The Inquisitor was silent for a moment. “I know of some who know you, skeleton. They whisper in my ear even now. They know the things you have done. They know of the things done to you. They know of your wife and child.”

Now it was Skulduggery’s turn to pause. “What does any of this have to do with the test?”

“Your wife and child,” said the Inquisitor, “murdered in front of you by a man whom you later turned to dust. They died screaming. They died begging you to save them. Your existence from that point on has been defined by that moment.”

“If you’re trying to provoke me, it won’t work,” Skulduggery said.

“These are not my words,” said the Inquisitor. “These are the words being whispered into my ear.”

“Who’s doing the whispering?”

Now there was amusement in the Inquisitor’s voice. “Ones who know you. Ones who are aware of you. Ones you would not wish to be aware of you.”

“Any of them got such a thing as a name?”

“You and your kind rely so much on names,” said the Inquisitor. “But there are those who do not.”

“Fantastic,” Skulduggery said. “Can we please get to the point before—”

“Your wife and child,” said the Inquisitor.

Skulduggery stopped. “What?”

“They whisper to me also. They are here, in this city. Waiting for you.”

“They’re dead.”

“And is this not the City of the Dead?”

“They’ve been dead hundreds of years,” said Skulduggery. “They’re gone. They’re not here. No part of them is here. You’re lying. Why?”

“If you believe that I am lying, you can pass on and I will not stop you.”

“What about the test?”

“This is the test.”

Skulduggery didn’t move for a few seconds. Fletcher glanced at Wreath. The Necromancer had a slight frown on his face.

Skulduggery walked by the Inquisitor, and the Inquisitor stepped into the shadows and vanished.

“That was easy,” said Fletcher.

“So it would seem,” said Wreath.

Fletcher frowned. “It was too easy, wasn’t it?”

Wreath nodded. “So it would seem.”

64

CHASING ALICE

alkyrie’s mum helped her dress.

“Get Fletcher,” her dad said, his eyes frantic. “He appears and disappears, doesn’t he? He’ll take us right to Alice.”

“Fletch teleports to places, not to people,” Valkyrie said while her mum guided her right foot into its boot. Her ankle was sore, but at least she could walk on it. The rest of her ached. Her ribs, her face, her jaw. Her left hand was already swelling up to twice its normal size. The pain would have been excruciating were it not for the leaves she chewed.

Her mother pulled the cuffs of Valkyrie’s trousers down over her boots, and Valkyrie stood up from the bed. Hissing, she slipped her left arm through the sleeve of her jacket, and her mum helped her with the right, then zipped her up.