Free Death Bringer by Derek Landy Page B

ugly one?”
    â€œWhichever one you were talking about.”
    â€œIt was the ugly one,” Skulduggery confirmed.
    â€œStop calling my kid ugly!”
    Valkyrie elbowed Skulduggery in the ribs. “Apologise this instant,” she said through gritted teeth.
    â€œOf course,” Skulduggery said, and leaned down to the window. “I’m very sorry!” he said loudly so they could hear. “Sometimes I say things and I’m not aware that I’m saying them until it’s too late. It’s entirely my fault. My sincerest apologies for any offence caused.” He straightened up.
    The American finally dragged his eyes off Skulduggery. “This,” he said, “is the nastiest town I’ve ever been to.”
    â€œI couldn’t agree with you more,” Valkyrie said.
    He glared at Skulduggery one final time, then got into the rental car and drove off.
    â€œWhat,” Valkyrie said, “was that?”
    Skulduggery tilted his head. “What was what?”
    â€œYou called his kid ugly!”
    â€œDid I?”
    â€œIt just happened twenty seconds ago!”
    â€œOh. I didn’t notice, to be honest. My mind was elsewhere. I’m sure I was joking, though. And I’m sure he knew I was joking. It’s all fine. It was an ugly kid, though. Did you see it? It’s like it had two half-finished faces pushed together. Still, all that’s in the past. I do hope they come back. They seemed nice. Come along.”
    He walked towards the Sanctuary. Valkyrie hurried to catch up.
    â€œAre you feeling OK?” she asked.
    â€œMe?”
    â€œYou.”
    â€œI suppose I’m feeling a little discombobulated. A little out of sorts. But I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Why are we here?”
    She frowned. “We’re meeting with the Elders about Melancholia.”
    He snapped his fingers. “Yes! Excellent. Good. So we are. Marvellous.”
    The Bentley was parked outside an ugly building of concrete and granite. The Sanctuary was round and flat and low, and squatted beside the stagnant lake like someone had dropped it from a great height. It had one main entrance and three hidden exits. No windows. No paint. No frills. Inside it was just as frugal, stone walls and curving corridors flowing in a concentric pattern to the middle. Cleavers stood guard and sorcerers and officials went about their business. No matter the weather outside, it was always cold in the Sanctuary.
    The Administrator met them when they entered. “Detectives Pleasant and Cain, the Council is waiting for you.”
    Skulduggery nodded. “Lead the way, Tipstaff.”
    Tipstaff nodded politely. They followed him on a bisecting route through the ever-decreasing circles of corridors, straight to the Round Room at the building’s core.
    Pictures of dead Elders lined the walls, salvaged from the gloom by small spotlights. Three large chairs, like thrones, were placed in the middle of the room, and on those thrones sat the Elders. Ghastly Bespoke sat to the left, the light playing on the ridges of the scars that covered his entire head. In the middle sat Grand Mage Erskine Ravel, a handsome man with beautiful eyes and the slyest smile Valkyrie had ever seen, and on the right sat Madame Mist, a Child of the Spider, who looked at them through her veil. Out of all three Elders, she was the only one who didn’t seem to mind the robes they had to wear.
    â€œSkulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain seek an audience with the Council,” Tipstaff announced, bowing before them. “Does the Council acquiesce?”
    Ghastly sighed. “Is this really necessary?”
    Tipstaff looked up. “Protocol must be followed, Elder Bespoke.”
    â€œBut they’re our friends.”
    â€œThat may be so, yet rules exist to guard us from chaos. This is a new Sanctuary, and protocol must be established and followed.”
    â€œSo we sit up here on these bloody