Bedlam

by Derek Landy

  And then Mr Lilt stepped out, waving his hand, and Omen flew backwards. He hit the ground and rolled, tried to get up, but the air was pressing down on him, impossibly heavy. Omen stopped fighting and lay there, struggling to breathe.

  First Wave crowded round him.

  “There are seven of you,” Lilt said, his voice quiet. “Seven of the most ruthless students I could find in Corrival Academy. Seven. And you couldn’t stop one measly, insignificant little nobody. You couldn’t stop Omen Darkly.”

  No one in First Wave responded.

  “I thought I’d recruited the best and the brightest,” Lilt continued. “I assured Lethe, I assured Abyssinia, that the students I had picked were destined for greatness. They were worthy to stand by our side in the war to come. But to look at you now, as you scramble and flail and panic in your attempts to apprehend quite possibly the worst student I have ever had the misfortune to teach … I am disappointed. I am dismayed. He has made a fool of you, and I am ashamed to be your teacher.”

  The pressure keeping Omen down vanished, and he gasped in relief.

  “Pick him up,” Lilt said. “Try at least to do that right.”

  Valkyrie was feeling good.

  She’d slept like the dead for close to twenty hours, and woken to a dozen missed calls and Militsa banging on her front door. She couldn’t answer half of the questions that she’d been bombarded with – she only had a vague memory of finding the soul fragment, and couldn’t remember at all how she’d left the Necropolis. All she knew was that when she got home she must have fed the dog and opened the music box, because it was still playing when Militsa arrived.

  And now she was driving into Roarhaven, singing along to the radio and waving at Cleavers as she passed.

  She’d done it. She had everything she needed to fix her sister. The Soul Catcher was safely tucked away in the secret room, back in Grimwood House. According to Doctor Nye, all she had to do was break it near to where Alice lay and the fragments would find her and sort themselves out.

  And then Valkyrie was going to take some time off.

  Nobody knew how Alice was going to react to having a fully functioning soul again, so Valkyrie needed to be there for her, for whatever she needed. Skulduggery would understand. He’d partner up with Temper again, and they’d handle this Crepuscular Vies thing and this Abyssinia thing and, by the time Valkyrie was ready to come back, everything would be cool.

  She parked underneath the High Sanctuary. She had intended to head straight up, but instead went to the back of the car. The boot sprang open. The music box sat there, nestled in her gym bag. She opened the lid.

  That tune, smoothing out her thoughts, hushing all her anxieties … She didn’t know what she’d ever done without it, she really didn’t.

  Valkyrie shook her head, and laughed to herself. She couldn’t just stand here all day. She had people to talk to. She closed the lid, then took off her jacket and draped it over the box. It was always the perfect temperature in the High Sanctuary.

  She took the whirling, twirling tiles up to the foyer. Skulduggery wasn’t there and she couldn’t see Cerise so she told the guy at the huge marble desk that the Supreme Mage was expecting her, and off she went, wandering towards the elevators.

  China and Skulduggery were supposed to be in the Room of Prisms, with all those wonderfully shiny slivers of glass that hung from the ceiling. And the throne, of course. But they weren’t.

  “Hello?” Valkyrie called out. Nope. No one.

  She grinned.

  Quickly, she climbed the steps and sat on the throne. Nice view from up here. All those slivers of glass made it impossible for anyone to sneak up. Kind of a paranoid feature, but China didn’t get where she was today by embracing a casual lifestyle.

  Valkyrie dug into her pocket for her phone to send a selfie to Militsa – then remembered that her phone, and her wallet and her amulet, were in her jacket, back in the car. She shrugged, got up and left the room, nodding to the Cleavers standing guard on the other side.

  She finally found someone who would answer a simple question, and was told that Skulduggery and China had been last seen strolling along one of the corridors.

  She found them, deep in conversation, and ran up.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said, smiling.

  China raised an eyebrow. “Tardiness is not like you – but Skulduggery tells me you’ve been quite busy lately on a personal project.”

