“Centuries ago,” Skulduggery said, “before the Sanctuaries were formed and each territory had its own Council of Elders, magical communities were bound together by way of a loose, international agreement of sorts. We’ll help you if you need it, providing you help us if we need it – that kind of thing. During this time there were certain sorcerers, much like the Marshal Service in the Old West, who delivered justice around the world and enforced the recognised law. They were called Arbiters. When the Sanctuaries came along, Arbiters weren’t needed, but the institution was never actually disbanded.”

“So the new Supreme Mage in all her majesty made you an Arbiter?” Valkyrie said.

“Actually, it was a lowly Grand Mage who bestowed that honour upon me,” Skulduggery said. “Grand Mage Naila. The African Sanctuary has troubles of its own right now, but they’ve been keeping an eye on how things have been going over here. As Arbiter, I now have jurisdiction all around the world and I’m free to investigate whatever I choose.”

“And who’s your boss?”

“Technically, I don’t have one.”

“How do you get paid?”

“I don’t do what I do for money.”

There was a low buzzing in Valkyrie’s ears that she tried to ignore. “But you do get paid, right? Who pays you?”

He sighed. “Each Sanctuary contributes a proportional amount in order to fund the Arbiter Corps.”

“And how many people are in the Arbiter Corps?”

“Including me and you? Two.”

“I’m not a part of it.”

“Your credentials were approved two hours ago.”

“By who?”

“Me.”

The buzzing got louder until it filled her head, and then her vision blurred for a moment, then came sharply into focus like a new lens being attached to a camera. The world suddenly burst with colour, a glorious red that overlaid Skulduggery’s body, and Valkyrie staggered.

“Valkyrie?” he asked. “Are you OK?”

She nodded, aware that she was blinking madly. “I’m just … I can see your aura.”

He tilted his head. “I didn’t know it was showing.”

“Give me a moment. It’ll go away.”

“Take your time,” he said, but even before he’d got the words out her vision had already snapped back to normal.

She straightened. “I’m good.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. Really. It’s happened plenty of times before.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. “I call it my aura-vision. I really need a better name for it, but whatever. If you’re interested, your aura is a vibrant red.”

“Ah, excellent,” he responded. “Is red a good colour for one’s aura to be?”

“I have no idea. Most auras I see are orange. I think you’re different because … you’re different.”

He nodded. “That would make sense.”