The clasps were tight around her ankles. Razzia removed the shackles and Valkyrie raised her arms, allowing her wrists to be clasped. Cadaverous watched her, irritation on his face. She knew he’d rather she struggle and beg. She let her eyes drift away from him, like he wasn’t even there.

Razzia pulled Valkyrie’s T-shirt down a little, then swung the curved plate across her chest. It was cold against her skin.

“Raise her up,” Razzia said, and the hydraulic arm jerked a little, then lifted her relatively smoothly off the dais. With nothing to stand on, her full bodyweight hung from the cold, uncomfortable clasps. She looked down. Funny, it hadn’t looked nearly as high from down there.

When she reached the other two Xs, the arm stopped. She could look straight into the cells of the fourth tier, and the convicts leered at her, shouted things that she ignored. The X started to turn. It was an unsettling sensation. She expected the clasps to break at any moment. Her hair got in her eyes. When she was finally upside down, coins spilled from her pockets and hit Smoke on the head.

He howled. She joined in the laughter. She couldn’t help it.

“Let me do it!” Smoke yelled. “Let me kill her!”

The laughter died as Cadaverous took hold of Smoke’s shoulder and leaned in. “You’re not even on the waiting list, Mr Smoke. I’m the one who gets to end her life.”

“Ah-ah,” Skulduggery responded. “We had a deal. If we get to this point and we’re both still alive, we square off.”

“We don’t have time for that,” said Cadaverous.

The blood was rushing to Valkyrie’s head. She felt woozy and ill.

“Cadaverous has a point,” Lethe said. “We had an arrangement, this is true, but circumstances have changed. Events have transpired. We are now at a crucial juncture and I’m afraid we can’t delay it for a duel.”

“So,” Cadaverous said, “I kill her.”

“We, uh, we mightn’t need to kill her,” Melior said. “We might only need the life force of the first two. That could be enough. The only reason we even have a third is on the off chance we need extra.”

“So there you go!” Lethe said, clapping his hands. “You might get the chance to duel over her yet! Memphis, attach the hose to Mr Collup, if you please.”

Memphis took hold of one end of the first bit of hose and ran it up into the tripod from beneath, then went to the other end and picked up the nozzle. Slinging the hose over his shoulder, he climbed the hydraulic arm with ease. Collup watched him come. He tried to struggle. The prisoners loved it. They cheered.