  “I have,” Valkyrie said. “But it’s just about finished now.”

  “That is good news,” said China, “because I’m going to need all your focus, I’m afraid. Both of you.”

  “You have another case for us to work on?” Skulduggery asked. “We’re not even finished with the one we have now.”

  “I’m sure you can handle one more,” China said. “I need you to find a traitor in our ranks.”

  Valkyrie made a face. “We have a new traitor? After Tipstaff? This is getting silly. If you can’t trust a sprawling organisation full of centuries-old killers, then who can you trust, I ask you?”

  China didn’t react – not even an unamused twitch of one of her perfect eyebrows. She was angry. She was, in fact, furious. It was a cold fury, and it radiated outwards. Valkyrie could feel it from where she stood. Not even Skulduggery seemed to appreciate the joke. He hadn’t even reacted.

  “What did this traitor do?” Valkyrie asked, trying to be more serious.

  “They passed top-secret information to the enemy,” China replied. “Beyond top secret. The good news is that the suspect list will be short. There is a very limited number of people who even know Greymire Asylum exists, never mind where it is.”

  Valkyrie’s good mood vanished.

  “What happened?” Skulduggery asked quietly.

  “Caisson and Abyssinia broke into the place,” said China, “and left with one of the patients.”

  “Who?”

  “You don’t need to know that.”

  “If we don’t have all the facts—”

  “Just find the traitor!” China snapped, then immediately calmed herself. “That’s all you need to do. Who they set free is not relevant. I’ll give you whatever resources you need, but you have to—”

  “It was me,” Valkyrie said.

  China turned to her slowly. “What?”

  “They took the old woman in the tower, didn’t they? In K-49.”

  China’s blue eyes travelled from Valkyrie to Skulduggery and back again.

  Valkyrie stood up straighter. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry,” China said softly.

  “Skulduggery had nothing to do with it,” Valkyrie said. He started to protest, but she cut him off. “Skulduggery, no. It was my decision.”

  A strand of China’s hair fell out of place and brushed lightly across her forehead. “You’re sorry,” she repeated.

  “Caisson had information I needed,” Valkyrie said. “He promised me he would free one patient and only one, and that no one would be hurt. Was anyone hurt?”

  China shook her head.

  “Good,” said Valkyrie. “I’m sorry, China. I am. I knew the location was supposed to be kept a secret, but I didn’t have any other choice. I’m prepared to accept whatever punishment you hand out.”

  China nodded, pressed a point on the back of her hand. A sigil glowed briefly on her skin, then faded, and two Cleavers appeared.

  China looked at them, then at Valkyrie. “Arrest her.”

  They came forward and took hold of Valkyrie’s arms. Skulduggery stepped in to push them away.

  “Don’t,” Valkyrie said. “Skulduggery, please.”

  He hesitated, then backed off as the shackles locked round her wrists. Her magic dulled. The world got smaller.

  “China,” he said, “you can’t do this. You’ve fought beside her. You know she’d never do anything like this unless she absolutely had to.”

  China ignored him. “Get her out of my sight,” she said, and they hauled Va
lkyrie away.

  Mr Lilt didn’t say anything as he brought Omen before Abyssinia. Omen was glad about that. It went against his nature to curse at a teacher, but with Lilt he reckoned he would have made an exception.

  Abyssinia stood in the control room, looking out on to Coldheart Prison with her back to them.

  “I have him,” Lilt announced. “First Wave were underwhelming in their—”

  Lilt suddenly groaned, his hands going to his head. Omen watched as he paled, as his legs buckled, as he fell to his knees.

  “I am vexed,” Abyssinia said without turning. “I am … irked. One might even go so far as to say I am irate.”

  Lilt curled up into a moaning, groaning ball. Omen would have run off if there was anywhere to run off to.

  Abyssinia turned. “You. Boy. Do you know the American president?”

  Omen wasn’t trying to be cheeky, but even so he found himself saying, “Personally?”

