Kingdom of the Wicked

“No problem!” Sult repeated, almost spluttering the words as he laughed. “No problem, she says! Defeating Serpine and Vengeous and the Diablerie, defeating gods, recapturing the Remnants …! No problem to Valkyrie Cain, maybe, but for the rest of us, it would have been a great big problem indeed!”

He laughed again, had to wipe his eyes he was laughing so hard. Valkyrie glanced at Skulduggery and he shrugged.

“You’re here with the Supreme Council, then,” Skulduggery said, walking on. Sult kept up with them. “We met one of your friends back there. He didn’t want to let us by.”

Sult looked horrified. “He tried to stop you?”

“He definitely tried. You might want to check on him when you have a spare minute.”

“Well,” said Sult, “I must apologise most profusely if he offended you in any way. Some of our people, they’re so eager to make a good impression that, well, sometimes they’re a little too stringent with the rules.”

“And what rules would they be, Bernard? As far as I’m aware, you and your associates have no duties whatsoever in this Sanctuary.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Sult said, nodding. “But we were just talking with your Cleaver commander about lending a hand if a hand was needed, all in a very unofficial capacity, you understand. Could I ask, was the gentleman who interrupted you from the English Sanctuary?”

“Indeed he was. A Mr Grim.”

“Ah, the bodyguard. That explains it. We had different briefings. I can assure you that such a misunderstanding will not happen again. You have my word. It’s all very embarrassing.”

Now that Sult was focusing on Skulduggery, Valkyrie gave him a quick once-over. Looked to be in his thirties. Dark hair, cut short and neat. Nice suit, tasteful tie. Shiny shoes. Gold wedding ring. Apart from that, there was nothing distinctive about him at all.

“Do you work closely with Bisahalani?” Skulduggery asked.

“With Grand Mage Bisahalani, indeed I do,” Sult said, nodding again. “Well, I say closely, but really I’m just one of his many aides. Still, I’m honoured that he chose me to represent him here.”

“I would say so. The Supreme Council and all that. It all sounds so very important.”

Sult laughed again. “It does, doesn’t it? To be honest, I wish they’d have chosen a less grand name but, well … what sorcerer doesn’t love a grand name, eh?”

“Very true,” chuckled Skulduggery. “I suppose that’s one crime we’re all guilty of. At least the Supreme Council is upfront about its intentions. It’d be so much worse to be stabbed in the back by something called the Nice and Friendly Council, wouldn’t it?”

“Stabbed in the back?” Sult laughed. “I’m afraid I don’t get it.”

Skulduggery and Valkyrie stopped walking. “Oh, come now, Bernard. The Supreme Council want nothing more than an excuse to come in here and take over, isn’t that right? What are they looking for? What excuse do they need before they’ll be happy?”

Sult’s smile wavered. “I … I don’t know what you—”

“A huge admirer, are you?” Skulduggery said, talking over him. “Is that why your mouth keeps turning down in contempt? Is that why you practically sneered when you said Valkyrie’s name?”

Sult stepped back. “I assure you, you’re mistaken. I’m—”

“Just because I don’t have a face to call my own does not mean I can’t read other people’s,” said Skulduggery. “You don’t like us, Bernard. In fact, you hate us. You despise us. You’re here to take this Sanctuary down. And as for this administrator thing, this unimportant aide to Grand Mage Bisahalani story, well, I think we can both agree that that’s not entirely true, can’t we? Who are you? You’re not one of his detectives – I’d know you. You don’t step into the light much. You prefer working in the shadows. Is that who you are, Bernard? Bisahalani’s invisible enforcer?”

Sult smiled, and for the first time Valkyrie believed the smile was genuine. Cold, unfriendly, but genuine.

“We’re not here to take over,” Sult said. “We’re just here to help. And I don’t dislike you, Detective. You’ve saved the world. Both of you have. The problem is, you’ve mainly saved the world from your own mistakes. Time and again, this Sanctuary and its Council of Elders have endangered the lives of the people it is supposed to protect. And in doing so, it endangers the lives of everyone else on the planet. And speaking for everyone else on the planet, that isn’t exactly fair.”

“And yet,” Skulduggery said, “by interfering, you’re breaking the international Sanctuary code. What’s next? We don’t solve the latest crisis in six days, and you take the decision out of our hands entirely? Purely for our own good, of course.”

“If we have to,” Sult said. “And it’s five days.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Skulduggery. He went to move off but Sult put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t act like we’re the villains,” he said. “We have been forced to step in because this Sanctuary is incapable of handling its own affairs. This isn’t our doing. It’s yours. And you know it.”

Skulduggery didn’t say anything, he just waited until Sult removed his hand, and then he walked away.

He gave Valkyrie an armful of files and told her to go through them while he went off to find Ghastly. She wanted to be there as they discussed what had just transpired, but reluctantly accepted that she’d probably be able to offer very little insight into what their next move might be. So she found an empty room and settled down and started reading.

It took twenty minutes before she threw the first file back on to the desk in disgust. Nothing was going in. She’d read the words and seen the words but there was a room full of blood and a middle-aged woman with a poisoned ring to keep the words from sinking in. And if that wasn’t enough, there was also the man who’d tried to stop them coming down here and there was Sult, impossibly smug Sult and his stupid face. And her arm still throbbed. She didn’t know what Nadir had done to her, but whatever it was, it was irritating.

She put her feet on the desk, pushed the chair back on to two legs and stared up at the ceiling. She thought about poor Ed Stynes the werewolf man and poor Jerry Houlihan the butterfly man, and how they were both downstairs, sedated, being poked and prodded by the Sanctuary medical staff. How many were down there now? Forty-three? Forty-three mortals lying in beds, bubbling over with magic they didn’t understand and couldn’t control. Sooner or later, one of these outbreaks was going to take place right in the public eye where there’d be no denying what had happened, and then what? Then everything would change.