Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [153]
She flew high, and fast, and he gave chase. The sky was cloudless, the moon half-full, the stars out over the countryside that flashed beneath her. He was gaining and so she flew faster. She glanced back in time to see him give a burst of speed, and they collided, went spinning through the air, grappling. Everywhere Vile was in contact with her spikes would grow. They couldn’t get through her clothes but they cut her hands, her neck, her face. She hit him but his mask had turned sharp and jagged and it punctured her fist, breaking the knuckles.
She kicked away, swooped under his grab and veered towards the lights of the city, to where the sky turned orange and hid the stars. As she flew, she examined the pain she was feeling, then dampened it and healed herself. Healed her back and her fingernails too, all the little cuts and scratches and bruises. It was freezing up here, but she didn’t care about the cold. The wind in her face, her hair blown back, the trouble she was having taking a breath… It was all just a part of being alive. And Darquesse liked being alive.
She looked back. Vile flew like a bullet, arms down at his sides, streamlined and efficient. She laughed, holding her own arms out like Superman. All she needed now was a cape.
The night snatched Vile away. One moment he was behind her, the next he was gone. She looked round and he emerged from the dark ahead of her but she didn’t alter her course. She curled her hands into fists and flew straight into him, catching him in the gut, speeding on with him folded over her. His left hand grabbed her wrist, squeezed it so tightly her bones broke. She healed them instantly. He reached to her with his right hand, his armoured glove finding her face, his thumb seeking her eye. She turned her head but he had a good grip. If he burst her eyeball, how quickly would she be able to repair it?
She didn’t know, so she let him do it, and as an experiment she allowed the pain in. His thumb burst her eye and she shrieked. Her body convulsed and she twisted in mid-air. Vile’s momentum carried him onwards, but Darquesse didn’t care about him – all she cared about was the extraordinary pain she was experiencing. Her hands were covering her face, feeling the blood and the jelly leak down her cheek. She realised she was still screaming, screaming and roaring and crying, turning in circles in the air. When the pain was too much, she shut it off, and calmly pressed the remains of her eye back into its socket. An interesting experiment.
She opened her good eye, saw Vile coming for her. His shoulder slammed into her belly, his arm encircled her, and they hurtled downwards. She blinked. The vision in her bad eye turned from nothing to blurry to perfect. Better than her right eye, in fact. To compensate, she sharpened that eye as well, and then returned her attention to her current predicament. She tried to look down at what they were flying towards but the wind was blowing her hair in the way. She wrapped her legs around Vile’s waist, grabbed him where she could, and flipped, so that now she was the pilot forcing him down. And now that her hair was out of the way, she could see what they were heading towards. O’Connell Street, in the middle of Dublin.
“Oh,” she said, and then they crashed.
Chapter 59
Hero and Villain
arquesse lay there in the broken road, looking up at the suddenly starless sky in the last few moments of life, and she managed a shaky laugh. Her body was smashed. Her lungs were burst and her heart wasn’t beating. Her limbs were twisted, her spine was pulverised, her head was cracked open. She could feel her brain starting to swell, so that was the first thing she healed. She wouldn’t be able to do much thinking without her brain.
It was somewhere between four and five on a Monday morning. She healed her spine and raised her head, looked around. No civilians were standing there, staring with open mouths. Pity. She’d have liked to