The beam fell upon a boy around her age, maybe a bit older. He languished with his back to the corner, one long leg stretched out straight along the floor, the other pulled in. His boots were scuffed and his jeans dirty and torn. His torso was bare, the light flowing over the lean muscles of his arms. But it was his face that caught her attention – black hair falling to his brow, and a smile so wicked and cheekbones so sharp. He had one hand up, shading his eyes.

“I won’t even tell anyone about it,” he continued. “Your dignity is safe with me, I swear.”

She let the torch beam drift down to his torso again, and allowed herself a moment to marvel at the way the light caught his abdomen.

“Excuse me?” he said. “I’m starting to feel just a little bit objectified here.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she retorted, but still the beam lingered. “You’re kind of good-looking, in your own way, but you’re really not my type.”

She was, of course, lying.

She swept the beam to his outstretched leg, to the shackle that was attached to the heavy chain. She scanned the walls, looking for cameras or windows, but there were none.

She pointed the torch at one of the free corners. “I’m going to go here.”

“I’m not looking.”

Valkyrie went to the corner and kept the torch on him, to blind him if he did look. But it appeared that he was going to keep his word. His face was turned away and his eyes were closed.

She hesitated, then undid her jeans and hunkered down.

“Talk,” she ordered.

“What?”

“Talk to me, but do it loudly. I don’t want you to hear me.”

That smile again, playing with the corners of his mouth. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t care.”

“Very well. Your friend, the skeleton. How do you plan on rescuing him from this other dimension?”

“It’s a long story,” said Valkyrie. “It’s complicated. I’m almost there, though. I just have one more thing I need to get and that’s it.”

“And what is this one more thing?”

“The Murder Skull.”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with it.”

“You don’t have to be. I’ve been trying to find it for ages now, trying to find out who has it. That’s what got me in trouble, actually. The guy who has it is a man called Chabon. In my efforts to get in touch with him, I’ve been mixing with a bad crowd.”

“What a nice way of putting it.”

“Thank you. The bad crowd led me to the big guy… What did you say his name was?”

“Bruno.”