Death Bringer by Derek Landy
“I don’t get it,” said Crystal.
“You don’t have to get it,” Carol said. “You just have to do it.”
“Uh, actually, you do have to get it,” Valkyrie said. “Magic is all around us, but the only way we can really use it is if we understand how it works. It’s like science.”
“I hate science,” said Carol.
“I preferred drama,” Crystal nodded. She snapped her palm, again and again, and nothing happened. “Isn’t there any magic where you don’t have to learn so much? That’s a magic ring you’re wearing, isn’t it? Could we use that?”
Valkyrie smiled. “Afraid not. This is Necromancy.”
“Do you need to study stuff to use it?” Carol asked.
Valkyrie hesitated. “Not really…”
“So it’s easier than pushing air?”
“Just because it’s easier doesn’t mean it’s better. There is a downside to power that comes without effort.”
“It sounds perfect for us, though,” Crystal said. “Can I try?”
“I’d… I’d have to give you my permission to use it.”
“So? Give your permission. Please, Stephanie?”
Her cousins opened their eyes as wide as they could go, a trick that worked on their parents, Valkyrie knew, but which had the unfortunate side-effect of making them look like startled goldfish. She shrugged.
“Crystal,” she said, “I give you my permission to use this ring.” She pulled the ring from her finger and handed it over.
Mouth open in awe, Crystal examined the ring for a few moments before slipping it on. Immediately she frowned. “Oh,” she said. “It’s cold.”
“Necromancy is death magic,” Valkyrie said. “Believe me, when that ring is around death, it gets even colder.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Carol reached out. “Let me try.”
Crystal pulled her hand away. “Wait your turn. So what do I do, Stephanie? Is there a magic spell I have to say, or something?”
Valkyrie scanned the area, making sure there was no one about. “No spell. Can you feel anything, apart from how cold the ring is? You should feel it in your fingertips.”
Crystal narrowed her eyes and waggled her fingers. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think so. I might.”
“See our shadows? Try and grab them.”
“Really?”
“Just try it.”
Crystal bit her lip, then hunkered down and clutched at the sand their shadows covered. “Am I doing it right?”
“Not really,” Valkyrie admitted.
“My turn,” said Carol.
“Just wait a minute,” Crystal responded, grabbing at sand, her annoyance increasing.
“Stephanie, she’s had her go,” Carol whined.
“Just give her another few seconds,” Valkyrie said. “You keep pushing at the air.”
“Pushing at the air is stupid,” Carol muttered, but she did it anyway.
Valkyrie watched them both – Carol trying to shove the breeze and Crystal trying to pick up her own shadow – and she did her best not to laugh.
“Girls,” said a voice behind them.
They turned quickly. Fergus stood there, hands on his hips and looking displeased.
“Hi, Dad,” Carol said.
Crystal stood up, hiding the ring behind her back. “Hi, Dad. We were just…”
“We were doing t’ai chi,” Valkyrie said. “It’s very relaxing.”
Carol nodded quickly. “We’ve been very tense lately.”
“Girls,” Fergus said, “your mother wants you back at the house. Go on, now.”
The twins glanced at each other, then Crystal stepped in front of Valkyrie in the most unconvincing attempt at nonchalance ever witnessed. Valkyrie took her ring back, and Crystal turned to her.
“Thanks for trying to teach us,” she said.
“No problem.”
The twins walked off, leaving Valkyrie and Fergus alone on the sand. His eyes never left her.
“How’s your mother?” he asked.
“She’s OK. It was more the shock than—”
“How’s your dad?”
“Uh, he’s OK.”
“The baby?”
“Alice’s fine too.”
Fergus nodded. “And how are you, Stephanie? Are you keeping out of trouble?”
“So far.”
“And what’s that you were showing the girls? T’ai chi, was it?”
“Yep. It’s a martial art, but it’s very gentle and—”
“I know what t’ai chi is, Stephanie. I’ve seen people do it in the park. And that wasn’t what you were teaching them.”
“Well, I, I might have been doing it wrong…”
His next words were angry. “What gives you the right?”
She blinked. “Uh… I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. What gives you the right?”
“I’m not entirely sure what you mean.”
He stepped forward quickly, closing the gap between them. His fists were clenched and his face was red. For a moment, Valkyrie even thought he was going to hit her.
He snarled, “What gives you the right to teach my daughters that filthy magic?”
She stared. “What?”
“They’re my daughters!” he snapped. “They’re good girls! I’ve kept them out of the kind of trouble you get into and I will be damned if I’m going to let you drag them down with you.”
She took a step back. “Fergus, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid!” he roared, then immediately looked around, making sure no one else had heard. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but no less intense. “You’re not stupid, Stephanie. You’re not a stupid girl. We all know it. We all know how smart you are. My girls aren’t like that. My girls need someone to look out for them. That’s my job.”
“I’m not getting them into anything,” said Valkyrie.
