Dublin City was quiet when they reached the Waxwork Museum, as if it was holding its breath.

Scapegrace leaped up. “I am the Killer Supreme! I make murder into an art form!” Skulduggery hit him again and Scapegrace did a little twirl before falling.

You have no idea about presents or what they mean. The last present you gave me was a stick.” “You wanted a weapon.” “It was a stick.” “It had a bow on it.” “It was a stick.” “I thought you liked the stick. You laughed.

It’s fairly standard. Also, I’m fourteen. Also, your beard’s stupid.” “Isn’t this fun?” Skulduggery said brightly. “The three of us getting along so well.

Well, to put it delicately, she has the power to suck out people's brains.

You said I was your number-one pick." "And you are. In our hearts. Alphabetically, though, Dusk comes before you.

The rain battered the cottage. Valkyrie risked a look up at Skulduggery. “What is it?” she whispered. “It’s a box,” he whispered back. “What kind of box?” “A wooden one.” She gave him a look.