Free The Faceless Ones (Skulduggery Pleasant - Book 3) by Derek Landy Page A

longer dreamy. "The lines, they've turned black. They're rotting away."
    "Where are you?"
    "I can hear them. I can ... I can hear their whispers...."
    "Who can you hear?"
    "The Faceless Ones."
    "Don't. Can you hear me? Stay away from them."
    "Oh God."
    "Finbar, stay away--"
    "Oh God, they know where we are. They know where we are. They've found us and they're waiting to be let in. They're at the gate and they're waiting to he let in!"
    "Finbar," Skulduggery said urgently. "Where are you? Tell us where you are right now."
    Finbar extended his arm toward the sink, and
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    Valkyrie jerked her head back to avoid the knife that flew into his hand. He stabbed downward into the map, and then his arms dropped by his sides and his head dipped.
    "Finbar?" Skulduggery said softly. "Finbar, can you hear me? "
    A low chuckle escaped his lips. He flew into the air, knocking both Valkyrie and Skulduggery off their feet. The table collapsed, and Finbar turned to face them. His limbs were twitching and his eyes were still closed.
    He opened his mouth, and a voice that was not his, a voice that was a hundred thousand other voices, said, "Cannot stop us."
    Skulduggery scrambled up, and something hit him and sent him crashing back against the wall.
    "World will fall," the voices said. "World will crumble. We are coming."
    Finbar fell to the floor, crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut. Valkyrie stood. Behind her, Skulduggery groaned and got up.
    Finbar raised his head and looked around drowsily.
    "Whoa," he said.
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    Valkyrie helped him into the only upright chair in the kitchen.
    "I hate being possessed," he said. "Happens all the time when you're a Sensitive. Usually, it's pretty easy to spot, because you've got red eyes or a deep voice or you're hovering in midair or something, but sometimes it isn't. I was possessed by the spirit of Napoleon for a week before Sharon noticed anything strange about me. I think it was the accent."
    "Can you tell us anything about whatever that was?" Skulduggery asked.
    "I'm sorry," Finbar said, and Valkyrie noticed how pale he was. "That was freaky, man. That was some powerful mojo. Like, insanely powerful, y'know? My mind just got touched by a god's mucky fingers, and it didn't feel too good."
    Skulduggery lifted the map, examining the spot where the knife had plunged. "This is it, is it?"
    Finbar shrugged. "If that's where I pointed to, that's where the walls of reality are at their weakest. That's where the gateway is."
    "Batu probably already knows the location," Valkyrie said. "He's had fifty years to find it."
    "But without the Isthmus Anchor and a Teleporter, that information has been useless to
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    him." Skulduggery folded the map. "Do you mind if I take this, Finbar?"
    "Not at all, Skul-man." Finbar stood on shaky legs. "Anything else I can help you with?"
    "You've done more than enough."
    "That's cool." Finbar looked at Valkyrie. "Want a tattoo?"
    "Yes," Valkyrie said.
    "No," Skulduggery said. "We're leaving now."
    Valkyrie scowled as she followed him out into the rain. "I could have just got a small one."
    "Your parents would kill me."
    "Being around you puts my life in constant danger. I've fought monsters and vampires and I've almost died twice, and you think they'd choose to kill you over a tattoo?"
    "Parents are funny that way."
    Skulduggery's phone rang, and the moment he realized who was calling him, his voice went frosty. He made no attempt to hide his distaste. He hung up as they got to the Bentley.
    "We have a meeting," he said.
    "Who with?"
    "Solomon Wreath. He has some information he'd like to share."
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    "Who's Solomon Wreath?"
    "The who is not important. It's the what you should be worried about."
    "All right then-- what is Solomon Wreath?"
    "He's a Necromancer," Skulduggery said, and got into the car.
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    Eleven
    ***
    W reath
    Skulduggery and Valkyrie drove in silence.
    Gradually, the streets became dirtier and the buildings smaller. The rain added to the gray effect of