Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [123]
“My my,” the man said, his chins quivering with his words, “if it isn’t the Skeleton Detective himself, come down off his mountain to grace us lowly sorcerers with his presence. I am so honoured and awestruck that I fear I am at a loss. Should I bow? Kneel? Curtsey?”
“Leave?” Skulduggery suggested, and the man laughed uproariously.
His small eyes turned to Valkyrie. “And you, my dear, this vision in black, must be Valkyrie Cain herself.” She didn’t like the way he looked at her – he was taking far too long. “Skulduggery, my sincerest congratulations – you’ve picked a good one here. Pretty, too. I can see why you take her wherever you go. Not too smart, though, am I right?”
Valkyrie glanced at Skulduggery. “It’s not just me, is it? He is begging for a box, isn’t he?”
“Indeed he is,” Skulduggery said.
“I think so too,” nodded Vex.
“You can go ahead and hit him if you like,” said Skulduggery.
The man laughed, held up his hands. They were pale and soft, like they’d never seen a day’s work. “I surrender!” he mock-cried. “I yield! Please don’t let the girl strike me!”
Valkyrie was going to hit him out of pure principle, but the boy in the tuxedo took hold of the fat man’s arm and tugged it sharply.
“Father,” he said, “I think you’ve had too much wine. Perhaps you would like some air?”
“There’s plenty of air in here,” the man said, “although it seems to be primarily hot air.” He laughed at his own joke, and disentangled himself. “Miss Cain, this is my son, who has taken the grand and noble name of Hansard Kray, and I am his embarrassing father, the scurrilous and drunken Arthur Dagan. See how he blushes for me? Is that not the sign of a loyal and loving child?”
“I’m very sorry,” Hansard said. He was taller than his father, and lean. The only trait they seemed to share was the colour of their hair.
“Don’t apologise for me!” Arthur snapped. “And especially not to her!”
Skulduggery was right by Valkyrie’s elbow, but remained quiet. She appreciated that. Any other man would have leaped in to defend her honour. Valkyrie was quite capable of doing that herself.
“Do you have a problem with me?” she asked Arthur.
“A problem?” he echoed. “No! My word, no! Not at all! I’m sure, given time, we could be the best of friends, were it not for your unfortunate habit of murdering my gods.”
“Oh,” she said, understanding at last. “You’re a disciple of the Faceless Ones.”
“Indeed I am,” Arthur said, bowing before her. “In the spirit of openness and togetherness that the new Council of Elders wants to project, I have been invited, for the first time, to the Requiem Ball, where all you people laugh and chortle and pat each other’s backs for defeating the evil Mevolent and his evil followers – of which I was one.”
“You didn’t have to come,” Valkyrie pointed out.
“And you don’t tell me what to do,” Arthur sneered. “You’ll get your come-uppance, you know. You’ll pay for all the things you’ve done.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Hansard Kray said, trying to pull his father away.
“I should put you over my knee,” Arthur said loudly, keeping his eyes on Valkyrie, “and spank you here in front of everyone.”
A waiter appeared, tried to help Hansard’s efforts, but Arthur shoved him back. He waved a fat finger at Valkyrie. “You watch yourself, girl. You watch yourself. Your time is coming.”
Finally, Hansard managed to turn his father, and they plunged through the gathered crowd until it swallowed them up. A moment passed, and slowly the conversations picked up again.
Valkyrie turned to Skulduggery. “He was lovely!” she beamed.
“Arthur Dagan’s family was once royalty,” Skulduggery told her, “or something close to it. Mevolent served under his grandfather for a time, before he came to power himself. Arthur hasn’t handled their fall from grace with as much dignity as one might wish for. Hopefully, his son fares better.”
There was a shout, and then a door burst open and men in ski masks poured