Bedlam

by Derek Landy

  “It isn’t yours,” Skulduggery said. “You were right when you said it was broken. It is broken, but we can fix it. We can put it back where it belongs.”

  “You can’t just take a spirit.”

  “Actually,” Valkyrie said, “we can.”

  Skulduggery put the Soul Catcher on the table.

  Margaret frowned. “Who are you?”

  “That doesn’t matter,” he said. “We didn’t come here to cause you any distress, but we are going to take the spirit with us when we leave.”

  “Is that a crystal ball?” Margaret laughed. “No one uses a crystal ball any more.”

  “What’s your second name, Margaret?” Skulduggery asked.

  “Kennelly.”

  “Margaret Kennelly, don’t panic.”

  Margaret nodded, and smiled.

  “Margaret Kennelly, lie down on your couch.”

  “Why do you want me to do that?” Margaret asked as she got up and led the way into the living room. “Wait. What am I doing? How are you making me do this?”

  “Margaret Kennelly, don’t worry about it,” Valkyrie told her.

  Margaret lay on the couch, head on the cushions, hands by her side.

  Valkyrie switched on her aura-vision again. The two souls writhed as she held both hands over Margaret’s belly.

  “What do I do now?” she whispered.

  Skulduggery stood beside her. “You can see the souls, can’t you? Can you feel them?”

  Valkyrie frowned, concentrating on the tingling of her palms. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, there.”

  “Can you draw them to you?”

  “I don’t want to damage them. I don’t want to … disperse them.”

  “You’re not going to,” he said. “What happened to the ghost pirate was unfortunate, but it only happened because he wasn’t protected by a physical shell. Besides, you’re not using your lightning. You’re not scared. You’re calm. Feel the souls. Can you tell which one is Alice’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then draw it out to you.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s just because you haven’t done it before. Magic is all about doing the same things with different intent. Magic obeys. That’s why things go wrong when we panic, because we’re too confused to tell it what we need it to do. Your magic wants to help you, Valkyrie. Guide it.”

  The auras buzzed beneath her hands. Something connected them to her skin, like static electricity. Like magnetism. A finger twitched and the smaller aura twitched with it.

  Valkyrie breathed out so very slowly.

  This was going to take a while.

  It was another hour before she could create a gap between the souls. The smaller one responded easiest. That’s the one she wanted. That was the fragment.

  She raised her right hand – aching now – and brought the aura slowly with it. The first part of it passed through Margaret’s body, like a child’s drawing where they’d coloured outside the line. Margaret whimpered.

  “Margaret Kennelly, remain calm and feel no discomfort,” said Skulduggery.

  Valkyrie used her other hand now, to coax out more of the fragment. She turned both hands, curling her fingers ever so slightly, trapping the churning soul in the space between them.

  Higher, she went. Higher.

  The soul fragment broke free of Margaret’s physical shell and thrashed out of Valkyrie’s grip, spun in the air and then darted into the Soul Catcher that Skulduggery held out. It churned with a bright orange.

  Valkyrie slumped on to her back and blinked wearily at the ceiling.

  “Is it over?” Margaret asked. “Did you do it?”

  “She did,” Skulduggery said. “How are you feeling, Margaret?”

  “I … I think my connection to the spirit world is gone. I feel empty.”

  “The feeling will pass. You’re back to your old self.”

  “I’m very tired.”

  “Margaret Kennelly, go to sleep.”

  Margaret closed her eyes.

  Skulduggery helped Valkyrie up. She gazed into the Soul Catcher.

  “Hey, little sister,” she murmured.

  “I think you need a break,” Skulduggery said.

  “No. We have to go after the next one. Then it’ll all be over.”

  “Valkyrie, you need rest. You’re about to collapse. I’ll take you to Militsa’s, OK? Temper needs my help with something, so I’ll go off, help him and I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning and we’ll go straight to the Necropolis.”

