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Back Resurrection Save as PDF
Chapters (81)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. Glossary
  78. Dramatis Personae
  79. Keep Reading …
  80. The Skulduggery Pleasant series
  81. About the Publisher

“If you tell me where Tanner Rut is living,” Pleasant said, “I could just fly there. I can do that, you know. Fly. I could fly there, grab him, take him back, or fly there and wait for you, if you really want to be involved …”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Cadaverous said. “I don’t trust you, skeleton.”

“I am deeply offended by that, Cadaverous. I have been a loyal member of this team for almost twenty-three hours now. Does that bonding-time mean nothing to you?”

“Abyssinia doesn’t trust you, either.”

“Abyssinia and I have history. Did she tell you about that? No? Ah, so she’s keeping something from her minions. That’s interesting.”

“I don’t care.”

“No? Are you sure? It’s salacious. I stole her heart, you see. I stole it and I put it in that box. My point is, yes, she may have some trust issues with me, but time heals all wounds, Cadaverous. I have a feeling when we bring her back all will be forgiven, and, once that happens, you’re really going to want to be on my good side. So what do you say? Will we be friends?”

“That will never happen.”

“Do I detect a hint of growing admiration in your voice?”

“You’re a ridiculous creature,” Cadaverous said. “You’re a bad vaudeville act. You belong on stage.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“I’ve known people like you my entire adult life,” Cadaverous said. “Puffed up with their own sense of importance, inflated by their own so-called genius. Arrogant and pompous.”

“You have formed an opinion of me.”

“I have.”

“I have formed one of you. Would you like to hear it?”

“I couldn’t care less.”

“I know you, Cadaverous. You think I don’t, but I do.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“No?” Pleasant said. “But maybe I knew someone just like you. Except his name wasn’t Cadaverous Gant – it was Charles Grantham, a retired professor of English at a semi-prestigious New England university. He’d written a few books of poetry, but nothing that set the world on fire. Truth be told, his poetry was lazy and uninspired. Hackneyed, I believe was the popular opinion among his peers.”

Cadaverous’s hands tightened on the wheel.