“Why do I need a point? I mentioned it simply because it’s something that happened. But things happen all the time. Some of them are good things. Exciting things. Things like seeing a dragon. Things like Tanith covering your escape. Other things are bad things. Distressing things. Things like losing a hat your friend made for you. Or losing the last echoes of your uncle. Things happen, Valkyrie, but life carries on regardless of how we feel.”

“Are you trying to cheer me up? Somehow?”

“You don’t need to be cheered up. You just have a decision to make. Allow yourself to wallow in misfortune …”

“Or?”

He shrugged. “Or don’t.”

They started driving again.

“That was your pep talk?” she asked.

“Sort of. I also wanted to talk about my hat. But mostly it was a pep talk. Did it work? Are you pepped? I could give you another one, if you like. About a torn jacket.”

She sighed. “The first one was fine, thank you. What’s that song you’re always whistling? ‘Accentuate the Positive’?”

“I have literally whistled that once since you’ve known me.”

“Whatever. So let’s do that.” She clapped her hands, sat up straighter, forced herself out of her black mood. “OK then, so in this new spirit of positivity, let’s brainstorm. Let’s kick around some ideas. How will we defeat Darquesse?”

“The God-Killer weapons.”

“OK, yes, good. Anything else?”

“I’ve been thinking about this,” Skulduggery said, “and I’ve come to the conclusion that we should bring Melancholia out of her coma.”

“That’s it!” said Valkyrie, clapping her hands again. “See, that’s the kind of brainstorming we need! Now do you have any ideas that are actually useful? Because obviously waking up Melancholia is a truly dreadful one.”

Skulduggery said nothing.

“Oh, come on,” said Valkyrie. “We can’t wake her up. She’s the Death Bringer. Sure, when you get to know her, she’s not that bad, but she’s unhinged and she tried to kill us. Really? Waking her up is your best idea? Something tells me she’s not a morning person.”

“We’re going to need her as reinforcements.”

“So who’s going to convince her to help us?”

“Well … you’re probably the closest thing she has to a friend.”

“That’s the saddest thing I ever heard.”

“I know,” said Skulduggery. “I know.”

43

SHUNTING RAVEL

rskine Ravel screamed.

The doctors were giving him foul-smelling liquids to drink with his meals, to make sure he didn’t rupture his vocal cords. He did a lot of screaming. He did a lot of screaming and sweating and crying and begging. Twenty-three hours of agony a day. This was what it looked like.

Valkyrie felt no pity.