"There's no need for friends to ever be jealous," she told him.

He clasped her hand in his. "And what of those who could be more than friends?"

"My darling Quintin," China said, "you will always be very special to me. A very special friend, with a very special wife. Where is she, by the way?"

Strom shrugged. "Somewhere over there. We have an understanding."

"That must be wonderful for you both," China said, realising she'd lost sight of Scorn. Her phone rang, and she disentangled herself from Strom's hand. "Excuse me for just a moment."

"It's me," Gallow said when she answered. "I have her list. Twelve people, most of whom should be with you right now."

China smiled tightly at Strom and walked away from him, speaking quietly. "Where are you?"

"Parked in the woods to the north-east of the house. I can't get any nearer without setting off the alarms."

"Stay there," China ordered. "I'll be with you in a few minutes."

She paused to check around her, making sure Scorn wasn't anywhere about. Then she slipped by the Rippers at the door and walked quickly between the rows of cars, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. Her shoes, magnificently elegant though they were, had not been designed for walking across gravel, and were totally unsuited to walking across gra.s.s or, indeed, through woodland. But China had grace, and poise, and where a lesser woman would already have toppled, China remained upright. The real trick, of course, was to make it look effortless, even when there was no one around to appreciate it.

She cracked twigs and speared leaves with virtually every step, and there were certain kinds of branches that only wanted to snag her dress as she pa.s.sed. She stepped from the treeline into a clearing. Gallow's car sat quiet and dark, and China was already scowling as she approached. She banged her fist on the pa.s.senger side window. She doubted it would give Gallow a scare, but she had to at least make the effort after walking all this way. She opened the door and stooped to get in, froze when she realised Gallow wasn't moving. She took a breath, bent lower. Gallow's chin was resting on his chest. The upper half of his head was sitting on his lap.

There was a note on the dashboard, illuminated by a strip of moonlight. Too late, sweetie.

China stayed where she was. If anyone was sneaking up behind her, they weren't making a sound. If anyone was watching from the trees, they weren't making a move. She straightened up slowly. If this was a trap, then she was already at a disadvantage, and she wasn't going to make things any better by losing her composure.

Her heart was beating so fast and so loud she swore it was audible. Resisting the urge to spin round, she smoothed down her dress and turned. No one jumped out at her. Back through the trees, back the way she had come, she could see the lights of the house. A house filled with sorcerers who didn't exactly trust her, perhaps, but it was still a refuge. Skulduggery and Valkyrie were there, and Ghastly and Ravel. She would be safe there. At least she'd be able to see who was going to attack.

But if the roles had been reversed and it had been China who had planned this trap, then she would be lying in wait somewhere along that trail. Lure the prey in, scare the prey, and attack when the prey tries to run to safety. An ambush as simple as it was effective. Her options were clear. Take the quickest route out of the woods and probably run right into the attack, or turn and go the other way. Deeper into the woods.

Neither option appealed to her, but as much as she despised the idea of walking for an hour in these shoes to get away from an attacker who may not even be there, she despised the idea of having her head cut off even more.

So she quelled her pride, turned, and stalked away through the trees.

Chapter 51.

Flirting Disastrously

eople were dancing and chatting, talking business and politics and history, drinking wine and champagne and toasting fallen comrades. The house had been transformed from the quiet, safe place that Valkyrie came to when she needed respite to a glamorous ballroom of extravagance. As much as she appreciated the change, there was a part of her that couldn't wait for the people to clear out and normality to return.

She waited until Gordon's latest audience had moved away, and then she approached him before anyone else had a chance. "Enjoying yourself ?" she asked.

"Immensely," Gordon said, beaming when he saw her. "I'd never met most of these people when I was alive, but I'd heard about them. I'd heard all the stories, all the legends. Some of these people, quite literally, saved the world."

"Pretty impressive."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Don't be sarcastic."

"I'm not," she laughed.

"For someone like you, who actually has saved the world, such a feat might lose some of its romance. But for me, a dead writer who just wrote about these things? It is still quite remarkable."

"And humbling?"

"Well, maybe not humbling. I'd like to see any of these people write a best-selling novel. Then I'd be impressed."

"Are you getting any ideas for more books?"

"My head is filled with ideas. If I weren't hosting this shindig, I'd be composing words right this second. I swear, I haven't talked to this many fascinating people since I made a surprise appearance at my fan club meeting. Do you think they're enjoying it? Is there enough wine?"

"There's plenty of wine, and those little canopies are lovely."

"Canapes, my dear."

"They're a bit small, though."

"They're meant to be small."

"They'd be more satisfying if they were bigger."

"I think you're slightly missing the point of canapes."

"But all in all, yeah, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves."

"I thought I'd find you here," Skulduggery said, walking over. "I a.s.sume your detective instincts kicked in and you were going to ask your uncle about those men with the guns...?"

"Of course," Valkyrie nodded. "Gordon. The morons in the masks. How did they get in?"

