They climbed the stairs and stepped out through the window. Dawn was on its way. Valkyrie took out her phone to check the time. It fell to pieces the moment it left her pocket.

“Huh,” she said. “I think I need a more impact-resistant phone.”

Skulduggery took out his. “Three missed calls, all from Ghastly.”

“At least he’s alive.”

Skulduggery wrapped one arm around her waist, and they rose up off the pavement. “Thanks to you,” he said.

They flew over the city, the wind gently boosting them. The flashing lights and the sirens faded and Valkyrie looked to the approaching horizon, fighting the voice in her head. She used to love it when Skulduggery would take her into the air. The pure sensation of flying used to make her smile so, so wide. But now she wanted to pull away, to flatten out and go like a rocket. She wanted to do it herself. She wanted to feel that level of power again.

Soon, the voice in her head told her. Soon.

Chapter 60 - Tattletale

Chapter 60
Tattletale

armth and sunshine never really seemed to reach Roarhaven. It was as if it had its own extra layer of atmosphere that kept out anything that could possibly lighten the mood of its citizens. The same dour faces peered at the Bentley as they passed, unimpressed with the activity that was making the Sanctuary hum.

The Bentley stopped right at the end of the main street, and Skulduggery and Valkyrie looked at all the sorcerers streaming in through the Sanctuary doors. Today, they were to be honoured by the guests and the Council of Elders for their work to prevent the Passage, and for their efforts to save the lives of the people who were gathering. Ravel had assured them it would be a quiet ceremony.

“It doesn’t look quiet,” Valkyrie said.

“Indeed it does not,” Skulduggery murmured.

“Are they going to give us medals, or something? Maybe vouchers? I could use some vouchers.”

“There’s going to be speeches. Everyone of importance will want to stand up and give a speech. I hate speeches. They’re only good when I give them.”

Valkyrie sighed. “How long before it starts?”

“Ten minutes.”

She opened the car door. “I’m going for a walk.”

“You better not be late.”

She grinned. “Would I do that to you?”

She got out, and the Bentley moved on. She crossed the street. There would be enough hand-shaking and polite smiles as it was – she didn’t need to turn up early and subject herself to more.

“Here she is,” said a voice from behind her, “the hero of the hour.”

She turned, watching warily as Solomon Wreath approached, his cane tapping the pavement. “Are we going to start fighting?”

“Why ever would we do that?” he asked, smiling.

“I’d say I’m not the Necromancers’ favourite person right now.”