Bedlam

by Derek Landy

  “Likewise,” said Tanith. “Do you know why we’re here?”

  “Not a clue. She’s being all mysterious.”

  “I’ve seen that happen,” Tanith said, nodding. “She gets it from Skulduggery.”

  “Really?” Valkyrie said without turning. “I always thought he got it from me.”

  They arrived in the East Wing. This part of the museum was a lot less spacious than Valkyrie remembered, and now resembled a cosy old antiques shop, every surface packed with curious oddities.

  “They’re refitting one of the other wings,” Militsa explained as they squeezed between exhibits. “Everything in there is now in here. It’s a bit of a mess, to be honest. What are we looking for?”

  Valkyrie stopped before the glass case in which stood a mannequin wearing the necronaut suit.

  There were two layers to it. The outer layer was a frayed, burnt, torn fabric – but it was covering something else. Something black. It had a hood, and a mask – a white skull, stylised, angular, with glass-covered eye sockets.

  “This is what I need,” Valkyrie said.

  Militsa nodded, and looked around. “What is?”

  “This.”

  “The mannequin?”

  “The mannequin? Why would I need the mannequin? No. The suit.”

  “What’s so special about it?” Tanith asked.

  “It’s designed for Deep Venturing,” Valkyrie told her. “Necromancers would go exploring the realms of death and they’d wear a necronaut suit like this to protect themselves. They wouldn’t need food, wouldn’t need water, wouldn’t need air …”

  “So you put this on and you can just walk into the Necropolis?”

  “Yep.”

  “OK. That’s pretty cool.”

  None of this was computing for Militsa. “But it’s … I mean, it’s part of the museum. They’re not going to just give it to you.”

  “I think Valkyrie means to steal it,” Tanith whispered.

  “Oh,” Militsa responded, her eyes widening. “Oh. Right. Wow.”

  A lady walked by. “The museum is closing now,” she said with a smile.

  They smiled back. When she was gone, Valkyrie turned to Militsa. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Militsa said. “On the one hand, it goes against absolutely everything inside me. All my little nerve endings are screaming, No, no, don’t steal from a museum!” Militsa laughed uneasily. “But on the other hand …”

  “On the other hand,” Valkyrie prompted, “you’d do anything to make me happy …?”

  “I would,” Militsa said. “I totally would. Well, almost. It’s just, the two of you, you’re used to this sort of thing. You break the rules, you break the law, you go rogue and do cool stuff … but that’s not me. I’m the one who thinks that rules are actually a pretty good idea, and the world would be better off if more of us respected them and, you know, just did what they told us.”

  “But the rules won’t let me use the suit,” Valkyrie pointed out. “So the rules aren’t perfect, are they?”

  “I never said they were,” Militsa countered. “They’re just better than the alternative.”

  “Look at it this way,” said Tanith. “The rules hold most people in check. Those that the rules don’t hold in check, Valkyrie goes after. She finds them, beats them up, and throws them in a cell.”

  “Bit simplistic,” Valkyrie murmured.

  “But there will always be those people who are too far gone and, when they appear, the good guys like Valkyrie need to be able to transcend the rules in order to go after them. And sometimes it’s not even a person. Sometimes it’s a circumstance. Sometimes it’s a weird suit behind a glass case in a museum that smells of dead things and disinfectant.”

  “I need your help with this,” Valkyrie said. “And I know I’m asking a lot. I know how much you hate this kind of thing. But … please?”

  “Even the thought of breaking the rules makes me feel sick,” Militsa said. “And, since I feel like I’m about to throw up, I suppose that means I’m in.”

  Valkyrie squeezed her hand. “You’re the best.”

  “We should probably continue this discussion away from here,” Tanith said, eyeing the museum lady, who was on her way back.

  They went to the restaurant across the street, sat at the window and huddled close.

  “The security system is pretty standard for sorcery museums,” Militsa told them. “The doors and windows are alarmed, each individual exhibit is alarmed, the floor is electrified and the air is mined.”

