“Even the Brides of Blood Tears need to occasionally shop for supplies,” said Frightening. “This is the transport they have arranged for themselves. It travels at over two hundred kilometres per hour and cannot deviate from its course. I am told the journey to its endpoint will take nine hours.”
Valkyrie stared. “So we sit on that thing for nine hours, travelling at a ridiculous speed, and then we have to walk for another seven hours? How is that practical?”
[…]
For the first time she noticed how cold she was, and she tightened her grip on Skulduggery’s arm and he held up his hand, deflecting the air around them.
Valkyrie gasped in the sudden quiet. Skulduggery’s face settled into position, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Enough fun for you?”
“My skin stings,” she said.
“You’ve just had sand blasted at you at two hundred kilometres per hour. I’m not surprised your skin stings. You should have worn your mask.”
“You could have told me that at the start.”
“Then how will you learn?”
They hurtled down another dune. Below them, around them, the sand was dark. Above them, a vast sky with countless stars.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.
“It has its moments.”
Valkyrie awoke with her head resting on Skulduggery’s shoulder and, even before she’d opened her eyes, the world was bright and hot and harsh.
She sat up a little straighter, cracked her eyelids. The dark dunes beneath had become golden, and the countless stars were now hidden behind a sky of perfect blue. The seat slowed as it came to the top of a dune and the moment Skulduggery stopped deflecting the air the heat closed in on Valkyrie like a fist.