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Back Resurrection
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

“We have a Necromancer on our teaching staff, here at the Academy. Are you calling her a murderer, too, Jenan?”

He shrugged again. Defiant this time.

Miss Wicked nodded, like she had reached a conclusion she had no intention of sharing. “I see,” she said.

There was a knock on the door and a blushing First Year came in. He hurried up to Miss Wicked, passed her a note, and hurried out as fast as his little legs could carry him. Miss Wicked glanced at the piece of paper, then looked up.

“Omen,” she said.

Omen sat straighter. “Yes, miss?”

“Your presence is required elsewhere.”

A creeping dread came over him. Peccant must really be on the warpath if he was taking Omen out of class. “Do I really have to go?”

Miss Wicked gave a half-smile, and a part of him, beyond the dread, delighted in being able to amuse her. “Yes, you do. Take your bag and report to the South Tower.”

Omen frowned. “Mr Peccant isn’t going to throw me off, is he?”

“I have no more information than that, I’m afraid. You’ll have to take your chances. Off you go.”

Omen glanced at Never and got a sympathetic look in reply. He stuffed his book into his bag, headed for the door and tripped over Jenan’s outstretched foot. Omen went stumbling and the class erupted into laughter that was immediately curtailed by Miss Wicked’s arched eyebrow.

Omen left the room and dragged himself to the South Tower. Peccant may have been an excellent teacher, but he was also a terrifying man with an explosive temper, and Omen had always got the impression that teaching was just the wrong vocation for him. Maybe something like State Executioner would have been more suited to his personality. Or Puppy-Killer.

Despite his reluctance to arrive, Omen walked a little faster. To keep Peccant waiting when the teacher was already in a bad mood would not have been wise. Omen took the main stairs up and cut through the Combat Arts block. Not every Corrival graduate was going to work for a Sanctuary, but it was still generally acknowledged that being able to defend yourself was a good thing, and should be encouraged. In this block, they devoted equal time to the physical and magical sides of self-defence. Auger, of course, was the star pupil.