  Valkyrie tapped her finger against her chin. “Repeat that last part for me?”

  “The floor is electrified and the air is mined,” said Militsa. “Once the building is locked up, if any movement is detected, these tiny, microscopic mines are released and they, basically, float through the air. If you hit one and it goes off, you’d barely notice more than a spark and a slight sting. But the mines work by setting off the other mines around them, so instead of one mine and a slight sting, you get a thousand mines and your head explodes.”

  “That seems elaborate,” said Tanith. “What if there are mice? What if mice set them off?”

  “There are no mice,” said Militsa, and looked sad. “Any more.”

  Tanith made a face. “Harsh.”

  “I don’t suppose bringing an Elemental with us would help?” Valkyrie asked.

  “The mines were introduced to stop Elementals,” said Militsa. “Any manipulation of the air currents results in detonation.”

  “Could we prevent the mines from being released in the first place?” Tanith asked.

  “Probably,” said Militsa. “If we had the time and the resources, not to mention the know-how.”

  Tanith looked at Valkyrie. “Do we have any of those things?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Valkyrie said.

  “Damn.”

  “Although …” Militsa said.

  Valkyrie leaned forward. “Yes?”

  “The security system is controlled by a series of sigils,” Militsa said. “I saw one carved on the wall in the East Wing, just before the entrance to the Haitian exhibits. These sigils will be linked to a larger master sigil, in a secure location. If we set one of these off, the master sigil will instigate the security countermeasures.”

  “You’re dumbing this down for me, aren’t you?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  Militsa continued. “But, if I can get to the sigil in the East Wing before it goes off, I can possibly delay the signal.”

  “And stop the mines from being released,” Tanith said triumphantly. “Which was my plan.”

  Valkyrie ignored her. “What about the electrified floor?”

  “When it detects us, we’ll have about two seconds before we’re fried to three very cute crisps. But that’s electronic, I’m afraid – I haven’t a clue how to deactivate that.”

  “Then we’ll stay off the floor,” Valkyrie said. “OK then. I think we have the makings of a plan.”

  Militsa paled. “We’re doing this tonight? But … I can’t! I need time to prepare. I need a high-quality heat pen to do the carving, and I need to practise, and – and …”

  Valkyrie gripped her hand. “A wise man once said to me, Doers do. Triers try. Those who can’t don’t bother, and those who don’t bother never will.”

  They both frowned at her.

  “Forget it,” Valkyrie said, sitting back. “I just made that up. I thought it would sound deep, but I should have thought it through a little more, and maybe made it rhyme. It’s stupid. But the central point remains.”

  “What central point would that be?” Militsa asked.

  Valkyrie pressed her hands together. “Please,” she said. “Please, please, please.”

  Militsa sighed. “Maybe I could manage it …”

  “Yes! I knew it! I knew you could!”

  “Don’t get too excited, OK? If I can get a heat pen, then I mig
ht know a way to possibly delay the release of the mines, if we’re lucky.”

  Valkyrie grinned. “If, might, possibly, and another if. I don’t know about you girls, but I’m feeling confident.”

  “I’m not,” said Militsa. “At all.”

  “Me neither,” said Tanith.

  “We should form a squad,” Valkyrie said. “Just the three of us. It’d be so cool, wouldn’t it?” She nodded. “This is going to work.”

  “No, it’s not,” Militsa said. “We’re all going to die.”

  Valkyrie pointed at her. “And now we have our battle cry.”

  The darkness swirled around them, and when it whipped back to Militsa they were standing in the East Wing of the museum.

  Tanith sprang for the ceiling, flipping as she did so to land on her feet. Militsa scrambled on to the nearest table and Valkyrie jumped on to a cabinet. A moment later, the floor started to crackle with blue-white electricity. It was actually quite pretty.

  Militsa stepped to the edge of the table and leaned against the wall dangerously.

  “Careful,” Valkyrie warned.

  “I’m fine,” Militsa said, heat pen in hand, already working on the sigil.

