She opened her eyes again, but looked up, into the gloom overhead. “Hey!” she shouted. “You awake down there?”

Her voice echoed, but Skulduggery didn’t answer.

Gritting her teeth, Valkyrie kept climbing.

Above her, the tentacles disappeared over a ledge. The last time she was up here, she’d been dragged over. She’d tried to pull away, but those tentacles had sought her out, latched on to her. They only loosened when she’d stopped struggling. She prepared herself for what was to come, and reached up, got her forearm over the ledge.

She hauled herself over.

The thing, whatever it was, was right where she’d left it. A grey, sickly mass – like a giant jellyfish with a huge, gaping maw. The only solid parts of it were those teeth. It was different now, though. It looked … healthier, somehow. The magic it was draining from Skulduggery was good for its complexion.

Valkyrie stood up. Her legs trembled. Her arms felt weak. She could barely close her hands. But the thing wasn’t paying her any attention. Whether it was too preoccupied with Skulduggery, or whether it just didn’t have any interest in non-magical prey, she didn’t know. She didn’t particularly care. Six years ago, she had cut through those tentacles with a heavy, sharp rock. She found that rock again, held it in her hand.

Four tentacles held Skulduggery. Only four. She moved back towards the ledge, crouching, careful not to look over the side. She did her best to group the tentacles together. She managed to push them a little closer. The blob behind her didn’t seem to mind.

It soon would.

She flexed her fingers to get some feeling back. Then she held the sharpened edge of the rock over the thickest and juiciest tentacle. She wet her lips as she raised her hand. Then she smashed it down.

Thick green fluid burst from the wound, and Valkyrie started to saw the rock side to side as the tentacles convulsed. She kept hold of the remaining three, started cutting through, glancing behind her. More tentacles were springing from the blob’s centre, searching blindly for whatever was causing it pain. Valkyrie cut faster, feeling the variation in resistance, the different textures, from rubbery to wet to sticky and back to rubbery again, and then she was through, and she looked over the edge and saw Skulduggery dropping.

Not flying. Dropping.

She looked back. The tentacles thrashed in their search. Dozens of them. Too many to dodge, to cut through, to hope they’d miss her. She dropped the rock, turned to the ledge, put her hands over her face and jumped.

Valkyrie fell.

She started screaming.

She fell past the point where Skulduggery had been hanging and plummeted into the chasm.

She twisted. The wind whipped at her hair. Her body turned. Still she screamed.