"Ah," Gordon said, his face clouding, "now that I do not know. As you can imagine, there aren't many catering companies who specialise in events like this, but I was a.s.sured every person working tonight was discreet and had experience. I've had someone trying to get through to the planner, but no luck so far."

Valkyrie shrugged at Skulduggery. "I have been unable to find a clue."

"You're a wonderful detective," he sighed. "Are you ready for Round Two? There are still plenty of people who want to meet you."

"There's more?" she whined. "But my face is tired from smiling."

"I never said you had to smile. I never smile."

"You're a skeleton. You're always smiling."

"Not inside. Inside it's a scowl. I think there are also one or two young men who would like to ask you to dance. And now that you're not with Fletcher any more..."

She narrowed her eyes. "What young men?"

"You were talking to both of them a few minutes ago. Hidalgo Bolt and Geraint Mizzle."

"Really? Hidalgo? He's kind of cute, I suppose. And when you say young men... what ages are they?"

"Hidalgo is, I don't know... He might be in his fifties."

She stepped back. "Oh gross!"

Skulduggery's head tilted. "Charming. Geraint's younger, if that's any use to you. He's in his twenties."

"That the lanky guy with the frizzy hair? He didn't exactly come across as overly confident, did he? Or co-ordinated. How'd he get an invitation?"

"He didn't. His mother brought him. She wants me to help set you up with him."

Valkyrie glared. "Don't you dare."

"I happen to think that you'd get on very well with Geraint. I doubt he'd speak much, which would suit you down to the ground because then you can just talk without fear of interruption."

"Oh, I'm not denying that, on paper, he sounds like my perfect man, but there is no way in h.e.l.l that's going to happen. Tell his mummy no."

"She'll be heartbroken."

"I don't care."

"She had such high hopes for you two."

"Stop joking about this, I swear to G.o.d."

"Gordon, what do you think? You think she should at least dance with Geraint?"

"What harm could it do?" Gordon asked.

"Great harm," Valkyrie said. "Huge harm. Let's face it, if he dances with me when I'm wearing this dress and looking like this, he's going to fall in love with me."

Gordon laughed, and clapped his hands. "Yes, he is, my dear."

"I don't mean to be c.o.c.ky," she said, "but it's inevitable, right?"

Skulduggery nodded. "Can't argue with you there."

"And the fact is, I don't need another guy telling me how great I am. I know how great I am. I'm me. And, to be honest, I'm finding it fairly weird that you're suggesting this so casually when the guy is, like, ten years older than I am. Aren't you supposed to be advising me against older men?"

"This is very true," Gordon said. "And you're absolutely right. This Geraint is far too old. You're to stay away from that boy."

Valkyrie frowned. "And now suddenly he seems so much hotter."

"Typical teenage girl," Skulduggery said, "wanting what she can't have."

"So now you're saying I can't have him? My G.o.d, Geraint Mizzle is the hottest guy I've ever known."

Skulduggery swept his hand towards the crowd. "Then go to him. Dance and fall in love."

"Ah," she said, shrugging, "maybe later."

Hansard Kray came over, nodding to all of them. Valkyrie found herself standing a little straighter. "Pardon the interruption," he said.

"Not at all," Gordon replied, grinning. "Having a good night, are we? Do you like the music? It's certainly music made to be danced to, isn't it?"

Valkyrie glared at Gordon, but he ignored her.

"It is," Hansard said, "and the night has been wonderful, thank you very much for inviting us. I was wondering, though, if any of you had seen my father."

Gordon looked more disappointed than Valkyrie actually felt. "Oh," he said. "No, I'm sorry, I haven't."

"He's had too much to drink," Hansard said, blushing slightly. "I'm afraid he might be wandering the house, insulting anyone he meets." He looked at Valkyrie. "I do apologise for the things he said. Please know that if you had hit him, I would have understood."

She smiled. "That's good to know. I could help you look for him, if you want."

"You would?" he said, relieved. "Oh, thank you very much. If you could search those rooms over there, I'll search these rooms over here, and between us we should find him."

He smiled again, and hurried off. Valkyrie frowned.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Skulduggery said. "A boy who can resist the charms of Valkyrie Cain."

"Shut up," she growled, walking off. He followed.

"He's seventeen, you know," he said. "From what I can gather, a thoroughly nice lad."

"I don't care."

"I don't know much about him, not really. His family keeps to themselves."

"That's nice." They walked from room to room.

"From what little I do know, however, he does like girls, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not worried about it. Why should I be worried about it? I don't even care. I don't even know the guy. Why are you so intent on setting me up with someone all of a sudden? Haven't I made enough of a mess of this kind of thing already?"

"You have," Skulduggery conceded. "But everyone needs a hobby."

They moved towards raised voices, sliding through the gathered onlookers to see Arthur Dagan pinned to the ground by a small man with gla.s.ses.

"Caste," Skulduggery said, "let him up."