Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [14]
“But I thought you wanted her to excel,” Tenebrae said, laughing while Wreath smirked. Craven’s face burned, but he managed a grateful smile nonetheless.
“Waste your time however you want,” Tenebrae said, waving his hand. “But right now, the Cain girl seems to be the one viable possibility we have. No other Temple around the world has any candidates of worth. All eyes are resting on us. Cleric Wreath, I hope she doesn’t let us down.”
“As do I, Your Eminence,” Wreath said, nodding instead of bowing. Tenebrae didn’t seem to mind.
Craven stormed into the depths of the Temple, replaying the conversation in his head, substituting the things he had said with the things he wished he had said. They were so much better, all the caustic witticisms that occurred to him afterwards. They made him sound strong and smart and in control. In his imagination, he never blushed.
He reached the heavy wooden door, and spent a few moments calming himself. Tenebrae’s days were numbered, as were Wreath’s. Quiver, he wasn’t so sure of. Quiver never mocked him. Quiver never mocked anyone.
He entered the room, and Melancholia raised her head.
“I’m tired,” she said. She spent half her time tired. The other half was spent pacing the floor, practically crackling with energy. It was either one or the other – extremely powerful or extremely weak. Craven had wanted another few days to run more tests, to find the source of the instability and purge it, but his patience had run out.
“It’s time,” he said. “I’m presenting you to the High Priest. Clean that sweat from your face and follow me.”
“I don’t feel well,” she said, almost whimpered.
“I don’t care!” he roared, and grabbed Melancholia’s arm, yanking her to her feet. “They will not laugh at me again! No one will ever laugh at me again! We will wipe the smiles from their smug faces and they will worship you and obey me!”
She looked at him fearfully, with tears in her eyes, and he caught his anger and quelled it. He couldn’t afford to lose her. He couldn’t afford to lose the trust he had spent so long building up while he was carving those symbols into her flesh and listening to her scream.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “I’ll be with you. No one will hurt you while I’m with you. You’re a very special girl, and I love you as I would my own daughter.”
Melancholia nodded bravely, and he gave her a gentle smile as he led her to the door. What he’d said was quite true – he did love her like a daughter. He had a daughter, somewhere in the world, and he absolutely and without reservation despised her.
Chapter 5
The Jitter Girls
alkyrie and Skulduggery backed away from the window.
The first Jitter Girl approached in that awful, messed-up, stop-motion way, moving slowly, her face blank. She reached the wall and vanished, and was suddenly inside the cottage with them.
Skulduggery’s hand closed around Valkyrie’s wrist. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “Don’t look at her.”
Fighting the urge to run, Valkyrie stayed where she was and kept her eyes down. The Jitter Girl flickered into her peripheral vision. Her heart thundered in her chest like hoof beats. The Jitter Girl paused, maybe to examine the porcelain figures on the sideboard. Valkyrie’s hair was wet. Her jeans were damp and her top was sticking to her. She was aware of all of this as she stood perfectly still. One of the Jitter Girl’s sisters moved slowly by the window.
The Jitter Girl passed behind Valkyrie, out of her line of sight. Valkyrie had never wanted to turn round so much in her life. Goosebumps rippled her flesh.
There was a mirror on the wall. Valkyrie could see Skulduggery and herself reflected on the edge of the glass. Her mouth was dry. In the mirror, she saw a pale hand slowly reaching for her own.
Skulduggery grabbed her, twisted her away, the air rushing as they hurtled through the broken window without finesse. They landed in the mud and scrambled up, a Jitter Girl on either side. The Girls grew as they came forward. Every flash made them bigger, made them older, made their hair paler and wilder. Their faces changed,