“Don’t worry,” he said, “we have plenty of other stories to tell you. And I have plenty of stories to tell you about Skulduggery too. Good stories. Scandalous stories. Stories to use against him no matter what the situation.”

“Suddenly this entire night seems like a bad idea,” Skulduggery said.

The conversation died as a man appeared beside them, luxurious blond hair swept back off his fleshy face, wet lips curled in a smile. Behind him stood a boy of Valkyrie’s age.

“My my,” the man said, his chins quivering with his words, “if it isn’t the Skeleton Detective himself, come down off his mountain to grace us lowly sorcerers with his presence. I am so honoured and awestruck that I fear I am at a loss. Should I bow? Kneel? Curtsey?”

“Leave?” Skulduggery suggested, and the man laughed uproariously.

His small eyes turned to Valkyrie. “And you, my dear, this vision in black, must be Valkyrie Cain herself.” She didn’t like the way he looked at her – he was taking far too long. “Skulduggery, my sincerest congratulations – you’ve picked a good one here. Pretty, too. I can see why you take her wherever you go. Not too smart, though, am I right?”

Valkyrie glanced at Skulduggery. “It’s not just me, is it? He is begging for a box, isn’t he?”

“Indeed he is,” Skulduggery said.

“I think so too,” nodded Vex.

“You can go ahead and hit him if you like,” said Skulduggery.

The man laughed, held up his hands. They were pale and soft, like they’d never seen a day’s work. “I surrender!” he mock-cried. “I yield! Please don’t let the girl strike me!”

Valkyrie was going to hit him out of pure principle, but the boy in the tuxedo took hold of the fat man’s arm and tugged it sharply.

“Father,” he said, “I think you’ve had too much wine. Perhaps you would like some air?”

“There’s plenty of air in here,” the man said, “although it seems to be primarily hot air.” He laughed at his own joke, and disentangled himself. “Miss Cain, this is my son, who has taken the grand and noble name of Hansard Kray, and I am his embarrassing father, the scurrilous and drunken Arthur Dagan. See how he blushes for me? Is that not the sign of a loyal and loving child?”

“I’m very sorry,” Hansard said. He was taller than his father, and lean. The only trait they seemed to share was the colour of their hair.

“Don’t apologise for me!” Arthur snapped. “And especially not to her!”

Skulduggery was right by Valkyrie’s elbow, but remained quiet. She appreciated that. Any other man would have leaped in to defend her honour. Valkyrie was quite capable of doing that herself.

“Do you have a problem with me?” she asked Arthur.