, that burned cold. Like the guards, Valkyrie guessed them to be a hangover from Aby's younger days.

Wait.

Valkyrie perked, because was that… Yes, it was. Whistling.

She grinned and angled herself towards the sound. Another few corridors and she found Skulduggery chained to the wall. No room, no special door, just chains extending into the dirt behind him.

"Obviously," she whispered, crouching to examine the chains, "she's still upset about the whole 'murdering' thing."

Skulduggery's façade raised an easy eyebrow. "Oh, was it the kidnapping that gave it away? The torture these Cleavers have been putting me through? Or was it the monolog she gave when she captured me?"

"No. She didn't even give you a room." She gave an experimental tug at the chains. "Well, they're certainly in there."

"May I ask what took you so long?"

Valkyrie grimaced. "We thought she was keeping you at the island. That involved trying to prepare for an assault, trying to find the damn island, talking to a magical oceanographer, only to get a tip that she had been spotted in Argentina."

"Ah," was all he said.

"Okay, I'm going to cut you lose." She stood and brandished her stole scythe. "It's really important that you don't move."

Skulduggery's façade pressed his lips together. "Well, I am chained to the damn wall."

"Right." Valkyrie hesitated.

"You're hesitating."

"It's… your eyeballs. They're freaking me out."

Skulduggery closed his eyes. "I wouldn't want you to lob off by head, after all."

Valkyrie took a deep breath and swung downwards. But she shouldn't have worried; the scythe cut through the metal like butter.

Skulduggery hopped up and brushed off his t-shirt.

Valkyrie frowned. "Aw, did they steal your suit?"

"Something like that. An emasculation tactic, no doubt. Now, not to nag, but I would dearly love to get out of this burrow of hell. I'm assuming you know the way out?"

"Sure."

Valkyrie led him back to where the torches ended and ripped one out of the wall, leading him into the dark.

They came to a junction and stopped. Valkyrie tried to reverse her path in her head, shining the torch this way and that.

"You don't know the way out, then."

"You have the fancy air-reading abilities. I'm no longer the designated navigator."

Skulduggery nodded, lips twisting. "Fair enough."

He nodded left and they moved off. He was suspiciously quiet.

"You're judging me, aren't you?" she whispered.

"Not at all."

"You're judging me because I'm lost. There are these guards—I don't know if they're the same ones who have been checking up on you, but they're everywhere. And they're savage. Every time I kill one, two more pop up in their place. They almost killed me like, three times."

Skulduggery nodded. "I'm not surprised. These are as close to Cleavers as you can get."

"Yeah, their auras are similar, actually. What are they?"

"It's what was done back in the day." Skulduggery paused, hand splayed, then moved right. "You would wipe a mage's memory, destroy a good part of his cerebrum. However, unlike modern day Cleavers, the only personality that is erased is the nonviolent portions."

Skulduggery still had his façade on. The enhancements China had made, plus the t-shirt and jeans, was giving Valkyrie the creeps.

Skulduggery continued: "Of course, this is a faulty tactic. Everybody has different anger responses, while sometimes you would destroy all the soldier's impulse control. It is more costly to train them from children, but ultimately—"

"Hey, what's up with your façade?"

Skulduggery looked at her and blinked. "You interrupted me."

Valkyrie stopped. "Skulduggery…"

Skulduggery looked at her, eyes brown and wide and sad. "Valkyrie."

They stared at each other.

Valkyrie reached out and grabbed his arm. Warm, blood pulsing underneath her fingers—alive, alive, alive. Thin muscle, not hollow imitations, she could feel the sinew, the bone. His skin, damp with perspiration and dirt. Hair.

She ripped her hand away and turned abruptly.

"Oh," she said loudly.

And then the blunt end of a scythe smacked against her head. She staggered, swinging the torch wildly to keep away the proto-Cleaver. But he hadn't even been close to her ears or the back of her head, so besides blood leaking down from a gash on her forehead, her awareness snapped back immediately.

Skulduggery had covered for her, pushing the Cleaver back with air as best he could. He was weak, she could see that now, dehydration, maybe, hunger.

She threw the torch down and snapped forward with the scythe, catching the Cleaver's own blade away from Skulduggery. He was quick, but he was right handed and came in from Valkyrie's left. She quickly hooked the back of her blade under his, stopping his swing.

She swung forward and it was over, his neck open, red like watermelon.

But already the other Cleavers were showing up.

Skulduggery set one on fire, breathing heavily—actually breathing oxygen into desperate lungs—then swung towards her. He crashed into her, drove her back against the wall.

The earth swallowed them.

Valkyrie's hand that had been holding the scythe was jammed to her side, forced to release the scythe. All she heard was the roar of the earth in her ears, the taste of dirt in her mouth, up her nose, in her ears. Skulduggery's hand at the back of her head, the rocks digging into her back.

