“But we need you to be,” said the Inquisitor. “We have been waiting for one such as you. We have been waiting centuries.”

Scapegrace frowned. “For me? Why?”

The Inquisitor spread his arms wide. “This is Meryyn ta Uul. The City Below. The Necropolis. The City of the Dead. Down here, the dead number in their hundreds of thousands. The others are watching us even now, waiting for me to ask.”

“To ask what?”

“To ask you to be our King.”

Scapegrace blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“A Zombie King is but one name for a King of the Dead. We need you here, my lord. I beseech you. Rule over us. We are yours to command.”

“Seriously?”

Thrasher stepped closer. “What about Clarabelle?” he whispered in Scapegrace’s ear. “We told her we’d go back for her. She’s waiting for us.”

Scapegrace nodded. “That’s right. Listen, Mr Inquisitor, we have a friend, and she needs us right now.”

“We need you more.”

“We made a promise, though.”

“A promise to the living is a meaningless thing,” the Inquisitor said. “Our oath of servitude to you, however, would be eternal.”

Scapegrace hesitated. Eternity was a mighty long time. And to rule down here, to take on something as important as the mantle of King of the Dead … that was something he’d never even considered possible.

But to do so would be to abandon Clarabelle, and he could no more do that than he could cut off his own arm. Although he could probably have cut off his own arm relatively easily.

“Some day,” he said. “When my work in the world of the living is done, when they need me no longer, I will return here. This I vow to you.”

The Inquisitor bowed. All the ghosts bowed.

“As you command, my lord.”

Scapegrace nodded to them all and, with Thrasher at his heels, he walked away with as much imperial majesty as he could muster.

76

Darquesse had gone through them like they weren’t even there.

She’d taken out Saracen first. Those arrows had been getting too close, so she’d dumped a wall on him. He lay there now, his bones broken. Valkyrie didn’t know if he were alive or dead.

Darquesse had killed or injured whatever sorcerers, vampires and Cleavers leaped at her next, and then she’d gone after Skulduggery. Valkyrie had watched it from her hiding place. He’d jabbed, swung and thrust with what remained of the sword, and Darquesse played with him long enough for her own amusement, then she’d torn the sword from his grip and hit him so hard Valkyrie hadn’t even seen where he’d landed. Darquesse used the sword to kill a few Cleavers, then Solomon Wreath sprang at her from the shadows.