“We are,” said Scapegrace. He found himself unbelievably thankful that Thrasher was coming with him. He didn’t want to embark on this alone, no matter how tough he talked. He looked at Thrasher, and said, “You’re an idiot.”

“Thank you, sir,” Thrasher replied.

“Fletcher will take you to the Necropolis now,” Skulduggery said. “If you run, you can make it to the Guardian in a little over twenty minutes. No matter what, he has to agree to fight you. And no matter what, Vaurien, you have to win. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“We’re going to be putting all our efforts into keeping Darquesse away from Valkyrie for approximately twenty-five minutes. If you take any longer than that, if you get lost or you take too long with the fight, or if you lose, then it’ll all be for nothing.”

“I won’t let you down.”

“We’re counting on you. The world is counting on you.”

Skulduggery held out his hand. Scapegrace shook it.

Clarabelle burst through the doors and ran up to him. “Scapey! Gerald! Take me with you! I can help!”

“Clarabelle, no,” said Scapegrace.

Skulduggery stepped away, gesturing to Fletcher.

“I can mend you if you get hurt,” Clarabelle said. “If bits fall off, I can stick them back on. I’ll be useful!”

“You’re alive,” Scapegrace said softly. “No one living can enter the Necropotus.”

“Necropolis,” Thrasher whispered.

“But you’re my only friends,” Clarabelle said. She was crying. Scapegrace’s heart was a rotten piece of meat in his chest, but even so it broke at the sight of her tears.

He hugged her. “We’re doing this to save you,” he said.

“Please don’t go.”

“You have other friends here.”

“They think I’m weird.”

“I think you’re weird.”

“But you’re weird, too, so that doesn’t matter. Gerald, please.”

“I’m sorry,” said Thrasher. “But if we can come back, we will. Because we’re a family, Clarabelle. We’ll always come back to family.”

Clarabelle hid her face in her hands. “Don’t leave me …”

Scapegrace stepped back. He took hold of Thrasher’s wrist and then Fletcher took hold of his.

“Goodbye,” Scapegrace said, and he didn’t even have time to blink and they were somewhere else, somewhere new. In a cavern, at the bottom of marble steps, facing a city.

“Enter there,” Fletcher said. “You have the map, right?”

Thrasher held it up. “Yes we do.”

Fletcher nodded. “If I survive this, and if you survive this, I’ll see you again. Good luck, the both of you.”

He disappeared.

Scapegrace and Thrasher. Alone, in the City of the Dead.

“I feel sad,” said Thrasher.

“Shut up,” Scapegrace growled. He started running.

They got lost four times, thanks to Thrasher’s inability to read the map. Even so, they made better time than expected, and reached the square in the middle of the Necropolis in nineteen minutes.