Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [49]
“On what charge are you arresting her, Detective?”
“Assault on a Sanctuary agent.”
Craven chuckled. “The Death Bringer, our great and glorious saviour, has not left the Temple since her Surge. Maybe you would be better off putting your energies into finding Lord Vile, instead of making up false allegations.”
“She assaulted Valkyrie Cain.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She went to her house while her little baby sister slept inside. You didn’t know about that, did you? That your little saviour had sneaked out for a bit?”
Craven didn’t allow his surprise to register on his face. “Miss Cain was attacked? How dreadful. I do hope there’s no permanent damage. Is there?”
“If there was, Craven, you and your friends here would already be dead.” There was something in Pleasant’s voice that assured Craven that what he was saying was true. “In the meantime, we’re going to have to take Melancholia in for questioning.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”
“Hand her over.”
“We all know what’s going on here. This is religious persecution.”
“Glorifying death is not a religion, it’s a sickness.”
“You are offending me.”
“Look at the face I don’t have, Craven, and tell me if it looks like I care. She broke the law. If you harbour her, you’re breaking it too.”
“So does that mean you’re going to arrest me, Detective? You’re going to arrest all of us? I hate to point out the obvious, but there are more of us than there are of you.” At his words, the Necromancers started moving, encircling the Sanctuary agents. “I think it might be best for everyone if you just turned round and went away. Don’t you think so, Detective?”
“If you try to stop us from carrying out our official duty, the full force of the Sanctuary will come raining down on this Temple.”
“Well now, that certainly seems intimidating. Until, of course, you take into account that within this self-same Temple, we happen to have the Death Bringer, who would be the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen. So, factoring that in, your little threat doesn’t really mean a whole lot, now does it? To be honest, there isn’t anything you can do to stop us from doing anything we want to do. I don’t wish to worry you, or any of the brave agents and operatives behind you, but we could kill you all right here and right now, and we’d get away with it.”
Pleasant tilted his head slightly. “That’s where your mind is going, is it?”
“That’s the thought that has just entered my head, yes.”
“Kill us. Kill the next group of agents who come. Kill the next.”
“There is a pleasing simplicity to it, isn’t there?”
“We’ll be back, Craven. And there’ll be more of us.”
Craven shook his head. “Too late for that, I’m afraid. My mind is made up. These are your final moments.”
“Is that so? You’re going to give the order, then?”
“It’s been a pleasure talking to you. Necromancers—”
Pleasant’s hand blurred, and suddenly he was holding a gun, pointing it straight at Craven. “If you issue that order to attack, and if these Necromancers do manage to defeat us – which I doubt – then you won’t get to see any of that. I’ll put a bullet in your brain from right here, where I’m standing. You’ll be dead before you hit the ground. Certainly, you’ll be dead before any of your friends even move towards me. So you’ll never know if they beat us or not. And you’ll never know if we come back here with an army, and drag your Death Bringer away in shackles. You’ll never know any of that. So go ahead, Craven. Give the order. Sacrifice yourself for the well-being of your Death Bringer. Be a martyr.”
Craven hadn’t realised it before, but he was thirsty. There was nothing in the world he wanted more right at that moment than a glass of water.
“We’re going to walk out of here,” Pleasant continued. “We’re going to do it slowly. Your friends can back up against the walls. It’ll probably be safer for them if they do so, because if even one Necromancer stands between us and the door, we’re going to kill every last one of you. But you’ll be first, Craven.