“Do you think he can do it?” Valkyrie said, running a brush through her hair. “Do you think he has a chance?”

“I don’t know. From what we’ve seen, her power ebbs and flows. If he manages to catch her when she’s at her weakest, yes, he will kill her in an instant. But if he gets to her when she’s strong…”

“And we have the same problem, which means we have to arrest her when she’s ebbing, not flowing. How do we do that?”

“First, we have to find out where they’re hiding her.”

Valkyrie put the brush down, went to the door and opened it. “Can I ask you a question? And I don’t mean this in a bad way, but are you insane?”

Skulduggery looked at her. “Would it make any difference if I was?”

“Probably not.”

“Then why put labels on ourselves? That’s a job for a psychiatrist. We punch people, Valkyrie. That’s who we are. Embrace your inner lunatic. Fun times guaranteed.”

She smiled. “You’re a bad influence.”

“I never claimed otherwise. Your reflection is still naked, by the way.”

Valkyrie shrieked, shoved him back and slammed her bedroom door closed.

Chapter 39 - Killing Craven

Chapter 39
Killing Craven

reath never had a problem with killing people, but he always preferred it when he had right on his side, when they deserved it, and when he was sure he could get away with it. Today he planned to kill Craven, and while he was sure that right was on his side and that Craven thoroughly deserved what was coming to him, he wasn’t overly confident he could get away with it. Still, he figured, sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, and then sometimes you’ve just got to run like hell after it’s done.

Getting Craven alone was proving to be a problem, however. He had everyone convinced that he had all the answers, so now they flocked around him like he was the High Priest. It was a most disheartening sight. Necromancers were feared the world over. Nobody trusted them, nobody liked them and everyone had a scary Necromancer story to tell around the campfire. Necromancers were supposed to be cold and weird, pale-faced and disturbing. It was an image that had been carefully cultivated over generations. And now, here they were, sycophantic and scared, gushing praise and mindless worship over a man who could very well be leading them towards a most inglorious end.