“I heard. This must be Valkyrie Cain then.”

Valkyrie smiled and held out her hand. Myron turned away.

“Come on in,” he said.

Valkyrie took an instant dislike to the man. They followed him into the kitchen. The table was a mass of pizza boxes and wine bottles, and dishes were piled up in the sink. Substances that may once have been food had long since dried and hardened to the plates, and each and every cup Valkyrie saw had fuzzy mould creeping over the brim. The air was stale, and flies tapped and buzzed against the grimy windows.

“I like what you’ve done to the place,” Skulduggery said eventually.

Myron took a can of beer from the fridge and cracked it open. “I always wanted someone to come up with a Mary Poppins trick, didn’t you? You know, just click your fingers and dishes wash themselves and the floor mops itself and all that stuff? It’d save me a bundle on housekeeping.”

Valkyrie frowned. “You have a housekeeper?”

“I was making a joke. This one’s not too smart is she, Skulduggery?”

All pretence at being civil left Valkyrie’s face, to be replaced by open and obvious hostility.

“Not like your last partner,” Myron continued, sitting at the table, “the one who died. How did he die again? I can’t quite remember.”

“Horribly,” Skulduggery said.

“He died screaming your name, didn’t he? Now here’s where things get a little fuzzy. When he was screaming your name, was he calling for help, or was he cursing you?”

“A little bit of both I would imagine. Myron, I don’t appreciate you insulting my partner. I would have leaped to her defence, but Valkyrie is more than capable of fighting her own battles. Valkyrie? You can respond however you wish.”

“Thank you,” Valkyrie said, smiling thinly. “In that case, we came here to ask you a few questions, Myron, and that’s what we’re going to do. You don’t mind if I call you Myron, do you?” He opened his mouth to utter a lazy reply, but she cut him off. “Thank you. I didn’t think you would. We need to know anything you’ve heard concerning Dreylan Scarab and any possible base of operations.”

Myron looked at her for a long time. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“And I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist. I could continue calling you Myron, you see, or I could switch to your other name. What was it again? The name that makes you do anything you’re told?”

Myron’s eyes turned hard and he looked at Skulduggery. “You promised me you would never use my true name against me.”

“Yes, I did,” Skulduggery said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “And I won’t. Unfortunately, you were rude to my partner and friend, and she made you no such promise.”