“This is a sickness, you know that?” he said, so angry he was almost laughing. “My grandfather had it. This magic thing. He told us all about it when we were kids, me and Gordon and your dad. He tried to pass on what he knew to us. He didn’t have much magic. He couldn’t do a whole lot. Some people can’t, he said. He was hoping that we’d be different, that we’d be proper sorcerers. We loved the idea, but our dad, he hated it. He didn’t want us growing up and getting into wars that had nothing to do with us. He wanted us to be normal. He wanted us to be safe.”
Valkyrie just stared at him, unable to speak.
“When our grandfather died, our dad asked me to cut it out – cut out all the nonsense and the games and the stories. He asked me, and he cried as he was asking me. The only time I’d ever seen my old man cry. Of course I said yes. I started telling Des that it was all just pretend. After a while, he believed me. But Gordon wouldn’t play along. He was the eldest, and he refused to do what our dad wanted. Maybe it was because he was the eldest that he felt he needed to rebel, I don’t know. They barely spoke after that.”
“So you’ve known all along,” Valkyrie said.
Fergus nodded. He seemed suddenly drained, like this had been building inside him for years and now that it was out, he had nothing to hold him up. “I knew that Gordon always wanted to be a sorcerer, but he just didn’t have it in him. So he wrote about it instead, and he travelled that world, surrounded himself with all these strange people. I don’t know why he did it, to be honest. It must have been hell, to be surrounded by the kind of person that you wanted to be with all your heart, but knew you never could.
“We had so many arguments about it. I was focusing so much on keeping all of this away from your dad. I was terrified that Gordon would do or say something that’d make Des realise that it was all true. And then what would he do? Would he change his life, now that he knew magic was out there? Would he take Melissa with him? Would he take you with him? Would he ruin your lives as well as his own?” Fergus shook his head. “I saw some of Gordon’s
“Skulduggery Pleasant,” Valkyrie said softly.
“Oh,” said Fergus. “So you do remember him.”
“Yeah.”
“Magic ruined our family. My grandfather and my father argued about it constantly. Gordon and my father barely spoke because of it. And Gordon and me… When he died, we hadn’t spoken in four years. Four whole years, I didn’t speak to my own brother. I cry about that at night, you know. Some nights, I just can’t help it. Don’t let this ruin your family, Stephanie. Your parents love you. Your dad loves you. Do you know what he’d do if anything bad ever happened to you?”
“Nothing bad is going to happen.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” he said, glaring. “I was never as smart as either of my brothers, but I’m not stupid, either. If you’re involved in that world, your life is in danger.”
Valkyrie said nothing.
“I don’t want you teaching my daughters anything,” he said.
“I don’t want to either, I swear I don’t. They saw me do something last year, and they’ve been at me ever since. I think I can convince them that they don’t have any magic, and then hopefully they’ll stop trying.”
“Do I have your word on that?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“I’m holding you responsible if anything… magical ever happens to them.”
“OK,” she said.
He nodded, looked out to sea, and then back to her. “I’m sorry I shouted at you.”
“It’s fine. Really.”
“Are you going to be teaching Alice any of this? When she’s old enough?”
“I… don’t know. I’d prefer not to.”
“Then you understand why I don’t want my girls taught?”
“Yes.”
He nodded again, then looked down at his feet. “Give our best to your mother,” he said.
“Sure.”
He turned, started to walk away.
“Gordon couldn’t do magic,” she called after him, “but what about you?”
He didn’t stop walking, and he didn’t answer. He just held up his left hand, and clicked his fingers. Even in the bright sunlight, Valkyrie saw the spark between his fingertips.
Chapter 36
Confiding in Uncle Gordon
he taxi driver peered out through the windscreen. “I know this place,” he said. “This is where that writer lived. What’s his name? Edgley.”
Valkyrie gave a murmur of affirmation from the back seat. “I read his books, you know. Some of them. He wasn’t the best, was he? I mean, he was OK. He was readable. He was no Stephen King, but he was fine. Didn’t like the way he’d kill off his characters, though. That was never nice.”
“Suppose not,” Valkyrie muttered.
“He wrote those books about the army deserter, didn’t he? Corporal Fleece, getting into all those mad adventures with the ghosts of dead wizards and whatever.”
“Dead sorcerers,” she corrected automatically.
“Same thing, isn’t it? Did you read any of them? In the first book you meet him, you think he’s the brave hero. But he’s not. He’s a selfish little coward. Didn’t like that. It was funny enough, in its own way, but I didn’t like it. I like my heroes to be, you know, good guys.”
Valkyrie sat forward. “You can let me out here,” she said. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
She paid the man and got out, then walked up the long driveway. She missed being able to call Fletcher, have him teleport her wherever she needed to go. He could be annoying, he could be very annoying, but he always smiled when he saw her, and it was like he’d been saving up that smile all day until they were together. She liked that feeling, as much as she hated to admit it. She liked being around someone who was genuinely happy to be around her.
