Free Skulduggery Pleasant by Derek Landy Page B

step she hadn't been expecting. "I don't know; I'm not sure. . . . Black?"
    Ghastly nodded and scribbled in his notebook. "Can't go wrong with black." He looked at Skulduggery. "Just let me lock up," he said. "Then we can talk properly."
    While they waited for him to do so, Skulduggery and Stephanie wandered into the back
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    of the shop. Fabrics of all types and textures were arranged very neatly on massive shelves that lined the walls. There was a single workplace in the center of the room and another doorway leading farther back.
    "He's going to make me clothes?" Stephanie whispered.
    "Yes, he is."
    "Doesn't he need to take measurements or something?"
    "One glance, that's all he needs."
    They passed through into a small living room, and moments later Ghastly joined them. Stephanie and Skulduggery sat on the narrow sofa, and Ghastly sat in the armchair across from them, both feet flat on the ground and fingers steepled.
    "So what's all this about?" he asked.
    "We're investigating Gordon Edgley's murder," Skulduggery said.
    "Murder?" Ghastly said after a short pause.
    "Indeed."
    "Who would want to kill Gordon?"
    "We think Serpine did it. We think he was looking for something."
    "Skul," Ghastly said, frowning, "usually when you want my help, you just call and we go
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    off and you get me into a fight. You've never explained what's going on before, so why are you doing it now?"
    "This is a different type of help I need."
    "So you don't need me to hit anyone?"
    "We'd just like your help in finding out what Serpine is after."
    "I see," Ghastly said, nodding his head.
    "You don't see, do you?"
    "No," Ghastly said immediately. "I really don't know what you want me to do."
    "We think Serpine is after the Scepter of the Ancients," Stephanie said, and she felt Skulduggery sink lower into the cushion beside her.
    "The what?" Ghastly said, his smile reappearing. "You're not serious, are you? Listen, I don't know what my dear friend here has been saying, but the Scepter isn't real."
    "Serpine thinks it's real. We think that has something to do with my uncle's death."
    "I'm sorry for your loss," Ghastly said. "I really am. I respected Gordon. He knew there was magic in the world, and he wasn't seduced by it. He just wanted to observe and to write about it. That takes a strength that I hope has been passed on to you."
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    Stephanie didn't answer. Skulduggery didn't look at her.
    "But," Ghastly continued, "to say that his death has something to do with a legend that has been passed down from generation to generation, and that has changed with each telling, is just nonsense. He had a heart attack. He was mortal. He died. That's what mortals do. Let him have his death."
    "I think my uncle knew where the Scepter is, or he had it, and Serpine killed him, and now Serpine knows where it is, and that's why he wants the key."
    "What key?"
    "The key to get the Scepter, maybe. We're not sure. What we do know is that he tried to kill me twice to get it."
    Ghastly shook his head. "This isn't your world."
    "I'm a part of it now."
    "You've just stepped into it. You've seen magic and sorcerers and a living skeleton, and I bet you're having great fun--but you haven't the slightest idea what's at stake."
    Skulduggery didn't say anything. Stephanie got to her feet.
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    "You know what?" she said. "For me, this is an adventure. That's what you're saying, isn't it? Well, you're right. I do look at all this as a big adventure, and I'm fascinated and excited and thrilled by it all. I've seen amazing people do amazing things, and I've been amazed." Her eyes hardened. "But don't you dare, for one second, think that this is just a game to me. My uncle left me a fortune--he left me everything I could ever want--he did all that for me, but he's dead now. So now I'm going to do something for him--I'm going to find out who killed him, and I'm going to do what I can to make sure they don't just walk away from it. He's got to have someone on his side."
    "This is