Skulduggery Pleasant_ Death Bringer - Derek Landy [59]
“And what are her duties?” asked Gallow.
“To usher in the Passage, and to save the world. If your next question is to ask me about the Passage, you can save your breath. It is something of a mystery, even to those who trade in mysteries. Suffice to say, the end result is a supposedly better world where the living and the dead exist side by side.”
“Ridiculous,” Scorn said. “That would completely negate death. It would reduce it to a mere concept.”
“And, possibly, make the world a better place.”
Scorn shook her head. “The world is how the Faceless Ones left it, and that is how it shall stay. If it looks like the Necromancers have a chance of success, we may have to act against them.”
“But that’s what the Sanctuary is doing,” Prave said, hurrying over. “Shouldn’t we stay out of it? We’d just get in the way.”
Scorn didn’t even look at him, but Gallow did, and Prave shrank back. “I don’t know you,” Gallow said. “I’ve just met you. Already I want to hurt you.”
“You, uh, you actually do know me,” Prave said. “We met twice, actually. It was only for a few minutes, though, so you probably don’t remember.”
“I don’t,” Gallow said. “At all. Even remotely. And I’m glad. Remembering you would annoy me. It would mean you somehow managed to take up space in my head, and I reserve space in my head for people who interest me or, at the very least, have something worthwhile to offer. Now shut up, and don’t say anything else.”
Prave gaped at him. “How… how dare you. I rescued the Church of the Faceless from collapse. I built it back up to—”
“You built it back up to this?” Gallow didn’t have to gesture to his surroundings to make his point. “You’re a weak, miserable little man, with no concept of what it will take to bring back the Dark Gods. We could leave this Death Bringer business to the Sanctuary, but that would mean entrusting the Sanctuary with all of our future plans. Is that what you want?”
Scorn turned her head, smiled at Prave. “Maybe you could make us all some tea.”
Prave blinked his bulbous eyes. “Tea?”
“A nice big pot, there’s a good man.”
“But… but I’m in this! I’m involved in… in this whole thing. I’m one of the leaders!”
Scorn raised an eyebrow. “You? Oh, my word, no. No, Prave, you are not one of the leaders. There is only one leader here, and that is me. Gallow is my second, China is our reluctant sponsor and untrustworthy ally, and you’re the one who makes the tea. So, Prave, enough of this silly talk and the giving of your inconsequential opinions. Be a dear, and go and make the tea.”
Prave closed his mouth, his wet lips pressing together like slippery eels, then turned abruptly and left the room. His ears, which were substantial, burned so red they practically left a heat trail behind him.
Scorn nodded to China. “Continue.”
“Melancholia attacked Valkyrie Cain, and the Sanctuary have seized upon the chance to issue an arrest warrant.”
“They’re getting ready to strike,” Scorn murmured.
“What about Lord Vile?” Gallow asked. “I haven’t been so out of the loop that I didn’t hear of his return.”
“His supposed return,” Scorn said. “But has he been seen since he battled Skulduggery Pleasant?”
Gallow looked at her. “You think his return is a lie?”
“Perhaps. What could spook the Necromancers more than a rumour that Lord Vile is out to get them?”
“But if he has returned, and he does seek to destroy the Death Bringer, then maybe we can convince him to come back to our side.”
Scorn looked at him. “And how do you propose we do that? Are you going to use your longstanding friendship with him to delay his killing stroke while you make your case? Oh, no, that’s right. You don’t have a longstanding friendship with him, do you? No one does. We may have fought alongside him during