She brushed by them both, heading for the exit. Her leg was getting better, her limp less pronounced.

“Lethe told me that Smoke’s power corrupts the soul,” Temper said, “not the mind. I couldn’t tell the difference, to be honest, but that’s how they got Skulduggery, in case you were wondering.”

Valkyrie stopped. “He got you, too?”

“Of course,” said Temper. “Why torture me for information when they can turn me and just ask? I told them whatever I knew, which wasn’t a whole lot, and then they put me in chains.”

Valkyrie turned, switching on her aura-vision, taking in the glowing warmth of Temper’s aura. “You’re clean,” she said.

“Sorry?”

Her vision returned to normal. “Smoke’s corruption, it’s not affecting you any more.”

Temper frowned. “I know. It only lasted two days or something. Wait, you can see that? You can see my soul?”

“I can see … something,” she said. “An aura. It’s colour, mostly.”

“What colour do you see?”

“Orange.”

“Is that good?”

“I don’t know if it’s good. But it’s normal.”

Temper came forward. “I’m sorry that you don’t trust me, and maybe you’re right not to. I’ve done some pretty questionable things in my life. But I don’t need to see auras to know I can trust you. I know they’re looking to use Doctor Melior to bring back someone called Abyssinia, and I doubt that’d be good news for anyone but her, so I’m here to help however I can.”

“I’m here to help, too,” said Omen. “I know you think I’m a kid, and I know you want me to go away, but I can be useful. I need to do this. You said your parents are worried about you. Mine barely even notice me, and when they do it’s to criticise me and call me names. I’ve never been a part of something like this. Please, let me continue. I’ll stay out of trouble, I swear. I’m not going to get hurt.”

“You don’t know that,” Valkyrie said. “For all you know, this is the first step on a journey that will end with you dying in a street somewhere, in your brother’s arms.”

Omen swallowed. “If that’s my destiny, then that’s my destiny. But at least I’ll have one.”

“You’ve got our help,” Temper said, “whether you want it or not. So what do we do?”

She frowned. “Why are you asking me?”

“You’re Valkyrie Cain, aren’t you? If Skulduggery Pleasant isn’t here, you’re in charge. What do you think, Omen? Does that appear to be the hierarchy?”

“It does,” Omen said, his voice cracking as he came forward. He blushed, and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. It does. Skulduggery, then Valkyrie, then you.”

Temper nodded. “And then you.”

“Me? Really?”