First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollins Childrenâs Books in 2010
Reissued in this edition in 2017
HarperCollins Childrenâs Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
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London SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins website address is:
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Skulduggery Pleasant rests his weary bones on the web at:
www.skulduggerypleasant.co.uk
Derek Landy blogs under duress at
www.dereklandy.blogspot.com
Text copyright © Derek Landy 2011
Illuminated letters copyright © Tom Percival 2011
Skulduggery Pleasant logo>TM HarperCollinsPublishers
Skulduggery Pleasant © >TM Derek Landy
Cover design © blacksheep-uk.com
Cover illustration © Tom Percival
Derek Landy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
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Source ISBN: 9780007326037
Ebook Edition © ISBN: 9780007455430
Version: 2017-04-06
This book is dedicated to my nieces.
Girls, none of you were born when Skulduggery Pleasant first appeared. But since youâve arrived, no one in our family wants to talk about the writer any more. Now all they want to talk about are the damn babies. All of a sudden, no one wants to cuddle me, and for that I blame you.
But I suppose you have your good points. Itâs because of you that Valkyrie has a little sister, after all. Youâre all mildly cute, reasonably adorable, and you make me laugh when you fall over.
So this book is dedicated to you, Rebecca and Emily, Sophie and Clara and
(insert names of any more nieces or nephews that might sprout up between now and when theyâre old enough to read this).
I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I am your favourite uncle. And you probably prefer me to your parents, too.
(Iâve met your parents. I donât blame you. Theyâre rubbish.)
he closing door made the candlelight dance, waltzing and flickering over the girl strapped to the table. She turned her head to him. Her face, like every other part of her, was decorated with small, pale scars, symbols painstakingly carved into her flesh over the course of the last few months. Her name was Melancholia St Clair. She was his secret. His experiment. His last, desperate grasp for power.
âIt hurts,â she said.
Vandameer Craven, Cleric First Class of the Necromancer Order, esteemed Scholar of Arcane Languages and feared opponent on the debating battlefield, nodded and patted her hand. She had entered into this arrangement with the kind of zeal that only the truly greedy can muster, but recently her bouts of annoying self-pity were becoming more and more frequent. âI know, my dear, I know it does. But pain is nothing. Once our work is done, there will