Playing with Fire (Skulduggery Pleasant, Book 2) Read Online Free
Author: Derek Landy
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous stories, All Ages, Children's Books, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Action & Adventure - General, Magic, Fantasy & Magic, Science Fiction; Fantasy; & Magic, Children: Grades 4-6, Horror & Ghost Stories
things there were always so quiet and peaceful and so, so dull.
That all changed when Nefarian Serpine murdered her uncle. Gordon was a best-selling novelist, a writer of horror and fantasy, but he was also a man who knew the Big Secret. He knew about the subculture of sorcerers and mages, about the quiet little wars they had fought. He knew about the Faceless Ones-- the terrible dark gods, exiled from this world-- and the people who wanted them to return.
In the days that followed, she had met the Skeleton Detective and learned that she had a
30
bloodline that could be traced back to the world's first sorcerers, the Ancients. She was also faced with taking a new name. Everyone, Skulduggery had told her, has three names: the name they are born with, the name they are given, and the name they take. The name they are born with, their true name, lies buried deep in their subconscious. The name they are given, usually by their parents, is the only name most people will ever know. But this is a name that can be used against them, so sorcerers must take a third name to protect themselves.
And so Stephanie Edgley became Valkyrie Cain, and she started on the road to becoming an Elemental-- she started to learn magic.
Valkyrie sneaked behind her house, stood directly beneath her window, and concentrated. Until a few weeks ago, she had needed a ladder to climb to her room, but every lesson with Skulduggery gave her more control over her powers.
She took her time, felt the calmness flow through her. She flexed her fingers, feeling the air touch her skin, feeling the fault lines between the spaces. She felt how they connected, and recognized how each would affect the other once the right amount of pressure was applied. . . .
31
She splayed her hands beneath her, and the air rippled and she shot upward, just managing to grab the windowsill. She still missed it occasionally, but she was getting better. She opened the window and, grunting with exertion, pulled herself through. Moving as quietly as she could, she closed the window behind her and turned on the light.
She ignored the girl who sat up in her bed, the girl who was an exact replica of herself. She went to the door, put her ear to it, and listened. Satisfied that her parents were sound asleep, Valkyrie shrugged off her coat as her replica stood up.
"Your arm," it said. "It's bruised."
"Had a little run-in with a bad guy," Valkyrie answered, keeping her voice low. "How was your day?"
"School was okay. I did all the homework, except the last math question. I didn't know how to do that. Your mum made lasagna for dinner."
Valkyrie kicked off her boots. "Nothing strange happened?"
"No. A very normal day."
"Good."
"Are you ready to resume your life?"
"I am."
32
It nodded, went to the full-length mirror and stepped through, then turned and waited. Valkyrie touched the glass, and a day's worth of memory flooded into her mind as the reflection changed, the clothes Valkyrie was wearing appearing on it, and then it was nothing more than a reflected image in a mirror.
She sifted through the new memories, arranging them beside the memories she'd formed on her own. There had been a careers class in school. The teacher had tried to get them to declare what they wanted to be when they left school, or at least what they'd like to study in college. Nobody had any idea, of course. The reflection had stayed quiet too.
Valkyrie thought about this. She didn't really need a regular career, after all. She was set to inherit Gordon's estate and all his royalties when she turned eighteen anyway, so she'd never be short of money. Besides, what kind of career would interest her outside of magic?
If she'd been in that class, she knew what she would have answered. Detective. That would have garnered a few sniggers around the room, but she wouldn't have minded.
The main difference between her and her
33
friends was not the magic, nor was it the adventure. It was the fact that she knew
That all changed when Nefarian Serpine murdered her uncle. Gordon was a best-selling novelist, a writer of horror and fantasy, but he was also a man who knew the Big Secret. He knew about the subculture of sorcerers and mages, about the quiet little wars they had fought. He knew about the Faceless Ones-- the terrible dark gods, exiled from this world-- and the people who wanted them to return.
In the days that followed, she had met the Skeleton Detective and learned that she had a
30
bloodline that could be traced back to the world's first sorcerers, the Ancients. She was also faced with taking a new name. Everyone, Skulduggery had told her, has three names: the name they are born with, the name they are given, and the name they take. The name they are born with, their true name, lies buried deep in their subconscious. The name they are given, usually by their parents, is the only name most people will ever know. But this is a name that can be used against them, so sorcerers must take a third name to protect themselves.
And so Stephanie Edgley became Valkyrie Cain, and she started on the road to becoming an Elemental-- she started to learn magic.
Valkyrie sneaked behind her house, stood directly beneath her window, and concentrated. Until a few weeks ago, she had needed a ladder to climb to her room, but every lesson with Skulduggery gave her more control over her powers.
She took her time, felt the calmness flow through her. She flexed her fingers, feeling the air touch her skin, feeling the fault lines between the spaces. She felt how they connected, and recognized how each would affect the other once the right amount of pressure was applied. . . .
31
She splayed her hands beneath her, and the air rippled and she shot upward, just managing to grab the windowsill. She still missed it occasionally, but she was getting better. She opened the window and, grunting with exertion, pulled herself through. Moving as quietly as she could, she closed the window behind her and turned on the light.
She ignored the girl who sat up in her bed, the girl who was an exact replica of herself. She went to the door, put her ear to it, and listened. Satisfied that her parents were sound asleep, Valkyrie shrugged off her coat as her replica stood up.
"Your arm," it said. "It's bruised."
"Had a little run-in with a bad guy," Valkyrie answered, keeping her voice low. "How was your day?"
"School was okay. I did all the homework, except the last math question. I didn't know how to do that. Your mum made lasagna for dinner."
Valkyrie kicked off her boots. "Nothing strange happened?"
"No. A very normal day."
"Good."
"Are you ready to resume your life?"
"I am."
32
It nodded, went to the full-length mirror and stepped through, then turned and waited. Valkyrie touched the glass, and a day's worth of memory flooded into her mind as the reflection changed, the clothes Valkyrie was wearing appearing on it, and then it was nothing more than a reflected image in a mirror.
She sifted through the new memories, arranging them beside the memories she'd formed on her own. There had been a careers class in school. The teacher had tried to get them to declare what they wanted to be when they left school, or at least what they'd like to study in college. Nobody had any idea, of course. The reflection had stayed quiet too.
Valkyrie thought about this. She didn't really need a regular career, after all. She was set to inherit Gordon's estate and all his royalties when she turned eighteen anyway, so she'd never be short of money. Besides, what kind of career would interest her outside of magic?
If she'd been in that class, she knew what she would have answered. Detective. That would have garnered a few sniggers around the room, but she wouldn't have minded.
The main difference between her and her
33
friends was not the magic, nor was it the adventure. It was the fact that she knew
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