Fawkes chuckled at the word, and the guests laughed along with him. Gordon didn’t know what the hell he was talking about any more.

“But all that is still to be revealed,” said Fawkes. “For now, eat, drink, talk, laugh… be merry. And give me a hip hip hooray for horror. Hip hip…”

“Hooray!”

They did that three times in all, and Gordon could only blink at the sudden shift in tone.

Fawkes gave a wave, everyone clapped, and the lights came back on. A few moments later, Fawkes made his entrance into the ballroom and the string quartet started up again.

Skulduggery looked at Gordon. “The man’s an idiot.”

Gordon nodded. “He does seem to be idiotic.”

“I never liked his books. Maybe he’s improved with age, but his early work is derivative with definite signs of pretention. And look, he’s coming this way. This will be a wonderful opportunity for me to make like the character I’ve come as, and disappear.”

Skulduggery moved backwards into the crowd, and by the time Gordon shifted his position to look around, he was gone.

The mask was ridiculous. He seized it with both hands, squeezed and pulled, and only managed to shift the eyeholes around to his ear. Now he couldn’t see anything.

“Help,” he said. He reached out and heard a crash. Another tray of drinks bites the dust. He stepped back, bumped into someone, heard the unmistakable intake of breath that accompanies a well-dressed lady spilling wine down the front of her dress. “Terribly sorry,” Gordon said, spinning quickly, hitting someone else and getting a muffled curse in response.

Suddenly there was a steadying grip on his arms, and he heard Susan DeWick say, “Hold on there, Fishface. You’re leaving a trail of destruction in your wake.”

“My head’s on sideways,” he explained.

“I can see that. Want me to take it off?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” said Gordon. “Thank you.”

He felt her hands take hold of the mask. She twisted and pulled and fiddled, and just when Gordon’s claustrophobia was closing in on him, she yanked the Creature’s head off. Air rushed in, cooling the sweat on his forehead, and he gasped, laughed and ignored the glares he was getting from the people around him.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said, and Susan laughed and handed him back the mask.

“I couldn’t watch you flail about any longer,” she said. “It was funny, sure, but also kind of sad and pathetic.”

“Sad and pathetic are two of my most charming traits.”

Susan smiled, a wicked look in her eye, but her response was curtailed by the arrival of Sebastian Fawkes.

“Susan,” Fawkes said, kissing her hand, “it is so good to see you again. I’m sure it’s been said already tonight by men more charming than I, but you look simply ravishing. Tippi Hedren, yes?”