  “How will we know when it’s working?” Tanith asked.

  “Not sure,” Militsa answered. “We won’t die, I guess. You guys should probably do your bit.”

  Still walking upside down on the ceiling, Tanith hurried over to Valkyrie and Valkyrie jumped and grabbed her hands. They took a moment to make sure the grip was secure.

  “Ready,” Valkyrie said.

  Tanith took a step along the ceiling, and Valkyrie left the cabinet behind her. She hung, swaying, over the crackling floor. It was an unsettling sensation.

  Slowly, Tanith carried her down the row of exhibits, her muscles straining. They got to the glass case.

  “Here comes the tricky part,” Tanith muttered.

  Valkyrie took a deep breath, and as she let it out she raised her legs. Her foot tapped against Tanith’s wrist. Once. Twice. On the third tap, Tanith released Valkyrie’s left hand and grabbed her left ankle instead. Valkyrie hung there.

  “I’m good,” said Tanith.

  Valkyrie crunched her abdomen as her right foot tapped Tanith’s other wrist, so that when Tanith let go of her hand to grab her other ankle, Valkyrie stayed curled, stayed in control.

  Slowly, she straightened her body.

  “How’s it going?” Militsa called.

  “I’m hanging upside down,” Valkyrie called back, feeling her face darken as the blood rushed to her head. “How are those silly little mines?”

  “Staying put for the moment.”

  Valkyrie slid her lock pick from her pocket, and went to work on the case. It was tricky, doing this upside down, but the last tumbler fell into place and the glass door opened with a light click.

  Tanith moved her closer and Valkyrie reached for the mannequin.

  “Uh,” said Militsa.

  Valkyrie frowned. “Everything OK?”

  “Um.”

  “Militsa,” Tanith said, the strain evident in her voice. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “It’s not working as well as I’d hoped,” Militsa said. “I think we have … We don’t have long. Get back here now.”

  “I almost have it,” said Valkyrie.

  “Get back here!” Militsa commanded – and then they heard it, like the whir of an air conditioner: the mines were being released.

  Valkyrie looked up, straight into Tanith’s eyes. They weren’t going to make it.

  Valkyrie gripped the top of the case. “Go,” she said, and yanked her ankles out of Tanith’s hands. Her knees hit the top of the case, almost cracking the glass. Tanith was still looking down at her. “Run!” Valkyrie shouted.

  Tanith bolted along the ceiling and Valkyrie swung her legs down and dropped into the glass case, jostling for space with the mannequin. She grabbed the door, swung it shut, pulling her fingers in right before it clicked. She steeled herself for an explosion –

  – that didn’t come.

  Valkyrie stood there, waiting. Nothing happened, and that meant they’d made it. Tanith and Militsa had shadow-walked out of there. She wished she had enough room to take out her phone and check. She breathed out, and gave a little laugh. Now all she had to worry about was herself.

  There wasn’t enough space in here to do much, but Valkyrie managed to turn enough so that she could start to take the suit off the mannequin. Her fingers searched beneath the torn fabric, to the black material beneath. It felt a lot like the armoured clothes Ghastly had made for her. Slightly rougher, maybe.

  She tore the fabric away – it ripped easily, like tissue paper – but she couldn’t find a zip or buttons anywhere. Slowly, she moved her hands up, careful not to let her elbows nudge open the glass door.

  The hood seemed to be attached to the skull mask, which was smooth and hard. She tinked her fingernail on the glass over the eyes. Her fingers curled under the chin and found a seam, and she pulled the mask up and immediately it crumpled like cloth. The rigidity, the smoothness, was suddenly gone. She pulled the mask up further, and it disappeared into the hood, which she could now pull down off the mannequin’s head.

  Still no zip, though. Still no buttons.

  But she could feel something on the mannequin’s chest. She pulled away the grey fabric. Attached to the suit beneath was a brooch of dark metal, about the size of her palm, engraved with the same stylised skull as the mask. Valkyrie was almost sure it hadn’t been there when the hood was up.

