“Ah. It was a nice idea while it lasted. What’s your name?”

“Valkyrie. Valkyrie Cain.”

“You say it like that name is supposed to mean something to me.”

“I work with Skulduggery Pleasant.”

“The Skeleton Detective,” Caelan said. “Now, him I have heard about. I heard he was gone, though. Sucked into another dimension or something equally stupid.”

“He is. I’m going to get him back.”

There was a moment’s silence. “And you’re doing a wonderful job of that.”

She glared at the darkness. “So what about you? What are you doing here?”

“Right now? Right now I’m on hunger strike.”

“Since when?”

“Since this morning. It’s going pretty well so far, but I always falter around dinnertime…”

“What are you striking about?” asked Valkyrie.

“I don’t want to play their game any more. Have you seen the arena? The pit?”

“Yes.”

“Every Friday night,” said Caelan, “we’re taken to the pit and we’re made to fight each other.”

“We?”

“The others like me, in the other cells.”

“Vampire pit fights?”

“Not just vampires. All sorts of creatures. It draws a crowd. Of course, I’m not allowed to change fully. The beast I’d become would rip apart anything it faced, and where’s the fun in that? So they give me a half-dose of serum to trap me halfway through the change. For the sport. If I win, I’m taken back here and before my next fight I’m thrown a morsel to keep my strength up. You are said morsel. If I lose, I’m dead. Real dead, not just vampire dead.”

“So you’re not drinking my blood because…?”

“They want me strong when they put me into the pit. That’s the only way the crowd will be satisfied. Who wants to pay to see a starving vampire flail at a zombie or a bridge troll? If I don’t eat, they won’t put me in the pit. I’ve been here three months, and I’m not going to do it any more.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Valkyrie.

“You really don’t want to be talking me out of this, you know. I’ve been draining every person they throw in here. You’re lucky today’s the day I’ve changed my mind.”

“Who are they? The men who do this?”

“You mean are they sorcerers?” asked Caelan. “They are not. They’re mortals who know more than they should. Those shackles binding your power are just one of the things they’ve picked up over the years. Everything they have is scavenged. The big one’s Bruno. I don’t know the name of the smaller one.