Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [129]
“It’s still reckless,” Solus said, but speaking without gusto. “If they find us here, all our plans will be for nought.”
“No matter where the Death Bringer is when she initiates the Passage,” said Craven, “the Sanctuary forces will converge on her. They may even stop her before the Passage is complete. We can’t risk that. All my plans have been born out of necessity. We needed someone to tip them off as to our whereabouts, so Melancholia told Wreath he was in danger. We needed to make them think Melancholia was dead, so I killed her reflection before any seasoned sorcerer could get a good look at her. We need to take out our enemies before the Passage begins, so we come to them, and allow the Death Bringer to use her wonderful new talents to snatch their lives away. No fighting. No violence. No chance of defeat. I have thought of everything, Cleric Solus. All you need to do is trust me. So I ask – do you trust me?”
The White Cleaver stepped beside Craven, and Solus swallowed thickly.
“I trust you,” he said.
“You trust me…?”
Solus cleared his throat. “I trust you, Your Eminence.”
Craven smiled. “I thought you might.”
Chapter 50
China’s Ally
hina hated mingling, but it was a necessary evil to which she had grown both accustomed and excessively proficient in. Even without her ability to make people fall in love with her, she could charm a room as easily as shrugging. A little light laugh, a touch on the arm, a lingering look, the right words at the right time, they could all get her what she wanted, providing she had an agenda she wished to fulfil.
And tonight, she had such an agenda.
The drawback of being notorious, as China could well attest, was the ripple effect. When she had been at the peak of her notoriety, she could walk into any room and every head would turn and every conversation would grow quiet. Hushed whispers would spread outwards from the epicentre, ensuring that everyone would know where she was and who she was talking with.
Even as little as ten years ago, China would have had that effect on this room. But thanks to a growing, and somewhat puzzling, aura of respectability that had surrounded her lately, this year the Most Notorious honour went to Eliza Scorn.
China drifted from conversation to dance to anecdote, always with Eliza in sight, keeping note of who she spoke to and, just as importantly, who she ignored. Gallow had promised to furnish China with the list of benefactors, but he was running late.
“China,” a deep voice rumbled behind her. Frightening Jones was a large man with ebony skin who fitted into his tuxedo exceedingly well. “Always a pleasure,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Frightening,” China replied, “how good to see you again. The last time I saw you, you were trying to kill me.”
“I doubt I would have posed much of a threat to one such as you, China, even with a Remnant inside me.”
“You flatterer,” China said, manoeuvring slightly so that she kept Eliza in view. “But you’re quite right. I almost killed you, in fact. It was only your ex-girlfriend who stopped me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Tanith? How is she? Have you heard anything?”
“Nothing at all,” China said, doing her best to sound as if she was sad about that. “She’s on the run with that dreadful Texan. You should talk to Ghastly about it – he’d know much more than I.”
“Ah,” Frightening said, looking uncomfortable, “maybe later. Elder Bespoke is a busy man.”
China smiled, amused. “And you’re sure it has nothing to do with you being in love with the same woman?”
“In love, perhaps, but at different times, and that’s the important part. My love for Tanith has faded somewhat since we parted, so I now only have a deep, deep affection for her. Ghastly, however, is neck deep in love.”
“I will never understand the taste of certain