  She tried to prise it off. It was cool to the touch, but wouldn’t budge. She pressed her thumb against it, hard, then tried turning it. She gazed at it for a few seconds, then a thought occurred to her and she tapped it, and the suit instantly withdrew into the brooch and the brooch fell off the mannequin – and Valkyrie snatched it.

  “Huh,” she said.

  The mannequin was now wearing the torn grey fabric and nothing beneath. Valkyrie turned the brooch over, examining its smooth underside. Not a brooch, she saw now.

  She slipped the amulet into her pocket. She could figure it out later. Right now, she had to get out of this case, and out of this museum, without being killed.

  First thing to overcome was the electrified floor. If Skulduggery was here, he’d just float across it like a well-dressed balloon – but Valkyrie’s flying style had more in common with a barely controlled missile than a balloon. But in theory – in theory – she could do it.

  In theory.

  Then there was the issue of the mines. That force-field thing she did, that would probably keep them at bay. But she’d have to maintain the force field while she flew, which is something she hadn’t had to do before.

  But again this was something that, theoretically, she was entirely capable of doing.

  At least until she lost her concentration. Once that happened, she’d drop to the floor and lose the force field at the same time, and then it’d be a race to see which security measure killed her first.

  But if she could keep her focus then a few seconds would be all that she’d need to get to the door. From there, maybe she could blast her way out. Maybe.

  Valkyrie nodded. So that was the plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but that’s pretty much how she lived her life. She’d give it a try, and improvise when it didn’t work out. She was OK with that.

  Placing her hand on the door, Valkyrie focused on the magic inside her. She felt it churning, and she brought it out. It expanded from her chest, passed through her skin until it was crackling all around her.

  Then she pushed open the glass door and jumped out and her magic expanded even further, enclosing her in a bubble of energy even as she felt the propulsion potential at her feet, that desperate need to burst upwards, to hurtle, and her fists clenched and her eyes squeezed shut as she fought that urge and just hovered there, unsteadily.

  Her breathing was shallow. Her insides were knotted. She was suddenly sweating
and she needed to pee so, so badly. But she stayed where she was, hanging in mid-air, until she could open her eyes.

  She could feel the mines all around her, pressing in against the force field, itching to find something physical within it that would set them off.

  Turning her body to the right, Valkyrie locked her eyes on the end of the aisle and, with a series of jerky starts, moved slowly towards the wall.

  Halfway there she crashed into a display stand, breaking the glass, sending the exhibits tumbling. She watched as the floor sizzled them down to charred embers. She muttered a “Sorry” and rebounded off and kept going.

  When she got to the wall, she again turned her body and again followed the next aisle. She got too close to a stack of undoubtedly valuable books and scorched the lot of them. When reaching out to steady herself, she knocked over an entire stand of presumably priceless artefacts. She misjudged a burst of speed and flew way too fast and had to rise up and flip over a display cabinet.

  She came down on the other side and put all her focus into staying still. Her eyes closed, her hands out for balance, her feet unsteady, Valkyrie reminded herself of someone trying to surf for the first time.

  When she felt that she was in control again, she propelled herself to the doorway, got there without wrecking anything else. The corridor beyond was long and straight.

  She set off. For a while, she did well, but by the time she reached the end she was ricocheting around like a pinball. She emerged, spinning slowly but uncontrollably over the reception desk. It was making her dizzy.

  There was a knocking. Someone was knocking on glass.

  Bit by bit, she turned round. Tanith and Militsa stared at her from the street on the other side of the window. Valkyrie waved, then wobbled, and decided not to wave again.

  Militsa indicated the force field, then mimed expanding it. It took Valkyrie a moment to figure out what she was proposing, and then she nodded quickly.

  Taking a deep breath, Valkyrie pushed herself up towards the ceiling, and let the force field grow. When there was enough room, she nodded again at the window, and the darkness wrapped itself around Militsa at the same time as a swirl of shadows appeared within the bubble, right beside Valkyrie.