  “Maybe a little sleep …”

  He took the Soul Catcher from her and scooped her up and she put her head against him and closed her eyes. She was aware of them leaving the house by the back door and rising into the air, and that was it.

  Temper found him on a bench beside Black Lake, throwing chunks of bread to the gathered ducks. “Hello, Adam,” Temper said, sitting beside him.

  “Pretend like you don’t know me,” Brate whispered. He still had his sunglasses on.

  Temper pulled his collar up. “Can we just get to it? It’s February, man. It’s cold.”

  A guy passed them, walking his dog, and Brate waited until both were out of earshot before talking again. “Where are Skulduggery and Valkyrie?”

  “On their way, but we don’t need to wait. You tell me, I can tell them.”

  “Naw, dude,” Brate said, shaking his head. “Like the song says, we’re all in this together. The Three Musketeers, right?”

  Temper sighed. “I guess.”

  A few minutes passed. Brate kept feeding the ducks and Temper kept shivering. Finally, Skulduggery appeared. Temper shuffled over to make room on the bench.

  Typically, Skulduggery stayed standing. “Hello, ducks,” he said as the ducks quacked around his feet.

  Brate glanced up at him and whispered, “Valkyrie not with you?”

  “Afraid not.”

  “She gonna join us later, or what?”

  “She’s busy on another case, Adam. We’ll have to make do without her.”

  Brate nodded. “That’s cool, that’s cool. Although I was hoping that it’d be all three of you here. Safer, you know? I mean, it’s not that I don’t feel safe around you guys, but, like … she’s Valkyrie Cain, you know? She’s done some things.”

  “Well,” said Skulduggery, “we’ve all done some things.”

  “Not like her, though.”

  “A bit like her.”

  “But she’s been to, like, the dark side, you know?”

  “Some of us are well acquainted with the dark side.”

  “Not really, though.”

  “Actually,” Temper said, “I agree with Adam. Valkyrie is intimidating.”

  Skulduggery tilted his head. “I’m intimidating.”

  “Oh, yeah, you are – but not like her. One time I made her smile and I immediately shut up for the rest of the day in case I went too far and she gave me one of her looks.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Skulduggery said. “I’m scarier than Valkyrie.”

  “Sorry, man, you’re not.”

  “I’m a living skeleton.”

  “And she can be quite blunt.”

  “I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” said Skulduggery. “I came back from the dead.”

  “And so did Valkyrie, didn’t she?”

  Skulduggery let a moment go by. “It’s not the same thing,” he said, and brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve. “Can we focus on why we’re here?”

  “Yeah, sure, OK,” said Brate. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, then covered his mouth with his hands and spoke. “So I think Creed is doing all this Activating stuff right here, in Roarhaven. Right in the Dark Cathedral, in fact.”

  Temper frowned at him. “What are you doing? What are you doing with your hands?”

  “Satellites, man,” Brate responded. “They got cameras on some satellites that can read your lips. Do what I do. See? Li
ke this.”

  “I can see what you’re doing, Adam. You’re right beside me.”

  “May we remind you,” said Skulduggery, “that you are not a spy.”

  “I know,” said Brate. “I know. But … I mean … precautions, dude. Please.”

  “Maybe we should …” Skulduggery murmured.

  Temper gave him a look. “What? Are you serious?”

  “In case someone is observing us through a long lens. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

  “You kidding me?”

  “We’ll all do it,” said Skulduggery.

  “Please?” said Brate. “I’ll feel a lot safer if we hide what we’re saying.”

  Temper glowered, and put one hand over his mouth. “Fine,” he said. “If we’re all doing it, then fine. You think Creed is doing the Activations from the Dark Cathedral, do you? Why?”

  Brate took another look around, then leaned closer, once again speaking through his fingers. “A friend of mine has a friend who works there. Nothing too glamorous, just cleaning up and stuff, unblocking the toilets, changing light bulbs and whatnot. This friend told my friend, and then he told me, that he’s heard these weird noises from the vents, coming up from the ground, you know? Screams and crying and then … silence.”