Then nothing.

Her ears rang and she blinked the dirt out of her eyes.

Skulduggery had his arms wrapped around her, his head resting on her shoulder as he gasped for breath. She could feel the sweat drip off him.

"I just," he rasped, "need to rest… for a second."

She could feel his heartbeat against her chest. He must have felt hers, too. Must have been just as blind in the oppressive darkness.

"I didn't find you in time," she said.

His head was turned towards her neck, and she felt his lips on her skin. "You couldn't have known."

And then they were moving upwards, the rocks digging into Valkyrie's head, the roar, the roar, Skulduggery's hand, his chest against hers.

They emerged into the brilliant sunshine.

Skulduggery fell away from her, gasping for air, clutching his side. Valkyrie stared at him in the light, fascinated

The jungle buzzed around them, the sounds of insects and trees swaying. She snapped her gaze away and stood. Shook the dirt off of herself, out of her eyes and ears. Spat out grit and stood over Skulduggery.

"Come on. They'll be looking for us above ground."

"I'm dying," Skulduggery said.

"No, you have a stitch in your side."

"I don't remember them hurting this much."

She helped him off the ground. She checked the position of the sun and set off in the direction of the town. It was late—she must have been down there for six hours at least. She was starving and thirsty, and the humid air wasn't helping.

Skulduggery walked with his arm over his head, working out the stitch in his side.

"You're staring," he said.

She snapped her eyes forward. "I haven't seen you in a few weeks."

"I think what you actually meant to say is: 'I've never seen you alive and I'm absolutely enthralled and intensely curious to ask you about it.'" Skulduggery was gritting his teeth. "I think I'm intensely dehydrated."

"You're still sweating, so that's good."

"This is awful. I haven't had a headache in hundreds of years. I'm sorry you have them so often."

"Oh, well, I have some stuff back at the village. Town. Thing. I can give you some Aspirin leaves when we get there."

Skulduggery's face twisted—eyebrows together, thin smile. "Don't call them that."

He had short, brown hair. It wasn't… gorgeous hair. Like Fletcher's, that honey blond. Or Tanith's. It was brown, maybe a little dark, unwashed. And he had brown eyes. Shoulders not as broad as she would have thought. He was still tall, but with his build, he seemed less looming. Not thin, lean, maybe…

He wasn't ugly. But he wasn't attractive, either. A rather oval face, a nose that wasn't bulbous, not too large, but just there. Lips that were neither full nor thin. Eyes that slanted downwards.

"You're staring again."

Valkyrie snapped her eyes forward again. "Sorry."

Was it… rude to ask about it?

"Valkyrie?" Same smooth, velvet voice.

"Yeah?"

"I think I have to…" Skulduggery cleared his throat. "Relieve myself."

Valkyrie looked at him. "Oh."

Skulduggery pointed. "I'm going to go behind that tree."

"Okay. Yeah, cool."

Right. So Skulduggery peed now. That's fine. That was totally normal, because he was alive now. He… He had parts now.

She groaned, running her hands over her face.

"Everything alright?"

Valkyrie jumped away from Skulduggery. "Yeah!" she yelled. "Sorry, I didn't hear you coming. Yeah, everything's fine, I just want to get out of this jungle and get you some water. And get back to Ireland."

"Of course."

They walked in silence, skirting around groves of thorns, squinting through the canopy to adjust their position relative to the sun. Bird chorused above them, and Valkyrie shrieked as they walked through spider webs.

Finally: "I'm assuming you have some questions."

Valkyrie glanced over, trying to be casual. "Hm?"

"Questions about the whole alive business, Valkyrie. I'm going to answer the obvious ones. Yes, Abyssinia did this. I don't know why, but she did this with several locals, in a similar process to her own resurrection. However, she kept me sedated, most likely through a medium of some sort. It hurt."

Valkyrie felt shame drip down her back like cold water. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. I was alive for about two days before you found me. That estimate might be off, as my circadian rhythm was… less than reliable. They gave me enough water and food to get by. They stopped, most likely when you entered the facility."

Valkyrie bit her lip.

Skulduggery looked at her and shrugged one shoulder. "Ask whatever it is you're thinking."

"Is… Is this what you looked like before you died?"

"From what I could discern, yes."

"And the torture?"

Skulduggery looked straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed; Valkyrie had the feeling they did that a lot. "When I was alive."

"Is it weird?"

Skulduggery looked at her, mouthing the words she had just said. "Yes. No. It's… like déjà vu. I had forgotten certain sensations. But as they occur…" He flexed his hand. "I remember them, vaguely." He looked away from her. "Is it… strange, for you?"

She considered lying for a brief second. "It is," she muttered.

Skulduggery pressed his lips together tightly.


I raise you this.