'Oh, no,' Skulduggery said with a little laugh. 'No, they didn't take it. I was sleeping, about ten or fifteen years ago, and these little goblin things ran up and nicked it right off my spinal column. Didn't notice it was gone till the next morning.'
Stephanie frowned. 'And you didn't feel that?'
'Well, like I said, I was asleep. Meditating, I suppose you'd call it. I can't see, hear, or feel anything when I'm meditating. Have you tried it?'
'No.'
'It's very relaxing. I think you'd like it.'
'I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on you losing your head.'
'I didn't lose it,' he said defensively. 'It was stolen.'
She was feeling stronger now. She couldn't believe that she'd fainted. Fainted. It was such an old-woman thing to do. She glanced up at Skulduggery. 'You've had a very unusual life, haven't you?'
'I suppose I have. Not over yet, though. Well, technically it is, but ...'
'Isn't there anything you miss?'
'About what?'
'About living.'
'Compared to how long I've been like this, I was only technically alive for a blink of an eye. I can't really remember enough about having a beating heart in my chest to miss it.'
'So there's nothing you miss?'
'I ... I suppose I miss hair. I miss how it . . . was. And how it was there, on top of my head. I suppose I miss my hair.'
He took out his pocket watch and his head jerked back. 'Wow, look at the time. I've got to go, Stephanie.'
'Go? Go where?'
'Things to do, I'm afraid. Number one is finding out why that nice gentleman was sent here, and number two is finding out who sent him.'
'You can't leave me alone,' she said, following him into the living room.
'No,' he corrected, 'I can. You'll be perfectly safe.'
'The front door's off!'
'Well, yes. You'll be perfectly safe as long as they don't come through the front door.'
He pulled on his coat, but she snatched his hat away.
'Are you taking my hat hostage?' he asked doubtfully.
'You're either staying here to make sure no one else attacks me, or you're taking me with you.'
Skulduggery froze. 'That,' he said eventually, 'wouldn't be too safe for you.'
'Neither would being left here on my own.'
'But you can hide,' he said, gesturing around the room. 'There are so many places to hide. I'm sure there are plenty of good solid wardrobes your size. Even under a bed. You'd be surprised how many people don't check under beds these days.'
'Mr. Pleasant — '
'Skulduggery, please.'
'Skulduggery, you saved my life tonight. Are you going to undo all that effort by leaving me here so someone else can just come along and kill me?'
'That's a very defeatist attitude you've got there. I once knew a fellow, a little older than you.
He wanted to join me in my adventures, wanted to solve mysteries that beggared belief. He kept asking, kept at me about it. He finally proved himself, after a long time, and we became partners.'
'And did you go on to have lots of exciting adventures?'
'I did. He didn't. He died on our very first case together. Horrible death. Messy, too. Lots of flailing around.'
'Well, I don't plan on dying anytime soon, and I've got something he didn't.'
'And that is . . . ?'
'Your hat. Take me with you, or I'll stand on it.'
He looked at her with his big hollow eye sockets, then held out his hand for his hat. 'Don't say I didn't warn you.'
Chapter Five
Meeting China Sorrows
Skulduggery Pleasant's car was a 1954 Bentley R-Type Continental, one of only 208 ever made, a car that housed a six-cylinder, 4.5-liter engine and was retrofitted with power locks, climate control, satellite navigation, and a host of other modern conveniences. Skulduggery had told her all of this when she'd asked. She'd have been happy with 'It's a Bentley.'
They left Gordon's land via a back road at the rear of the estate to avoid the flooding, a road that Stephanie hadn't even seen until they were on it. Skulduggery told her he was a regular visitor here, and knew all the little nooks and crannies. They passed a sign for Haggard, and she thought about asking him to drop her at home but quickly banished that idea from her head. If she went home now, she'd be turning her back on everything she'd just seen. She needed to know more. She needed to see more.
'Where are we going?' she asked as they drove.
'Into the city. I've got a meeting with an old friend. She might be able to shed some light on recent events.'
'Why were you at the house?'
'Sorry?'
'Tonight. Not that I'm not grateful, but how come you happened to be nearby?'
'Ah,' he said, nodding. 'Yes, I can see how that question would arise.'
'So are you going to answer it?'
'That's unlikely.'
'Well, why not?'
He glanced at her, or at least he turned his head a fraction. 'The less you know about all this, the better. You're a perfectly normal young lady, and after tonight you're going to return to your perfectly normal life. It wouldn't do for you to get too involved in this.'
'But I am involved.'
'But we can limit that involvement.'
'But I don't want to limit that involvement.'
'But it's what's best for you.'
'But I don't want that!'
'But it might — '
'Don't start another sentence with but.'
'Right. Sorry.'
'You can't expect me to forget about all this. I've seen magic, and fire, and you, and I've learned about wars they don't tell us about in school. I've seen a world I never even knew existed.'
'Don't you want to get back to your own world? It's safer there.'
'That's not where I belong.'
Now he completely turned his head toward her and cocked it at an angle. 'Funny. When I first met your uncle, that's what he said too.'
'The things he wrote about,' she said, the idea just dawning on her, 'are they true?'
'His books? No, not a one.'
'Oh.'
'They're more inspired by true stories, really. He just changed them enough so he wouldn't insult anyone and get hunted down and killed. Your uncle was a good man, he really was. We solved many mysteries together.'
'Really?'
'Oh yes, you should be proud to have had an uncle like him. Of course, he got me into a hundred fights, because I'd bring him somewhere and he wouldn't stop pestering people, but . . .
Fun times. Fun times.'