  “Your friend has heard silence?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what does silence sound like?”

  Brate frowned. “I don’t know. Quiet, I’d imagine.”

  “And you think this is Creed performing more Activations?” Skulduggery asked, his arms folded.

  “Hey,” said Temper, “hand over your mouth.”

  Skulduggery looked at him. “Why? I don’t have any lips to read.”

  Temper glared.

  “That’s right,” said Brate. “My friend says that his friend says that there’s this weird feeling in the air, like electricity but not electricity, this invisible thing that doesn’t affect anything, but it’s still there … He says it’s a bad feeling and, when the screaming and the crying stops, it goes away.”

  “I don’t know,” said Skulduggery. “As far as incriminating evidence goes, that isn’t much.”

  “Also,” Brate said, “he says there are people who go down into the lower levels and, like, don’t come back.”

  “That,” said Skulduggery, “is more interesting.”

  Brate nodded. “Or at least they don’t come back during his shift.”

  Skulduggery sighed.

  “Is that useful?” Brate asked.

  “It’s something,” said Temper, and looked up at Skulduggery. “It’s the only lead we have. And listen, we’re here, the Dark Cathedral is just down the street – what do you say we take a look?”

  “You’re suggesting we break in,” Skulduggery said.

  “Yes.”

  “I know a secret way!” Brate said, forgetting for a moment to hide his mouth. He squealed and covered up.

  “You know a secret way into the Dark Cathedral?” Temper asked.

  Brate nodded. “A tunnel into the lower levels, yes. I can’t go with you – if Arch-Canon Creed knew I was involved, he’d do awful, unspeakable things to me – but I can definitely show you where to go.”

  Temper raised an eyebrow at Skulduggery.

  “You’re an officer in the City Guard,” Skulduggery said, “and I’m an Arbiter, and you’re suggesting we commit a crime.”

  “What’s wrong?” Temper asked. “You’ve broken the law before.”

  “Yes,” Skulduggery said, “but it’s only fun when I suggest it.”

  “Do you want me to pretend that it’s your idea, or …?”

  “Forget it,” Skulduggery grumbled. “It sounds silly now. Let’s just break into the place.”

  Valkyrie woke. Took her a moment to figure out that she was in Militsa’s place. Took her a moment to remember why she was here.

  She sat up. Her body was heavy. Her muscles were useless and her eyes stung so much they hurt to open. She untangled her leaden feet from the bedcovers, set them on the floor.

  The door opened. Militsa came in, moving immediately to sit by her, arm round her shoulders.

  “Hey, no, back to bed. You need your sleep.”

  “I’ve had my sleep.”

  “You’ve barely had an hour of sleep. You’re exhausted, poppet. Look at you. You can barely open your eyes.”

  Valkyrie opened her eyes and smiled, made sure to keep any irritation out of her voice. “A good shower is what I need. I’m stinky, and my hair’s a mess.”

  “I’m not arguing with you there, but—”

  “Did Skulduggery tell you? About the soul fragment?”

  “You told me,” Militsa said. “He dropped you off and while I was putting you to bed, an hour ago, you told me all about the pirates and the mermaids and the soul fragments …”

  “I told you about the mermaids?”

  Militsa grinned. “Yes, you did. You don’t remember any of that, do you?”

  “Militsa, the last soul fragment – if we don’t get it in time, it could fuse with one of the ghosts in the Necropolis.”

  “Skulduggery mentioned that before he left,” Militsa replied. “He said it’s been there for six years. One more night will hardly make a difference.”

  “But it might,” said Valkyrie. “What if we get to it tomorrow, and we realise we were one day too late? That we were a few hours too late?”

  “Sweetie, come on …”

  “It’s a part of my sister. I can’t leave her there alone when I know where she is. I have to get her. I have to bring her back.”