  Abyssinia didn’t explode his brain. She just looked at him without really looking at him. “Do you know of him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thoughts?”

  “He … doesn’t come across as a very nice man.”

  “He’s not,” Abyssinia said. “He’s not a very nice man at all. I want to kill him. Usually, when I want to kill someone, I kill them and immediately feel better. But he needs to stay alive in order to do what I tell him. That annoys me.”

  Right then, that precise moment, was not the time to be an amateur detective. Asking clumsy questions would only get him killed. And yet, Omen knew, if Skulduggery or Valkyrie or Auger were in his position, they’d find some clever way of interrogating Abyssinia without her even realising it.

  “What did you tell him to do?” Omen asked.

  That was a mistake. He knew that immediately. Abyssinia’s gaze flickered and she noticed him now.

  “You were there,” she said, “in Cadaverous Gant’s house, when I found my son.”

  “I was,” said Omen, giving a nervous smile. “How is he? Is he feeling better?”

  She ignored him, and Lilt got up slowly.

  “Apologies, Abyssinia,” he said. “I should not have walked in unannounced. I merely wished to bring the boy. I shall now take him to his cell.”

  Abyssinia didn’t respond, and Lilt grabbed Omen and dragged him out. It gave Omen a little burning nugget of satisfaction, deep in his soul, to have seen his self-important teacher being dismissed so casually.

  They went down some steps and across one of the tiers. Omen peeked over the edge. It was a long way down.

  Lilt threw him into a cell and closed the door and walked away without speaking.

  Omen took out his phone.

  “You really think it’d be that easy?” Jenan said, appearing on the other side of the bars. He was wearing a black uniform and polished black boots. “Hand it over, fatso.”

  “I’m not fat.”

  “Hand it over, or I’ll call you worse names than that.”

  Omen hesitated, but he finally gave his phone to Jenan.

  “Oh, this is a nice one,” Jenan said. “This is a really good one,” and then he tossed it over his shoulder and it dropped behind the barrier and fell all the way down.

  Omen sagged. All his contacts were in that phone.

  “How scared are you feeling right now?” Jenan asked. “You must be terrified. Petrified. Your little mind must be racing with all the terrible things we’re probably going to do to you.” He leaned his head against the bars. “See, I did want to kill you. I mean, that’s all I wanted. But then I realised there are way worse things to do to you than just, like, ending your suffering.”

  Omen shook his head. “Why me, man?”

  “You interfered,” said Jenan. “You spied on us.”

  “No,” Omen said, “I mean before that. Before all this. What did I ever do to you that made you hate me so much?”

  “You existed.”

  “That’s it? That’s your sole motivation? You were a bully and I was your victim?”

  “You’re everyone’s victim, Darkly. You’re weak and pathetic and pointless. You’re a pointless person.”

  “And there’s nothing more to it than that?”

  Jenan sneered. “There doesn’t have to be.”

  “I suppose not. Though it is kind of disappointing.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it, if I were you. You’ve got other things to think about. You like movies, don’t you?”

  “Uh … sure.”

  “You know in movies, when there’s a twist at the end that you don’t see coming? Like, Oh my God, I can’t believe he was the bad guy all along!, that kind of thing? Well, there’s a twist coming for you, too. Want to know what it is?”

  “Wouldn’t that spoil the twist?”

  Jenan laughed. “The twist’s not for you, you idiot. It’s for everyone else. But it’s funnier if you know it ahead of time, because then you get to think about it, and fully absorb what it means before it actually happens. So do you want to know Abyssinia’s big plan?”

  “Sure.”

  Jenan’s grin got wider. “OK, cool. So, this whole thing, right, is about a war. Abyssinia wants to start a war between sorcerers and mortals and then, basically, rule the world. With me so far, Darkly?”

  “I’m just about managing to keep up, yes.”

  “Good boy. She’s got Martin Flanery involved in this, too. Or he thinks he’s involved. From what I’ve heard, he’s got no idea what’s in store for him, but I don’t really care about any of that. I care about how this all starts. Tell me, Darkly, do you want to know how the war is going to start?”

