Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [140]
He strode towards her and she smiled, and her eyes glowed brighter, and he stiffened. His gloved hands fell from his wrists, and the bones of his arms slipped through his shirtsleeves to clatter to the rock floor. His knees buckled, his legs parting from his shoes as his body collapsed on to itself. His ribcage bulged against his shirt and his head hit the ground and rolled, the jawbone spinning away.
Valkyrie breathed out, the air emptying from her lungs. She was still and quiet and cold. She was calm. Melancholia had taken Skulduggery’s soul. Without his soul, there was no magic to keep his body together. Now it was just a skeleton, just a heap of old bones. He was gone. He was gone and Melancholia had taken him from her.
Melancholia smiled. “That was easy,” she said.
Valkyrie breathed in, breathed in all her pain and anger and fury. She breathed in all those things she wanted to tell him, but now never could, all those words she wanted to say, but now never would. She breathed in her strength and her horror and her loss, let it fill her, let it fill every inch of her, and then she screamed, threw Skulduggery’s jacket to one side and jumped, using the air to propel her down towards Melancholia like a bullet. Melancholia laughed and flicked a hand, and the shadows rose to slam Valkyrie into the cavern ceiling. They vanished and she fell, trying to use the air to cushion her landing, but another shadow wrapped itself around her waist and yanked her sideways. A second flick of Melancholia’s wrist and Valkyrie was hurled into the wall. The impact forced the breath out of her, and she dropped and lay there, gasping.
A shadow tightened around her ankle, and she groaned as she was lifted off the ground. She dangled, swaying, trying to breathe, upside down and at eye level with Melancholia.
“Such an anti-climax,” Melancholia said. “Isn’t it? Can’t you feel it? With all the animosity between us, all those jibes, all that history… And here, right at the end, we have our final showdown and you… you are found wanting, as they say.” Melancholia leaned in. “Goodnight, Valkyrie. It’s been irrelevant.”
The shadows rose around them, turned sharp, and Valkyrie snarled, grabbed Melancholia’s hair and slammed her forehead into that smirking face. White light exploded behind her eyes, the shadows vanished and Valkyrie fell as Melancholia stumbled back, howling in pain. Valkyrie blinked, struggling to get her bearings. She managed to get to her feet, but she was so dazed she fell to one knee again. Melancholia cursed and staggered around, blood pumping from her nose. She stumbled right in front of Valkyrie and Valkyrie lunged, smashed into her, taking her to the ground. She dropped elbows and palm shots, barely able to focus, only knowing that she couldn’t let up, not even to catch her breath.
“Craven!” Melancholia cried. “Get her off me!”
And still Valkyrie hit her, trying to get through the arms that Melancholia held up to protect her head. Not one thought was given to Craven. Craven wasn’t important. The only important thing was to smash Melancholia into unconsciousness.
“Craven!” Melancholia screamed.
A fist of shadows collided with Valkyrie, shunting her off, sending her sprawling. Melancholia clambered to her feet as Craven hurried over.
“Are you OK?” he asked. “Is there anything I can—”
Melancholia reached out, and a tendril of darkness coiled around Craven’s neck and tightened. “You were going to leave me,” she snarled, spitting blood. “You were going to let her kill me.”
“No,” Craven gasped.
“You wanted her to kill me, so that you wouldn’t have to try and do it yourself, didn’t you?”
Craven dropped to his knees, his face red, his eyes bulging.
Melancholia stood over him. “But you’re too much of a coward even for that, aren’t you? You couldn’t take the risk that she wouldn’t be able to finish me. You were terrified of what I’d do to you.”
Craven was unable to speak. The only thing he could do was nod. The tendril released him and he fell forward, sucking in air.
“You’d do well to remember that fear,” Melancholia said,