"Do you think we stand a chance against Serpine?" Tanith asked. "Tome? Bliss? That Cleaver? Do you really think we stand a chance against all of them?"

"What do you suggest we do?" Skulduggery said, his voice slow and steady. "Stand back and let Serpine grow stronger? Stand back and let him recruit more allies, let him open the door and let the Faceless Ones come through?"

"He's winning, okay? Serpine is winning this war!"

"No such thing."

"What?"

345.

"There's no such thing as winning or losing. There is won and there is lost, there is victory and defeat. There are absolutes. Everything in between is still left to fight for. Serpine will have won only when there is no one left to stand against him. Until then, there is only the struggle, because tides do what tides do--they turn."

"This is insane--"

He turned to her so sharply that Stephanie thought he might strike her.

"I've just seen a very dear friend turn into a statue, Tanith. Meritorious and Crow, two of the few people in this world I respected, have been murdered. So yes, you're right when you say our allies are dropping like flies, but this was never going to be an easy fight. Casualties are to be expected. And you know what we do? We step over them and we move on, because we don't have any other choice. Now I'm going to stop Serpine once and for all. Anyone who wants to come with me, they're welcome. Anyone who doesn't, it won't make a blind bit of difference. Serpine will be stopped, and that's all there is to it."

He got into the Bentley and started the engine. Stephanie hesitated, then opened the 346.

pa.s.senger door and slid in. She glanced at Skulduggery as she buckled up, but he was staring straight ahead. He waited three seconds, then put the car into gear and was about to drive off when Tanith got in behind them.

"No need to get all dramatic about it," she muttered, and Stephanie managed to smile. Skulduggery pulled out onto the road, driving fast.

"Where are we going?" Stephanie asked.

"Weren't you listening?" Skulduggery responded, sounding as if he was back to his old self. "We're going to stop Serpine. I just made a whole speech about it. It was very good."

Tanith leaned forward. "You know where he is?"

"Yes, I do. It came to me just there, as I was filling the tank."

"What did?"

"The Scepter. Why did Serpine go after the Scepter?"

Stephanie frowned. "Because it's the ultimate weapon."

"And why did he want it?"

"To, you know, to retrieve the ritual he needs to bring the Faceless Ones back, to force whoever knows it to tell him."

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"No."

"He isn't going to use it to retrieve the ritual?"

"The Scepter's too clumsy, too unwieldy. If he threatens to kill the only person in the world who knows how to work the ritual--what if that person chooses death rather than hand it over? What's he supposed to do then? No. He used the Scepter to kill the Elders. That's the only reason he wanted it. He knew he wasn't powerful enough to take them on without it."

"And so how does that help him retrieve the ritual?"

"This isn't just about the ritual anymore. What do you get if you kill the Elders?"

"This sounds like a joke."

"Valkyrie--"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Now think. What would killing the Elders result in?"

"Panic? Fear? Three empty parking s.p.a.ces in the Sanctuary?"

Skulduggery looked at her, and Stephanie's confusion lifted. "Oh G.o.d," she said.

"He's after the Book," Skulduggery said. "He needed the Scepter to kill Meritorious 348.

and Morwenna Crow, in order to dismantle the spell protecting it. He doesn't have to force anyone to do anything; all he'll have to do is ask. He's been after the Book of Names all along."

349.

Chapter Twenty-eight.

Carnage

dublin City was quiet when they reached the Waxwork Museum, as if it was holding its breath. The stars-were obscured by a veil of dark clouds, and as they left the Bentley and approached the rear entrance, the rain fell steadily. On the street beyond the museum's gates, cars splashed through puddles, and the occasional pedestrian hurried by with his head down. Skulduggery moved quickly but cautiously up to the open door, and Stephanie and Tanith followed.

Stephanie had expected to arrive in the middle of a pitched battle--she expected to hear 350.

the sounds of fighting. But the Waxworks Museum was silent. As they walked through the exhibits to the hidden door, Skulduggery slowed and eventually came to a complete stop.

"What's wrong?" Stephanie whispered.

