“You’re cured.”

“Does that mean you’ll stop referring to me as a victim?”

He sighed. “Sometimes my bedside manner leaves something to be desired. I don’t mean to lecture you all the time.”

“I don’t mind it.”

“But I just wish you’d be more careful.”

“So do I.”

“And how is the headache?”

“Almost gone. I don’t know what’s causing them. Maybe my brain is leaking.”

“For a brain to leak, you would first need a brain.” Kenspeckle smiled, and his smile wavered. “I think Tanith Low is scared of me.”

“Tanith’s not scared of anyone.”

“Fear and hatred are easily confused.”

“Just give her time. She knows it wasn’t you who hurt her. How are you doing though?”

“I’m fine. A nightmare or two, but that’s to be expected. It’s a blessing actually, the fact that I can’t remember a thing that happened. I think that would be too much for me to handle. I never wanted to hurt anyone else ever again.”

“You didn’t hurt Tanith,” Valkyrie said as firmly as she could. “The Remnant did. You’re you now, the Kenspeckle who lectures me while he heals me. He’s the only one that’s real.”

“You are wise beyond your years.”

“I’ve always thought so.”

Kenspeckle kept her confined to bed for two days. Tanith was transferred to the bed next to her. Skulduggery called by a lot and Ghastly visited on the second day. Fletcher was always around and China, true to her word, didn’t put in an appearance.

By the time she was leaving, Valkyrie’s wounds were healed and the scars were fading. Marr called to tell them that Thurid Guild had requested that Skulduggery and Valkyrie be the ones to transport him from the Sanctuary’s holding cell to the prison. Skulduggery had agreed, more out of curiosity than anything else, and he picked Valkyrie up on the street outside Kenspeckle’s building.

“We’re early,” she said as she buckled her seatbelt.

“I doubt Guild will care too much,” Skulduggery responded, his sunglasses in place over his scarf and his hat pulled low. “He’s looking at close to 300 years for his part in the Vanguard assassination and the cover-up. I don’t think ten minutes is going to make that much of a difference to him, to be honest.”

“Why do you think he asked for us anyway? Surely there are friendlier faces to see him off?”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you? Maybe he wants to thank you again for saving his family. Or maybe he has something to tell us.”

“A secret?”

“Confidential information perhaps. He is Grand Mage, after all.”

“Was.”

“Oh,” Skulduggery said. “Yes.”