Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [136]
Craven was so scared that he was actually relieved when the door burst open and the Rippers stormed in.
Three Necromancers panicked so much they found themselves charging towards the sickle-wielding maniacs. Swift swishes of those long blades cut them down mid-step, with only one of them having the time to make a sound. Craven grabbed the White Cleaver, pushed him towards them.
“Save me!” he screeched. “Protect me!”
The White Cleaver needed no further instruction. He dived into their midst, his scythe flashing.
Craven stumbled back with Adrienna Shade, doing his best to keep her in front of him. Melancholia strode across the floor to them, smiling.
“Shall we depart?” she asked, her hands on their arms, and the shadows swirled around them and then they were in darkness and gloom, away from the sounds of fighting. They were down below, in the caves. Shade tore herself from Melancholia’s touch, turned and ran. Melancholia laughed and sent a shadow to slice through her back. Shade collapsed and Melancholia smiled at Craven. “You’re not going to run from me, are you?”
“No,” Craven managed to say.
“I need somewhere quiet if I want to kill a country, and I need someone to look out for me while I do it.”
“I’d… I’d be honoured. But we need to keep moving. There are creatures down here who feed on magic, and if the Rippers find us…”
“I wouldn’t worry about the Rippers or the monsters,” she laughed. “If I were you, I’d worry about Skulduggery Pleasant.”
Craven stared at her. “He isn’t dead?”
“Oh, he’s dead, but it’s the same dead as always. He and Valkyrie weren’t in the crowd when I took all those lives. I’d say they’re looking for us as we speak. Come.”
She turned, led the way through the tunnel.
She was going to kill him. There was no way round it – Melancholia was going to kill him, and she wasn’t trying to hide it. Craven knew what his options were. He could run, but he doubted he’d get very far, or he could fight, but that option scared him even more than running. He knew what Solomon Wreath would do in his place. He would bide his time, wait until Melancholia was distracted, and then he’d attack. It would be short, sharp and brutal. She’d be dead before she knew what had happened. That’s what Wreath would do, and he wouldn’t hesitate, either. He’d have that assurance he was always so good at wielding.
Craven didn’t have that level of assurance, though. He was afraid he’d panic, misjudge the attack, or miss the moment. And then what would happen? She’d turn to him, laugh at his pathetic attempt, and with a casual flick of the wrist, she’d tear him apart.
His eyes came to rest on the back of Melancholia’s head as she walked. If Wreath was with him, it would have been over by now. Melancholia would be lying dead on the ground, and they’d go back to looking for a Death Bringer they could control. But Craven was alone, and it was up to him to save himself. He raised his hands, feeling the power in his amulet ready to burst forth. His tongue slid over his dry lips. The ground levelled off and Melancholia walked in a straight line, like she was inviting him to try it.
What if she was inviting him? And what if he missed?
Head pounding in his chest, Craven lowered his trembling hands. He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk making the attempt and failing. He couldn’t risk angering her. For all he knew, maybe she’d decided that she needed him around to look out for her. Maybe she wasn’t going to kill him after all.
Melancholia looked at him over her shoulder, and he saw the smile on her lips and in her eyes, which were still glowing with that deep, deep red.
Chapter 53
The Death Bringer Rises
hey had come when they’d heard Gordon shouting for help. Skulduggery had leaped over fallen bodies, Valkyrie right behind him. They burst into the ballroom. All around them, the guests lay on the floor, silent and unmoving.
The ring was so cold on Valkyrie’s finger that it almost