He turned his head slowly, peering into the darkness. "I don't want to alarm anybody, but we're not alone."

That's when they came, the Hollow Men, detaching themselves from the shadows with only the faintest rasp of warning. In an instant Stephanie, Skulduggery, and Tanith were surrounded by the mindless, heartless, soulless things.

Tanith waded through them, her sword strokes deliberate and devastating, every move claiming another unlife. Skulduggery clicked his fingers and a group of Hollow Men was suddenly alight. Stephanie shrank back as they wheeled around blindly. The flames ate through their skin and ignited the putrid gas trapped inside, and with a burst of fire and heat the Hollow Men fell.

One of them avoided the flames and lunged at Stephanie. She punched it square in the face, her fist sinking into its head slightly. Its own fist swung at her and she ducked, then 351.

moved into it as she'd seen Skulduggery do. She jammed her hip into it and twisted, and the Hollow Man hit the ground. It wasn't graceful and it wasn't pretty, but it worked. While the Hollow Man was down there, she grabbed its wrist and stomped on its chest, and with a loud tear she pulled its arm off.

As the Hollow Man deflated beneath her, Stephanie realized everything had gone quiet again. She looked up at Skulduggery and Tanith, who stood watching.

"Not bad," Tanith said, an eyebrow raised.

"That's the last of them," Skulduggery said. "Now for the main event."

The hidden door to the Sanctuary hung open like a gaping wound. A dead Cleaver lay just inside. Stephanie hesitated for a moment, then stepped over the body, and they followed the steps down.

The Sanctuary's foyer had witnessed most of the carnage. It was littered with the dead. There were no wounded here, there were no dying, there were only corpses. Some had been cut to ribbons, some were unmarked, and there were places, spread across the floor, where there was only the dust of those who had fallen before the Scepter. Stephanie tried 352.

to step without touching the remains, but they were piled so deep that this was impossible.

She pa.s.sed the Administrator. His body was curled, his fingers hooked and frozen in death. His face was a mask of agony. A victim of Serpine's red right hand.

Skulduggery went to the doorway on their left and peered around, making sure the corridor was empty. Tanith pa.s.sed, pressing herself against the wall and nodding to him. He moved forward, stopped, nodded back to her; and they continued like this as they stalked deeper into the Sanctuary.

No more walking straight into danger, Stephanie thought. This was the only sign they gave that they might actually be afraid.

She followed along behind. Her palms were slick with sweat and her mouth was dry. She felt as if her legs weren't going to support her for very much longer. Her thoughts went to her parents, her loving parents. If she died here, if she died tonight, would they even notice? Her reflection would carry on with its empty masquerade, and they'd gradually begin to realize that this thing, this thing they thought was their daughter--its affections 352.

353.

weren't even real. They'd realize it all was an act, but they'd still think it was her. And they'd live out the rest of their days thinking that their own daughter didn't love them.

Stephanie didn't want to put them through that. She was going to die, she knew she was. She should turn now and run, run away. This wasn't her business. This wasn't her world. It was as Ghastly had said, the first time she'd met him: Gordon had already lost his life because of this nonsense. Was she so keen to join him?

She didn't hear the footsteps, not even when he was so close he could have reached out and stroked her hair. She didn't catch a glimpse out of the corner of her eye, and she didn't notice his shadow or see a reflection, because if he didn't want to be seen, he wouldn't be seen. But as he was moving behind her, she felt his presence: She felt the air shift slightly and brush against the skin of her hands and she didn't even have to turn her head-- she just knew.

She launched herself forward, and Skulduggery and Tanith looked back as she rolled and came up.

The White Cleaver stood there, silent as a ghost, deadly as a plague.

354.

Tanith turned to see Valkyrie coming up out of a roll, and she saw the White Cleaver standing behind her.

"Valkyrie," Tanith said, keeping her voice low and steady, "get behind me."

Stephanie moved backward, and the Cleaver attempted to stop her.

"I'll hold him off," Tanith said, not taking her eyes off her adversary. "You stop Serpine."

