Wreath didn’t speak for a moment. “Craven, I’m going to be very nice to you, and not break your jaw for what you just said to me. I’m just going to forget you ever said it, and backtrack a little. You think we should strike at our enemies, do you? With what, exactly? We have just over thirty Necromancers, and practically none of them have combat experience. And even if they did, who should we strike against, do you think? The Sanctuary? Its agents? Pleasant and Cain, maybe? Or how about Lord Vile? Should we strike against him?”

Craven turned. “You mock me, Cleric Wreath.”

“Oh I do, Cleric Craven, for you are easily mocked. You have no idea what it is you’re saying at any given moment, do you? You think just as long as you’re issuing orders, you’re a leader. Well, here’s a newsflash for you, sunshine. That’s not how it works.”

“You are most insolent.”

“You’re not the High Priest, Vandameer. If our enemies are closing in, then this would appear to be the perfect time for Melancholia to initiate the Passage. If she proves unable to carry out her duties, she must be put down.”

“Those are dangerous words you speak.”

“Well then,” Wreath said, “it’s a good thing you’re not in charge, or I’d really be in trouble, wouldn’t I?”

He walked away, robbing Craven of the chance to do that himself. Craven stayed where he was, at a dirty window he could barely see out of, and seethed with anger.

Chapter 34 - Valkyrie and Fletcher

Chapter 34
Valkyrie and Fletcher

orning came, and Valkyrie woke. She pulled on a dressing gown and went downstairs. She left her phone by her bed. She didn’t want anyone calling her. Her mum was eating breakfast. Alice lay in her basket on the table.

“How are you feeling?” Valkyrie asked.

Her mum smiled. “I’m fine. You can all stop worrying about me. I had to literally push your father out the door a few minutes ago. He can be really sweet when he wants to be.” The smile faded. “What happened to you?”

Valkyrie blinked at her. “Sorry?”

“Is that a bruise?”

Valkyrie ducked back into the hall and checked herself in the mirror. A nice round bruise had appeared where her forehead had met Moore’s face. She glared at herself, then returned to the kitchen. “I banged my head last night,” she said.

“How?”

Valkyrie shrugged. “Just one of those things. Woke up suddenly, turned the wrong way, banged my head on the wall.”

“Nightmare?”

“Can’t remember. How did you sleep?”