LITMIR.BIZ

      he common room was empty except for Valkyrie and Skulduggery, who were sitting at the round table. Most of the hotel’s guests were gone for the day, leaving the place quiet. That changed when Sanguine came downstairs, whistling a tune. He saw them, waved and came over.

      “May I?” he asked, indicating one of the empty chairs. When they didn’t object, he sat. Valkyrie saw her darkened reflection in his sunglasses.

      “Well, now that we’re sittin’ here,” he said with a flash of white teeth, “I can’t think of anythin’ interestin’ to say.”

      “How about you tell us where you’re keeping Kenspeckle Grouse and Tanith Low?” Skulduggery suggested. “And then where exactly you plan to detonate the Desolation Engine, assuming you manage to get it repaired? After that, we can go wherever the conversation takes us.”

      “And if I don’t? Will you beat it out of me?”

      “With pleasure.”

      “The proprietor will not stand for violence in his hotel,” Sanguine reminded them happily. “I checked with him and he is a stickler about this. If you go after me, he’ll go after you. Ain’t that great? Ain’t that just the greatest rule you ever heard?”

      “I’m sure my friend will make an exception in this case,” Skulduggery said.

      “Maybe. Maybe not.”

      “Where’s Tanith?” Valkyrie asked.

      “She’s safe,” Sanguine answered. “Relatively unharmed – though I feel I must state for the record, I voted to have her killed immediately. Good thing for her our little Revengers’ Club is a democracy. By the people, for the people.”

      “That’s what you’re calling yourselves?” Skulduggery asked. “The Revengers’ Club?”

      “It has a ring to it, don’t you think? It’s not as sinister as the Diablerie, but heck, we don’t want to bring back gods or destroy the world. We just want a little payback.”

      Valkyrie sat forward. “What do you want? Scarab is doing this because he thinks he was framed. Crux is doing this because he’s insane. Dusk is holding a grudge against me because of his scar. Why are you doing this?”

      Sanguine inspected his fingernails. “I got my reasons.”

      “Oh,” Skulduggery murmured. “Of course.”

      Valkyrie looked at him, but his attention was focused on Sanguine.

      “A few weeks ago, you burrowed in and out of the Necromancer Temple,” he said, “but later, when you broke Dusk out of prison, you only burrowed in. You had to fight your way out. You could have snatched Professor Grouse without a fuss, but you didn’t. You bundled him into a car and you drove. What’s wrong with you, Billy-Ray?”

      Sanguine grinned. “You can’t expect me to reveal all my secrets before the—”

      “You’re hurt,” Skulduggery interrupted and Sanguine’s jaw clenched. “My guess is the wound Valkyrie inflicted on you at Aranmore Farm last year is causing you more trouble than you’d anticipated. You hurt yourself when you stole the Soul Catcher, didn’t you? Maybe you tore something up inside. Is that what happened? You tried breaking Dusk out quietly, but you just couldn’t face using your power for the return journey. That’s why you’re looking for revenge – because Valkyrie stole your magic from you.”

      Sanguine lunged at Valkyrie, but Skulduggery caught his wrist and kicked the chair from under him. Sanguine went sprawling and Shudder walked into the room.

      “Is everything all right here?” he asked in his quiet voice.

      “Billy-Ray fell off his chair,” Skulduggery said. “Billy-Ray, are you OK down there?”

      Sanguine stood, his face tight. He brought his chair back to the table. “I’m good,” he said. “Just clumsy, is all.”

      Shudder looked at them all for a moment then came forward and sat. “You may continue your conversation,” he said.

      Sanguine turned sideways in his chair, resting one elbow on the table. “Is there a rule against threats?” he asked.

      “No,” said Shudder.

      “There a rule against the promise of a violent death?”

      “There is not.”

      “Well, OK then.” Sanguine’s eyeless gaze fell upon Valkyrie. “I’m goin’ to kill you. You cut me right across the belly with that damned sword, an’ I couldn’t go to no big-shot professor to get stitched up. I had to go to some back-alley moron who talked the talk, but when it came to walkin’ the walk, he barely got faster than a shuffle. I’m fairly certain he made things worse. He said give it a few weeks to heal and I gave it a month, but when I went burrowin’, it was like my guts were on fire and the smoke was collectin’ in my lungs. Now, I can’t go back and demand he fix me up on account of the fact that he’s already dead, an’ so the only person I have left to blame is the little brat who cut me in the first place.”

      “It was self-defence,” Valkyrie said.

      “That ain’t no excuse. Fact is that makes it worse. If you’d just let me kill you when I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be in this situation. This whole thing is your fault.”

      “Your logic is impeccable,” Skulduggery said. “Then what about Springheeled

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