Playing With Fire

Chapter Thirty-three THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

UP ON THE DANCE floor, a portly man was throwing his wife around with gay abandon, twirling and twisting and having a ball, while his wife spent her time looking terrified. When she finally broke free, she slapped his arm and went to storm off, but dizziness overtook her and she wobbled sideways and collided with another dancer, and it was like a glorious domino effect in slow motion, with extra squealing.

Something for Valkyrie to grin at, at least.

The band announced, in a loud muffle that was completely distorted by the feedback on the microphone, that they were going to slow things down now. The band consisted of two gents in black slacks and blue sparkly jackets. One of them played saxophone and he wasn't much good, and the other wore sunglasses and sang and played keyboard and he didn't do any of that particularly well. That is to say, he didn't sing or play the keyboard particularly well —

he wore sunglasses as competently as anyone who chose to wear sunglasses at night. None of this seemed to matter to a roomful of drunken people who would dance to anything as long as they thought they recognized the tune.

There was a doorway leading to another room, presumably where all the tables and chairs were stored between functions. It was dark in here, and Valkyrie didn't turn on the light.

She put her coat on the remaining table and took a long box from its pocket. She laid the box next to the coat and opened it. She had asked Skulduggery to stop by Gordon's house on the way back. She'd told him there was something she had to pick up, and he hadn't inquired as to what that might have been. She was glad he hadn't asked. The Echo Stone glowed, and Echo-Gordon faded up.

"Are we here?" he whispered excitedly.

"Be careful now," Valkyrie warned. "If anyone sees you — "

"I know, I know," Echo-Gordon said, inching toward the door. He peeked out. "Look at them all. It's been years since I've seen these people. I don't even know half of them."

She stood beside him. He pointed.

"There's your mum. My, she looks beautiful. Will you tell her that?"

"Sure."

"And there's Fergus. And there's your dad. Oh, and Beryl. What's she doing? Her face looks strained. Is she having a stroke?"

"I think she's smiling."

He shook his head sadly. "Not a good look for her. And good God, where is that music coming from?" He moved slightly so he could see the stage, and the two morons in blue. "Well, that's just . . . terrible. And there are actually people dancing? Horrific. I wouldn't be caught dead up there."

He paused, thought about what he'd said, and grinned.

Valkyrie moved to the window and glanced out, but it was too dark to see anything.

"Scared?" Echo-Gordon asked, his tone a little softer now.

She shrugged. "I don't like being bait for a vampire."

"There's a shocking piece of news," he said, smiling. "If you were to change your mind, Skulduggery would understand, you know. There's no shame in fear."

She nodded but didn't answer.

"I know him," Echo-Gordon continued. "He doesn't want to see you hurt, and I certainly don't want to see you hurt. Stephanie, or Valkyrie, or whatever name you go by, you are still my favorite niece, and I am still your wise uncle."

She smiled. "You're wise?"

He pretended to be insulted. "So says the girl who's acting as vampire bait."

"Point taken."

She saw movement outside the door, someone coming in. She pointed and Echo-Gordon panicked, looked around for somewhere to hide, and darted behind the door.

Carol and Crystal barged in, knocking the door open wider. It swung all the way until it was flat against the wall, having passed through Echo-Gordon completely. He now stood there in plain view, with his eyes closed.

If Carol and Crystal were to look around, they'd see their dead uncle standing right behind them.

"Oh," Carol said, looking at Valkyrie. "It's you."

"Yes," Valkyrie said stiffly. "It is."

"Here with all your friends, are you?" Crystal said, and the twins laughed.

Behind them, Echo-Gordon opened one eye, realized he wasn't hiding behind the door anymore, and started to panic again.

"I'm just getting a break from everyone," Valkyrie said. "What brings you two in here?"

Echo-Gordon got on his hands and knees, and crawled under the table, passing through the long tablecloth without disturbing it.

Carol regarded Valkyrie with half-closed eyelids, in what was presumably meant to indicate scorn. "We're looking for somewhere to light up," she said, producing a cigarette from her frightfully gaudy purse.

"You smoke?" Crystal asked.

"No," Valkyrie said. "Never really saw the point."

"Typical," Carol muttered, and Crystal made a show out of trying not to laugh. "We're going somewhere else, then. Oh, and you better not tell on us, all right? You better keep your mouth shut."

"You got it."

The twins looked at each other triumphantly, and walked out without another word.

Echo-Gordon stood up through the table, and stepped out of it. "Ah, the twins. I'll never forget the day they were born," and his smile dipped as he added, "no matter how hard I try. ..."

He noticed Valkyrie looking out the window again.

He spoke kindly. "Fear is a good thing, you know."

"It doesn't feel good."

"But it keeps you alive. Bravery, after all, isn't the absence of fear. Bravery is the acknowledgment and the conquering of fear."

She smiled. "I think I read that on the back of a cornflakes box."

Echo-Gordon nodded. "Understandable. That's where I get all my wisdom."

She left the window and looked out the door, at her relations as they laughed and talked and drank and danced.

"I am scared," she said. "I'm scared of being hurt, and I'm scared of dying. But mostly I'm scared of letting down my parents. Other kids my age, I can see it, they're embarrassed by their folks. Maybe the mother won't stop fussing, or the father thinks he's funny when he's not. But I love my parents, because they're good people. If we fail in this, if we don't stop Vengeous and the Grotesquery, then my parents" — suddenly, unexpectedly, her voice cracked — "will die."

The image of her uncle looked at her and didn't say anything.

"I can't let that happen," she said.

Echo-Gordon looked at her and she saw it all in his eyes, and he didn't need to say anything. He just nodded, and murmured, "Well all right then."

He looked back at the party, his broad smile returning, and he nodded. "It's time to put me back in the box, I'm afraid. You have things to do, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

She picked up the stone, placed it in the box.

"Thank you for this," Echo-Gordon said. "It was nice being around the family again.

Reminds me just how much I don't miss them."

She laughed and closed the box.

"Be careful," he said, and faded away.

She walked out to the function room. She saw her father talking with Fergus and another man. Her mother was sitting at a table, pretending to be asleep. Beryl stood alone, looking around like a startled heron. She spied someone she hadn't gossiped with and descended with alarming zeal.

Carol and Crystal entered from another room. Carol was looking a little green, and Crystal was red-faced with a coughing fit.

Valkyrie stepped through the glass doors onto the small balcony, felt the fresh breeze, and looked out over the dark golf course. Beyond the course were the dunes, and the beach, and the sea. Both hands resting on the balcony railing, Valkyrie took a deep, calming breath.

Something moved over the dark golf course.

She blinked. For a moment it had looked like a person, running and keeping low, but now there was no one there. Had this been any other night,

she might have been inclined to believe it was merely her mind playing tricks on her. But this wasn't any other night.

The vampires were coming.