Valkyrie sat up. At first, she thought Fletcher was frozen, but no, he was still moving. Just very slowly. Incredibly slowly. The nervous guy in the ill-fitting suit had his hands raised and his eyes were narrowed. He was doing this. She’d seen it before, or something like it. Jeremiah Wallow had been able to slow time whenever he attacked, so as to prolong the pleasure of the kill. It seemed to her to be the perfect power for serial killers everywhere.

“Nero,” said Lethe, “I think it’s only fitting that one Teleporter should kill another.”

“As you command,” Nero said, taking a long knife from his jacket and walking up behind Fletcher.

Hissing with the pain, Valkyrie got to her knees and let loose a stream of lightning. She missed the guy in the ill-fitting suit, but did make him duck away.

“—to stop me,” Fletcher said, moving normally again.

“Behind you!” Valkyrie called, and Fletcher vanished just as Nero went to stab him in the back, appearing beside him an instant later and slugging him across the jaw.

Nero stumbled and Fletcher teleported to Skulduggery’s side and they both disappeared. A moment later, he was pulling Valkyrie to her feet and then they were indoors, in a hospital, and Fletcher let go of her and teleported again.

Two orderlies were helping Skulduggery on to a bed. Another one came for Valkyrie. Reverie Synecdoche hurried in from another room, eyes wide in alarm. Fletcher reappeared, his hands full of Skulduggery’s discarded bones.

“Here’s the rest,” he said, and Nero appeared behind him.

“No!” Valkyrie cried, and Fletcher turned and Nero plunged the knife into his belly.

20

“Ouch,” said Omen, sticking his thumb into his mouth and sucking it.

Never didn’t even look up from her textbook. “What’d you do?”

“Paper cut,” said Omen.

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

The detention hall was empty except for them. It would have been empty except for Omen if Never hadn’t decided to keep him company at the last minute.

“You’re hiding from someone,” Omen said.

“No, I’m not,” Never replied. “I just thought I’d make a start on my homework, that’s all. How far are you through Peccant’s punishment?”

Omen checked. “Almost halfway.”

“You’d want to get a move on.”

“It’s really difficult.”

“That’s why it’s called a punishment and not a treat.”

Omen checked what he had left to do, then looked up. “Never …”

Never didn’t answer.

“Never …”

“What?”

“Can you do it for me?”

Never turned the page, kept reading. “No.”

“But you’re so much better at maths than I am.”

“My cat is better at maths than you are.”

“But it’ll only take you a few minutes to get through the rest of this.”