“Please?” said Ravel. Another glare, and Ravel straightened up. “Right, well. You are of no use to us whatsoever, are you? I don’t even see why you went to the trouble of being captured, I really don’t. What’s the point of being a prisoner if you’re not going to divulge secret plans to your captors?”

“Defeats the purpose,” Vex grumbled.

“It does indeed, Dexter,” Ravel said. “What do you have to say for yourself? Are you suitably ashamed? You should be. If I were you, I’d have a good long think about what a disappointment you’ve been to us. We had high hopes.”

“The highest.”

“That’s right, Saracen, the highest. See? You’ve upset Saracen.”

“I just have something in my eye,” said Rue.

“I have never seen Saracen Rue weep,” Ravel said, “since this morning, but you’ve made him weep like a little child. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

Noche looked at them warily. “You are all insane.”

Anton Shudder walked forward. “Tell us where Serpine is going. I don’t play games like my friends. They’re saying all this to confuse you and frighten you. I prefer to simply ask, and I expect a simple answer.”

“I would rather die,” said Noche, a touch less convincingly.

“Do you know my chosen discipline, little man?”

“You’re a… You have a gist.”

“That’s right. And when I let it out there are times when I just cannot control it. And it’s a sight to behold. Terrifying. Ferocious. Merciless. Tell us what we want to know or I shall release it, and believe you me you will garner its full attention.”

Noche swallowed like he’d something sharp stuck in his craw. “Serpine… he mentioned Lancaster County, in Nebraska, as somewhere he’d be safe. Sounded like that’s where he’s headed.”

Rue peered at him. “Are you lying?”

“No.”

“I don’t trust him.”

Ravel nodded. “I don’t trust him, either.”

“I trust him,” said Vex happily. “And I’ve changed my mind about his eyebrows, too. Skulduggery, can we keep him?”

Pleasant tilted his head at the Necromancer. “You’re lying.”

“No, I—”

Pleasant splayed his hand and Noche flew off the ground, hit the wall, his feet kicking at air.

The Dead Men fell silent, lost their smiles and looks of good humour.

“My friend Anton will kill you,” said Pleasant, “but I will kill you worse. Why are you with Serpine?”

“Please, I…”

“You have one chance. If you lie to me, I will start killing you.”

Something changed in Noche’s eyes, something dripped away. His melting resolve, most likely.

“He’s heading for the Temple,” he said. “I was to meet him, take him back to it.”

“The Necromancers are going to hide him?”

“Y-yes. I don’t know why. He has an… an agreement, of sorts. Made long ago.”