  “I understand that,” said Militsa, “I do, but Skulduggery’s helping Temper with something and there isn’t a whole lot you can do without him, now is there? Go back to sleep. You’ll be bright and alert in the morning and you can get it then.”

  Valkyrie shook her head. “I don’t have to wait for Skulduggery.”

  “Yes, you do. You can’t walk into the Necropolis, Val. It’s for dead people only.”

  Valkyrie took her hand. “I have a plan. But I’m going to need your help.”

  “I don’t particularly like the sound of any of that.”

  “It’s a good plan.”

  “What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “If it’s such a good plan, why can’t you tell me?”

  “Because you probably won’t want to do it.”

  Militsa folded her arms. “That doesn’t sound like a good plan.”

  “It’s a very good plan. It’s very clever and totally safe.”

  “How illegal is it?”

  “Only mildly.”

  “Val, come on now, you know I don’t do illegal things.”

  “But it’s only mildly illegal,” said Valkyrie, “which means it’s barely illegal, which means it’s practically legal. What time is it?”

  “Just gone six.”

  “In the evening? That’s perfect! We’ll probably need Tanith’s help on this.” She grabbed her phone. “Are you in?”

  Militsa looked uncomfortable. “You’re going to do this tonight? I’ve got so much homework left to mark.”

  Valkyrie dialled Tanith’s number. “Militsa, please.”

  A sigh. “Fine.”

  “Thank you. I’m going to grab a shower. Do you have anything to eat?”

  “I’ll make you something,” Militsa said, resigned to her fate. She left the room as Tanith answered the call.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “I need your help,” said Valkyrie. “Can you get to Roarhaven in the next hour?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. Want me to bring my sword?”

  “No,” said Valkyrie. “I reckon this part should be pretty nonviolent.”

  “Ah,” said Tanith, “I’ll bring it anyway.”

  Valkyrie gave her the details and tapped the call off. She stood, took a step towards the bathroom and the world tilted and her legs gave out and she fell.

  “Val?” Militsa
called from downstairs. “Was that you? Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine,” Valkyrie called back. “Dropped my phone.”

  It wasn’t the best lie, but it didn’t provoke a further response from Militsa so it obviously did the job.

  Valkyrie lay on the bedroom floor, taking a moment to just give in to the exhaustion. She could have fallen asleep right there and then. It would be so easy.

  She counted to twenty.

  At twenty, she rolled sideways. Kept rolling, until she came to the dresser. She opened her drawer – the one at the bottom that Militsa had designated for Valkyrie’s stuff. It had been a big deal. Beneath the fresh set of clothes, a packet of dried leaves that dulled pain. Hidden between the leaves, a little square of paper with a sigil painted on it. A little Splash of magic.

  She wished she had the music box with her. It had been too long since she’d listened to that wonderful, wonderful tune, and her thoughts were growing edges.

  She shook her head. She didn’t have the music box. She had the Splash, and that would have to do.

  Valkyrie put it on her tongue. Felt it dissolve.

  Strength flooded her body. Her eyes widened, the light in the room flaring as she sat up with a gasp, every muscle knotted, her bones cracking. She sat like that until she regained control of herself, until she sank back, giggling.

  She sprang up. She felt good. Strong. Capable. Her magic jumped between her fingertips.

  She took a shower and washed her hair, then dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. A cup of tea was waiting for her beside a plate on which lay a massive sandwich. Her stomach rumbled.

  “Thank you,” she said, sitting at the table.

  “You’re looking brighter,” Militsa said.

  Valkyrie grinned. “I told you all I needed was a shower.”

  Tanith’s bike was parked outside the Museum of Magical History, and Valkyrie and Militsa met her inside, by the reception desk. The guy at the desk frowned at them.

  “This nice gentleman has been telling me that they’re about to close,” Tanith informed them with a strained smile.

  “We won’t be long,” Valkyrie promised, and walked quickly to the East Wing. “Tanith Low, this is Militsa Gnosis. She and I are a thing.”

  “Hello,” Militsa said, shaking Tanith’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”