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Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [11]

By Root 1481 0

“Someone’s dead in here,” she whispered.

Stepping slowly and carefully, they entered the living room, where small porcelain figurines lined every surface and an old woman sat in an armchair, very dead.

Skulduggery took out his gun.

“Wait a second,” Fletcher said, his eyes widening. “Look at her. This was natural causes. She was old. Old people die. That’s what old people do.”

Skulduggery shook his head. “There was someone else here.”

He motioned them to stay put, and left the room. Fletcher looked at Valkyrie searchingly, but all she could do was shrug. After a few moments, Skulduggery came back in and put his gun away.

“How do you know there was someone else here?” she asked.

He nodded behind him as he took a small bag of rainbow dust from his pocket. “Notice the figurines. Horrible little things, aren’t they? Little cherubs, cheap and tasteless. See how they’re so lovingly arranged, evenly spaced, all looking outwards? Now look at the ones beside you.”

Valkyrie looked down. Fat little figurines, holding harps and little bows and arrows, were positioned haphazardly along the edge of the cabinet. “They fell,” she said, “and someone put them back in a hurry. Someone who didn’t care enough to face them all in the same direction.”

Skulduggery broke up the lumps in the powder. He took a pinch and threw it into the air. It fell gently in a small cloud, changing colour as it did so. “Adept magic was used,” he murmured. “Hard to tell what sort. But it was recent.”

“How recent?” Valkyrie asked.

Skulduggery put the bag away. “The last ten minutes.”

Fletcher glanced over his shoulder. “So the attacker could still be in the area?”

Skulduggery took out his gun again. “Always a possibility.”

Valkyrie patted Fletcher’s arm. “Don’t worry,” she said. “If the bad man comes, I’ll protect you.”

“If the bad man comes,” Fletcher responded, “I’ll bravely give out a high-pitched scream to distract him. I may even bravely faint, to give him a false sense of security. That will be your signal to strike.”

“We make a great team.”

“Just don’t forget to stand in front of me the whole time,” he said, and then yelled. Valkyrie jumped and Skulduggery whirled, and Fletcher pointed at the window. “Outside!” he blurted. “Bad man! Outside!”

Skulduggery charged, thrust his hand against the air and the window exploded outwards. He jumped through, Valkyrie and Fletcher right behind him. The rain pelted them, made the ground muddy. A bald man in black slipped on the trail that led into the woods, fell to his hands and knees. He cast a quick glance behind him. He had a long nose and a ridiculous goatee beard that ended in wispy trails far below his chin. He fumbled with something they couldn’t see, and then sprang up. He slipped and slid, but kept on running, leaving a wooden box open on the ground behind him.

“Back,” Skulduggery said. “Back inside the house. Move!”

Valkyrie went first, vaulted through the broken window, landing just as Fletcher teleported in. Skulduggery came last, flattening himself against the wall.

“Hide,” he whispered.

They ducked down.

The rain battered the cottage. Valkyrie risked a look up at Skulduggery.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“It’s a box,” he whispered back.

“What kind of box?”

“A wooden one.”

She gave him a look. “OK, I’ll try this. Why are we hiding from a box?”

“We’re not. We’re hiding from what’s inside the box.”

“What’s in the box?”

“Is it a head?” Fletcher asked.

“It’s the Jitter Girls.”

He peeked out. Valkyrie raised herself up slightly so she could see over the windowsill. The wooden box sat there on the trail in the mud and the rain.

“Who are the Jitter Girls?” she asked.

“Triplets,” Skulduggery said. “Born in 1931. When they were six years old, something tried to get into this world through them.”

“Through them?”

“It planted seeds in their minds, changed them mentally and physically. It dragged them just out of step with our reality, tried to make them a conduit through which it could emerge.”

“What are we talking about here?” Fletcher asked. “A Faceless One?”

“No,” Skulduggery said,

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