“I can give you a sigil,” China said. “It can be both a distress call and a homing device.”
Valkyrie hesitated. “Sure,” she said. “So long as it can’t track me without my knowing.”
China tapped her forefinger and it began to glow. “You can activate and deactivate it at will,” she said. “It’s a small sigil, easily concealable. Where do you want it?”
Valkyrie sat again and leaned back, hooked a thumb into the waistband of her jeans and pulled it down to her hipbone. China got to her knees and pressed her fingernail into Valkyrie’s skin. It was hot, very hot, but not entirely unpleasant.
“Why did he really quit as City Guard Commander?” Valkyrie asked as China worked. “What did he do? What did you do?”
China focused on the tattoo she was carving and didn’t look up. “He felt his time here was at an end. I was sorry to see him go.”
Her fingernail curved around and then slashed backwards slightly. A dot here, a cross there. Incredibly intricate markings. No blood.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Valkyrie said.
“Some questions are not mine to answer.” China glanced up at her with those beautiful eyes. “Skulduggery has his reasons, Valkyrie. I might agree with some of them, I might disagree with others, but there’s no arguing with him. You know that.”
She went back to work. Moments later, she was done.
“It’s called an auxilium,” China said, straightening up. “It’s from a time when all sigils had a Latin name. What a dreary time that was. Anyway, tap it and I’ll know you’re in trouble and where to send assistance.”
The sigil was black and small, maybe a couple of centimetres in circumference. The skin sizzled a little, and a second later the tattoo faded away.
“Thanks,” Valkyrie said, and stood.