He shrugged. When his shoulders lifted, they were in the middle of another brightly-lit corridor in the new Sanctuary. When they fell, they were standing beside the Accelerator.

The Engineer stood in the doorway, looking out. It turned. “Terribly sad,” it said.

Valkyrie’s frown deepened. She hurried past the robot. There was a group of people in the corridor outside, huddled round someone who’d collapsed. With Fletcher behind her, they approached, just as Reverie Synecdoche crouched down over the still body.

Valkyrie froze. Fletcher bumped into her. He was about to apologise when he saw what she was looking at – when he saw the burnished red trousers, the dark hair. The blood on the face. The grave expression worn by Synecdoche.

“Stephanie?” he said.

Skulduggery looked up, saw them. “Out,” he said to the other people crowding around. “Everyone I didn’t personally ask for, leave immediately.”

There was a hesitation, and then the crowd dispersed, saving their murmurings for when they were upstairs. Valkyrie and Fletcher stayed where they were, staring.

On the ground behind Synecdoche was another body – a big man who looked like he’d also sustained a lot of damage. Obloquy.

Fletcher walked forward. He looked unsteady. “Is she OK?” he asked, like he hadn’t any breath left in his body.

“I’m sorry,” said Synecdoche. “There’s nothing we could do.”

Fletcher stayed very still, then suddenly fell sideways, hit the wall with his shoulder, slid to the floor. He never took his eyes off his girlfriend. “We were here,” he whispered. “We were just here. Talking.”

“He must have attacked her immediately after you left,” Synecdoche said.

Stephanie’s face had a look of terror etched on to it that was making Valkyrie feel sick. She’d put up a fight. A hell of a fight. It hadn’t been enough.

“Obloquy,” Valkyrie said. Speaking felt oddly clumsy. Her face felt numb. “He’s a Sensitive.”

Skulduggery nodded. “Darquesse possessed him. He’s dead, too. His body is burnt out, just like the mortal woman this morning.”

Synecdoche’s hand began to glow, and she passed it over Stephanie’s body. “Strangulation,” she muttered, almost to herself. “Broken arm. Broken jaw. But asphyxiation is the probable cause of death.” She moved Stephanie’s body, ever so slightly, and a cloaking sphere rolled out from underneath.

It came to a stop against the wall. It nokked slightly.

“Oh, God,” said Fletcher when he saw it. “She was here. She was being killed and we couldn’t see her.” He stood up, looked at Valkyrie. “You think she heard? You think she heard what we were saying?”

“I … I don’t know,” said Valkyrie.

Fletcher covered his face with his hands. Valkyrie went to comfort him, but he jerked away, and when she stepped towards him he vanished.