  “Sure.”

  “It starts with us,” said Jenan, tapping his chest. “First Wave. We’re going to do a whole new Pearl Harbour.”

  “What?”

  “Pearl Harbour,” said Jenan. “You remember Pearl Harbour, right? It was one of Mr Lilt’s favourite topics to teach. Good God, Darkly, were you not paying attention to anything in school?”

  Omen shrugged. “It just didn’t seem relevant.”

  “Well,” said Jenan, “it’s relevant now. Do you know what World War Two was? You remember being told about that? See, the war was going on, but America was staying out of it. The American people just weren’t motivated enough to get involved, you know? Then the Japanese targeted an American naval base in Pearl Harbour. Surprise attack. Sank ships, killed loads … They even made a movie about it. It’s great. Anyway, this riled up the American people so much that the USA finally joined the war effort. And that’s what we’re going to do.”

  Omen stared. “Abyssinia is going to attack Pearl Harbour?”

  “Not Pearl Harbour, you moron. It doesn’t have to actually be Pearl Harbour to be another Pearl Harbour.”

  “I don’t … I don’t understand.”

  Jenan sighed. “You’re so incredibly dumb. You make me dumber just by talking to you. Nero’s going to teleport us to another American naval base, OK? Naval Magazine Whitley is a small base in Oregon, with only two dozen mortals stationed there – and we’re going to kill them all. Isn’t that cool? It’s going to be … I mean, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s going to be amazing. It’s going to be the best night of my life. Can you imagine it?”

  Jenan’s eyes were alive with the thought. They gleamed.

  “This’ll be … this will change the world. The mortals are going to have camera footage of evil young people with horrifying powers killing their proud soldiers and sailors like they were nothing … And, you know, they’ll have you.”

  Jenan leered. “They’ll have you, Omen. You’ll be wearing our uniform, but you’ll have been injured by one of their soldiers so, unfortunately, we’ll have to leave you behind. Maybe I’ll be the one who gets to shoot you. I hope it’s me. I’ve asked, and Mr Lilt said yes, but you know how things go. Anyway – that’s the twist. We frame you.

  “Isn’t that cool? You get hauled away by the mortals and for a few days they have
a real-life sorcerer to photograph, and maybe do some really painful tests on – and then we’ll teleport in and kill you when you’re alone in your jail cell. Providing the mortals haven’t beaten you to death by then, which is a real possibility.

  “So then America will, like, go nuts. And the rest of the world will go nuts. And, when the panic rises to the perfect level, President Flanery will discover where the American Sanctuaries are – and he’ll bomb the crap out of them.” Jenan’s voice quivered with excitement. “He’s going to bomb his own country. He’s, like, already agreed to it. Can you believe it? It’s going to be insane.”

  “And that’s the big plan,” Omen said quietly.

  “That’s it. And you play such a big part in it. Until the war kicks off, you will be the most famous person in the world. The most hated person in the world.”

  Valkyrie sat and waited. The shackles were on too tight. They chafed her wrists and bit into her ankles. She’d only been a criminal for a few hours and already she was hating it.

  A door beeped. She watched Skulduggery come in. He sat on the other side of the glass. This was just like in the movies, except they didn’t need phones to talk.

  “I need to get out of here,” she said.

  His head tilted. “You’re the one who confessed.”

  “Yeah, because my whole life people have been telling me that honesty is the best policy, but guess what?”

  “People lied to you.”

  “People lied to me. If I’d known she’d throw me in a jail cell, I wouldn’t have said anything. Why didn’t you stop me?”

  “This is my fault?”

  “You should have interrupted me or distracted me or kicked my shin or something. I didn’t know how mad she’d be. I’ve never seen her that angry. Well, I’ve never seen her that angry at me. Can you talk to her? I need to get out of here. I’m this close to fixing Alice.”

  “China isn’t really speaking to me at the moment. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Can you spend a night here?”