“But he ignored your commands. He, it, whatever, ignored you. He doesn’t need you. He’s become a… a being, a person.”

“Completely independent,” Skulduggery said. “An individual. I’d be proud, if I wasn’t so disturbed. Does this mean I don’t have a subconscious any more? If my subconscious is up and walking around and calling itself Lord Vile, then what do I have left?”

“Skulduggery, now you need to focus.”

“Yes. Of course. Besides, that’s more of a conversation to have with Gordon. Conversations I have with you, Valkyrie, revolve around finding solutions and saving the day.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” she said as she turned off the water. She got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. “So how do we stop Vile?”

She opened the bathroom door and Skulduggery tilted his head at her. “Very simple,” he said. “We don’t.”

Valkyrie frowned. “That is very simple. In fact, it’s a little too simple.” She walked back to her room.

“The Sanctuary is going to say the same thing,” he said, following behind. “Vile is after Melancholia, so we should leave him alone, see how far he gets. He might get lucky.”

“He might kill her.”

“That’s what I mean.”

Valkyrie got back inside her room, turned and held up a hand to stop Skulduggery from coming in after her.

“Ah,” he said, and nodded as she closed the door.

“Skulduggery, it’s Melancholia. I know I hate her, and I know she tried to kill me, and I’m well aware that she plans to kill billions of people, but we can’t just let her die.”

There was a pause before Skulduggery responded. “I have to admit,” he said, “I did not think that sentence was going to end where it ended.”

“I’m just sick of everyone killing everyone else. When I heard that Mum had been hurt, I went to Moore’s cell with the intention of killing him. I wanted to actually kill him. I don’t like that. I don’t like that I wanted that. There’s too much killing, I think.” Valkyrie scrubbed herself half dry, then had a better idea and straightened up, went back to the door and opened it. “Hat in front of your eyes,” she said. “No peeking.”

He did as he was told and raised his free hand. She held the towel away from her as the moisture drifted from her body.

“You should be able to do this yourself by now,” Skulduggery said from behind his hat.

“I can do it,” she said. “But I always leave my skin too dry.” She stepped back inside her room and closed the door again, then she went to the mirror and tapped the glass. Her reflection blinked, and stepped out.