It wasn’t the same feeling she got when she was with Caelan. There was too much pressure there, too much expectation. He looked at her like she belonged to him, like they belonged together. He was handsome – he was so handsome – and he was smooth and dark and dangerous. But beyond that, there wasn’t much to him. Valkyrie really didn’t see that lasting. She needed someone fun, someone who could make her laugh, who could take her places she’d never been. If she didn’t have anyone like that, then what was the point of being with anyone less?
Valkyrie let herself into Gordon’s house, deactivating the alarm. She went through, passing the rooms she normally visited, noting how clean everything looked and how fresh everything smelled. She pushed open the double doors into the ballroom, turned on the light. Brand-new chandeliers hung from the ceiling, sparkling like diamonds. The floor was polished, with tables and chairs stacked up on one side, ready to be set out. It was quiet right now, her every footstep echoing around the empty space, and she tried imagining what it would look like filled with people. The last time the house had been full was at Gordon’s funeral.
She climbed the stairs to Gordon’s study where he’d done all his writing when he was alive. In here Valkyrie flicked the switch and the bookcase opened. She walked through into the hidden room. Gordon Edgley looked round, smiled, and held up a hand while he finished speaking.
“… it lunged, this thing of claws and fangs and muscle, and with a swipe, it opened the belly of the prison guard, spilling his entrails across the rough stone floor. Recording end.” The electronic device on the table beeped, and Gordon grinned. “The new book is going really well.”
She nodded appreciatively. “It sounds it.”
“I dare say it’s better than anything I wrote when I was alive. It has pathos. It has emotion. It has entrails. It has everything you could want in a posthumous bestseller, recently uncovered in a hidden archive. This is going to make you a lot of money, my dear niece. But then, what do you care about money? When have you ever cared about money?”
Valkyrie shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll come in useful. Probably more for Mum and Dad than for me, though.”
“And little sister,” Gordon said. “Don’t forget the new addition. I was thinking, I might write a book for younger readers when I’m finished with this one – give her something to read when she’s a little older. Oh, the possibilities. To think, if it wasn’t for you insisting that I reveal my existence to Skulduggery and the others, I’d be spending my days in the Echo Stone, waiting for you to drop by for a visit.”
The stone lay in its cradle on the desk, the cradle itself standing on a symbol that China Sorrows had carved into the wood. It fooled the stone into thinking there was a living person in the room at all times, meaning Gordon’s image could stay active. In this room he had voice-activated televisions and computers, gadgets of all kinds. He was loving this second chance at life.
“I like the chandeliers,” said Valkyrie.
“You don’t think they’re too over the top? I was worried they might be. This is going to be a big night for me. This is the first time I get to meet most of these amazing people, and I don’t want anyone to think I’m showing off.”
“They’re lovely.”
“I’m glad you think so. There have been cleaning crews in here for the last few days, getting everything ready for Sunday. Do you have your dress picked out?”
“I don’t know if I’m going.”
Gordon frowned. “What? But you have to go. This is your house.”
“It’s your house, and you don’t need me.”
He looked at her. “Tell me what the matter is.”
“I just had an interesting conversation with Fergus.”
“Oh?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that he knew about
Gordon blinked. “Excuse me?”
“I was giving the twins a lesson on the beach. He saw us, sent them away, started on a whole tirade about refusing to let me drag them into magic because magic had torn his family apart.”
“Really?”
“Very really.”
“That… that surprises me.”
“It caught me a little off guard too. He gave me the whole family history on the subject.”
“That must have been nice.”
“It was a bonding moment.”
“To be honest,” Gordon said, “I thought he’d convinced himself that none of it was real. He did such a good job with your dad, I thought he genuinely believed it himself. Once we got into our twenties, you see, we never argued about actual magic. We argued about the weirdos and the freaks I associated with, we argued about my lifestyle and my attitude, but by then he had stopped using words like sorcerers. I didn’t realise he was still… aware of it all.”
“Well, he was, and he still is. He even has some himself.”
“Fergus? Fergus has magic?”
“There’s definitely something there,” she said. “Without proper instruction he wouldn’t be able to do anything more than generate a spark, but even so…”
“Even so,” Gordon finished, “it shows he has magic. How I would have envied him if I had known while I lived.”
“You don’t envy him now?”
Gordon smiled. “I have so many other things to envy him for, my dear, such as living, that magic becomes insignificant. How did you leave it?”
“He told me not to teach the twins anything, and I agreed.”
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
Gordon shook his head. “That brother of mine is a riddle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a cardigan.”
“Oh, there is something else. He said he regrets not speaking to you for four years.”
Gordon smiled sadly. “Mm. Well. Yes. Regrets. I’ve had a few. That’s all very interesting, I have to say. All very interesting indeed. Do you have any other bombshells to drop on me today? You may as well get it over with while I’m still partly in shock.”
There was a single chair in the room, and Valkyrie slouched into it, crossing her legs. “I’ve got one or two. The least of which is that I’ve broken up with Fletcher.”