might seem quaint now, but it’s all we had before movies. The Faceless Ones were banished, forced back to wherever they came from.”
“So what’s happening here? He’s killing his gods?”
“Yep. The Scepter was fueled by the Ancients’ desire to be free. That was the most powerful force they had at their disposal.”
“So it’s a force for freedom?”
“Originally. However, once the Ancients no longer had the Faceless Ones to tell them what to do, they started fighting among themselves, and they turned the Scepter on each other and fueled it with hate.”
The streetlights played on his skull as they passed in and out of darkness, flashing bone white in a hypnotic rhythm.
“The last Ancient,” he continued, “having driven his gods away, having killed all his friends and all his family, realized what he had done, and hurled the Scepter deep into the Earth, where the ground swallowed it.”
“What did he do then?”
“Probably went for a snooze. I don’t know, it’s a legend, it’s an allegory. It didn’t really happen.”
“So why does Serpine think it’s real?”
“Now that
is
puzzling. Like his master before him, he believes some of our darker myths, our more disturbing legends. He believes the world was a better place when the Faceless Ones were in charge. They didn’t exactly approve of humanity, you see, and they demanded worship.”
“The ritual that he’s been looking for—is it to bring them back?”
“It is indeed.”
“So he might think that the Scepter, which drove them away, could somehow call them back, right?”
“People believe all kinds of things when it comes to their religion.”
“Do you believe in any of it? The Ancients, Faceless Ones, any of it?”
“I believe in me, Stephanie, and that’s enough for now.”
“So could the Scepter be real?”
“Highly unlikely.”
“So what does any of this have to do with my uncle?”
“I don’t know,” Skulduggery admitted. “That’s why they call it a mystery.”
Light filled the car, and suddenly the world was bucking, the only sounds a terrifying crash and the shriek of metal on metal. Stephanie lurched against her seat belt and slammed her head against the window, and the street outside tilted wildly and she realized the Bentley was flipping over. She heard Skulduggery curse beside her, and for an instant she was weightless, and then the Bentley hit the ground again and jarred her in her seat.
The car rocked back onto its tires. Stephanie looked at her knees, her eyes wide but her brain too stunned to think.
Look up
, said a faint voice in her head.
Look up to see what’s happening
. The Bentley was still, its engine cut out, but there was another engine. A car door, opening and closing.
Look up
. Footsteps, running footsteps
. Look up now
. Skulduggery beside her, not moving.
Look up, there’s
someone coming for you. Look up NOW.
A window exploded beside her for the second time that night, and the man from the house was grabbing her and hauling her out of the car.
Six
A M AN A PART
H IS CLOTHES WERE ragged and charred, but his skin had been untouched by the fireball that had enveloped him at Gordon’s house. She glimpsed his face as she was dragged through the yellow beams of the Bentley’s headlights, a face that was twisted in anger and hatred, and then she was lifted and slammed onto the hood of the car that had hit them. His hands had her collar bunched, his knuckles digging into her throat.
“You will die,” he snarled, “right here and now if you do not give me that damned key.”
Her hands were on his, trying to break his grip.Her head felt light, blood pounding in her temples. “Please,” she whispered, trying to breathe.
“You’re going to make me look bad,” the man growled. “My master is going to think I’m a fool if I can’t get one stupid little key off one stupid little girl!”
The street was empty around them. Shop fronts and businesses had closed for the night. No
“So what’s happening here? He’s killing his gods?”
“Yep. The Scepter was fueled by the Ancients’ desire to be free. That was the most powerful force they had at their disposal.”
“So it’s a force for freedom?”
“Originally. However, once the Ancients no longer had the Faceless Ones to tell them what to do, they started fighting among themselves, and they turned the Scepter on each other and fueled it with hate.”
The streetlights played on his skull as they passed in and out of darkness, flashing bone white in a hypnotic rhythm.
“The last Ancient,” he continued, “having driven his gods away, having killed all his friends and all his family, realized what he had done, and hurled the Scepter deep into the Earth, where the ground swallowed it.”
“What did he do then?”
“Probably went for a snooze. I don’t know, it’s a legend, it’s an allegory. It didn’t really happen.”
“So why does Serpine think it’s real?”
“Now that
is
puzzling. Like his master before him, he believes some of our darker myths, our more disturbing legends. He believes the world was a better place when the Faceless Ones were in charge. They didn’t exactly approve of humanity, you see, and they demanded worship.”
“The ritual that he’s been looking for—is it to bring them back?”
“It is indeed.”
“So he might think that the Scepter, which drove them away, could somehow call them back, right?”
“People believe all kinds of things when it comes to their religion.”
“Do you believe in any of it? The Ancients, Faceless Ones, any of it?”
“I believe in me, Stephanie, and that’s enough for now.”
“So could the Scepter be real?”
“Highly unlikely.”
“So what does any of this have to do with my uncle?”
“I don’t know,” Skulduggery admitted. “That’s why they call it a mystery.”
Light filled the car, and suddenly the world was bucking, the only sounds a terrifying crash and the shriek of metal on metal. Stephanie lurched against her seat belt and slammed her head against the window, and the street outside tilted wildly and she realized the Bentley was flipping over. She heard Skulduggery curse beside her, and for an instant she was weightless, and then the Bentley hit the ground again and jarred her in her seat.
The car rocked back onto its tires. Stephanie looked at her knees, her eyes wide but her brain too stunned to think.
Look up
, said a faint voice in her head.
Look up to see what’s happening
. The Bentley was still, its engine cut out, but there was another engine. A car door, opening and closing.
Look up
. Footsteps, running footsteps
. Look up now
. Skulduggery beside her, not moving.
Look up, there’s
someone coming for you. Look up NOW.
A window exploded beside her for the second time that night, and the man from the house was grabbing her and hauling her out of the car.
Six
A M AN A PART
H IS CLOTHES WERE ragged and charred, but his skin had been untouched by the fireball that had enveloped him at Gordon’s house. She glimpsed his face as she was dragged through the yellow beams of the Bentley’s headlights, a face that was twisted in anger and hatred, and then she was lifted and slammed onto the hood of the car that had hit them. His hands had her collar bunched, his knuckles digging into her throat.
“You will die,” he snarled, “right here and now if you do not give me that damned key.”
Her hands were on his, trying to break his grip.Her head felt light, blood pounding in her temples. “Please,” she whispered, trying to breathe.
“You’re going to make me look bad,” the man growled. “My master is going to think I’m a fool if I can’t get one stupid little key off one stupid little girl!”
The street was empty around them. Shop fronts and businesses had closed for the night. No
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