Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [38]
“Take one step and I swear I’ll kill you.”
Melancholia laughed. Valkyrie heard the back door open and saw Caelan blurring towards them, fangs bared, but the shadows were already curling around her and suddenly Melancholia was taking her shadow-walking. Valkyrie cursed, the shadows went away and she went stumbling to the grass. She looked up to the Martello tower beside her. They were on the cliffs overlooking the beach. But that was impossible. Shadow-walking was strictly short-range teleportation.
“No other Necromancer could shadow-walk this far,” Melancholia murmured, obviously thinking the same thing. She looked back to the twinkling lights of the town. “How far was that? A kilometre? Two?”
At least they weren’t in the house any more, or anywhere near Alice. Valkyrie got to her feet, and Melancholia remembered she was there.
“A vampire?” she said. “In your house? Was it coming for me or for you? Ah, I don’t suppose it matters. Unless it’s feasting on your little sister as we speak. Now that would be amusing.”
“Why are you here?” Valkyrie asked. “Why are you out alone? Lord Vile is still on the loose, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Melancholia sighed. “Lord Vile is overrated. Cleric Craven told me that he’s really not as powerful as all the stories say.”
“Craven? You’d put your trust in Craven?”
“At least he isn’t running scared like your skeleton friend. And he has faith. He knows that if Vile does show up, and I doubt that he will, it won’t be a fair fight. I’ll crush that armour of his with him still inside. What’s left of him will ooze out of the eyeholes in his mask.”
“And you came all this way to tell me that?”
“I came all this way to tell you that when I save the world, I’m not going to be saving you. You’re not on my list.”
“I’ll get by fine without you, don’t worry about it.”
Melancholia laughed. “You’re so tough, aren’t you? With all your fighting moves and your Elemental magic and your dainty little ring. I don’t need an object in which to store my Necromancy. My power is stored inside me. I am my own weapon.”
“Is there a point to any of this?”
“Yes, actually. There is. You’re not on my list.”
A fist of shadows crunched into Valkyrie’s chest and lifted her off her feet.
“And if you’re not on my list,” Melancholia continued breezily, “then you don’t get saved.”
Valkyrie struggled to get to her hands and knees. The shot had knocked the wind out of her. “Seriously?” she managed to say. “We’re going to fight?”
“Who said anything about fighting?” Melancholia asked. “I’m going to slash you to ribbons and you’re going to take it. I’d hardly call that a fight.”
Melancholia frowned, almost to herself, and for a moment she seemed to sway, like she was going to collapse. She suddenly looked drained. She looked exhausted.
Valkyrie stood slowly, warily, looking out for the trap. A moan drifted from Melancholia’s lips, and Valkyrie realised it wasn’t an act – Melancholia really was hurting.
And then, just as suddenly as the weakness had hit, it left her, and Melancholia straightened up. The darkness turned sharp and whipped across Valkyrie’s right arm. Blood sprang into the air and she cried out. Melancholia raised an eyebrow and something sliced Valkyrie’s back, opening up her skin as easily as it opened her T-shirt. Valkyrie stumbled, cursed, raised her hand, but the shadows wrapped around her wrist. They tightened and she screamed, the shadows cutting into her flesh like piano wire. The ring flew from her finger into Melancholia’s hand.
“A gaudy trinket,” Melancholia said, examining it, “containing an insignificant amount of power. Cleric Wreath had faith in you on the basis of this? How disappointing.”
Valkyrie pretended to stagger, closing the distance between them, and then she lunged, but Melancholia twisted the darkness into a claw that ripped into her belly. Valkyrie doubled over, gasping at the white-hot pain. Another claw slashed her face. She spun, fell, blood running down her neck. Her face was ruined, cut