Tanith drew her sword, and she heard Skulduggery and Stephanie hurry away. The White Cleaver reached over his shoulder and pulled out his scythe.

Tanith stepped toward him.

"I ordered you to distract the Hollow Men, didn't I?" she said. "You were one of the Cleavers a.s.signed to us."

He didn't answer. He didn't even move.

"For what's it worth," Tanith said, "I'm sorry about what happened to you. But it was necessary. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for what is going to happen to you. But that's necessary too." He started twirling his scythe, and she raised an eyebrow. "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough."

355.

He lunged, and she blocked and sprang at him, her sword slicing through the air. He ducked back and blocked, spinning as the scythe whistled over Tanith's head. Her sword clashed with his blade and then the handle of the scythe, and his blade clashed with her sword and then the lacquered scabbard she still held in her left hand.

She ducked under his guard, staying in close, where she had the advantage, where he couldn't maneuver the scythe.

His blocks were lightning fast but he was on the defensive, and one of her strikes would get through eventually. Her sword sliced through his side and he stumbled back, out of range. Tanith looked at the blood on his white coat and gave him a smile. Then the blood started to darken, and a black stain moved over the red.

Her smile dropped, and the bleeding stopped altogether.

She backed away. There was a door behind her, and she waved it open as the Cleaver advanced.

The room she backed into was filled with cages, and in these cages, men and women stood and sat. She realized instantly where she was: the Sanctuary's jail. The people in 356.

these cages were the worst of the worst, criminals of such a sickening and grotesque order that they had to be held here, in the Sanctuary itself. The cages bound their powers while at the same time sustaining their bodies, keeping them healthy and nourished. It meant neither the Elders nor the Cleavers had to bring them food and water--these criminals had only themselves for company. And when the person in the cage next to each of them was as maniacal and as egotistical as they were, that was h.e.l.l itself.

The Cleaver pursued her steadily down the steps, sparks flying as their blades clashed.

The prisoners watched, and for the first few moments, they were confused. The Cleavers were their jailers, yet this Cleaver wore white, and they recognized something within him, something that identified him as one of them. They started to shout and cheer as Tanith was forced back, enemies all around her.

She blocked a strike and her bruised wrist gave way. The Cleaver took full advantage, his blade pa.s.sing along her belly, drawing blood. She grimaced in pain and retreated under the Cleaver's impossibly fast onslaught, barely managing to keep up her defense.

357.

The prisoners laughed and jeered, reaching through the cage bars at her, pulling at her hair, trying to scratch her. One of them snagged her coat and she spun out of it, throwing her sword and scabbard into the air as she freed her arms from the sleeves and catching them again before the Cleaver could close the gap.

He swung, and she blocked with the scabbard and flicked up with the sword, but he was twisting the scythe, deflecting the strike and returning with one of his own.

She dodged back, lost her footing, and went into a backward roll as he brought the scythe down, the point of the blade striking the ground where she had just been.

The prisoners howled with laughter as she turned and ran to the wall, the Cleaver right behind her. She jumped to the wall and kept going till she was upside down, and she crossed the ceiling, trading strikes with the Cleaver below her. He was forced to walk backward, to defend and attack over his own head.

The Cleaver slashed and missed and she saw her chance and took it. She struck his left 358.

hand with her scabbard and his fingers opened. She dropped and flipped, landing before he could recover, and s.n.a.t.c.hed the scythe from his grasp. She kicked out and he stumbled back, and she drove her sword into him.

The prisoners stopped jeering. The Cleaver took a step back.

She swung the scythe, burying the blade in his chest. He fell to his knees, black blood dripping onto the floor.

She looked down at him, felt his eyes through his visor, looking back at her. Then his weight fell onto his haunches, his shoulders sagged, and his head lolled forward.

The prisoners were muttering now, cheated out of seeing her die. Tanith gripped her sword and pulled it from the Cleaver's body, s.n.a.t.c.hed up the scabbard, and ran for the steps.

She heard a crash from elsewhere in the Sanctuary--the Repository--and urgency lent her speed. Just as she neared the top step, however, one of the prisoners laughed.