Bedlam

by Derek Landy

  The Sentinel. The spirits. The city.

  She landed, heavily, and stumbled to the front step. She patted her suit, searching for the door key. Cursing, she slapped the amulet on her chest. The suit retracted and the amulet fell. She ignored it, pulled the key from her jeans and turned it in the lock and the door opened and the Nemesis was there.

  Valkyrie ducked the sledgehammer, threw herself back, scrambling away as the Nemesis stepped out of the house and swung again.

  Valkyrie rolled, kicked at the Nemesis of Greymire’s leg and the Nemesis didn’t notice.

  She got up, fell, got up again, the Soul Catcher in her hands. Ran into the house. Up the stairs. Got to the top.

  But now the Nemesis was coming out of her bedroom and Valkyrie dived under the swing of the hammer, the Soul Catcher rolling across the floor, and Valkyrie lunged for the bedside table, managed to grab the music box as she fell. She hit the floor and opened the lid –

  – and the music flowed.

  She breathed out.

  Her body relaxed.

  The noise in her head went away.

  There was nobody in the doorway. No Nemesis in the house.

  Valkyrie reached across, scooped up the Soul Catcher and held it to her chest. Xena poked her head in and Valkyrie held out her hand, and the dog came over, wagging her tail happily.

  Love, Razzia often thought, was the stupidest of all emotions.

  It got in the way of just about everything there was to get in the way of. It ruined friendships and disrupted families and left a trail of trauma in its wake. Love made people do the dumbest of things for the dumbest of reasons – just because one synapse said to another synapse, Hey, let’s spark up and see what happens.

  Stupid. Just stupid.

  That didn’t mean that Razzia herself wasn’t prone to feeling this particular emotion. She wasn’t a robot, or a Hollow Man, or some kind of plant. She had feelings. Proper ones. She’d even fallen in love with a mortal, once upon a time. And what a mortal he had been. Big smile, flashy suits, total lunatic. It had got weird and she’d had to end it, but not before falling deeply, madly in love.

  So she understood why Caisson had asked for help to break Solace out of Greymire Asylum. He’d been married to her, after all, before being captured by Serafina. And she understood why Abyssinia had said yes to helping him. It was love, that pesky little creature, chucking a stick in the bicycle spokes of harmony. It was love, that look on Caisson’s face when they’d taken Solace from the tower. The pure kind of love, the kind that doesn’t fade.

  Solace herself was not what Razzia had been expecting. She’d imagined someone young and pretty and strong. She had not been expecting a frail old lady who looked like a stiff breeze could blow her off course.

  But such was love. There was no accounting for it.

  Razzia was in her quarters, feeding her pets, when Abyssinia turned up at the open door. She stayed there for a while, watching as the parasites snapped hungrily at the diced-up chicken. Then she came in, sat on the bed, smiling at Gretel, who by now was stealing some of Hansel’s dinner.

  When the plates were clean, the parasites retracted into Razzia’s hands and her palms closed up, and she felt them settle inside her forearms.

  “Caisson seems happy,” Abyssinia said.

  Razzia nodded.

  “I’m glad he has someone,” Abyssinia continued. “It’s important to have someone in your life. It gives you meaning. It gives you purpose.”

  Razzia nodded again. She knew exactly what Abyssinia was talking about.

  “For me, that person was Caisson,” Abyssinia said. “When I was in that box, just a heart, reaching out to you all, I tried reaching out to him as well, but … but he was always too far away. That was Serafina’s doing, of course. Blocking him from me. But I never stopped trying. When I finally saw my boy again after all these centuries … it was the happiest day of my life.”

  Abyssinia fell silent. Razzia waited.

  “Solace seems nice,” Abyssinia said.

  Razzia nodded. “For an old chick.”

  “Watch it, you. I’m a lot older.”

  “Naw,” said Razzia. “Age doesn’t work like that. Young bodies tend to have young minds. It’s all in the brain chemistry. Once those chemicals dry up, however, and you’re faced with the irreversible onslaught of years upon your physical form, you tend to surrender to the ravages of time. So, old bodies, old minds.”

  Abyssinia studied her for a bit. “You surprise me sometimes. I’ve looked inside your mind and I know you better than anyone … yet you still surprise me.”

  Razzia shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a surprising person.”

  Tanith met the tall streak of goodness in a bar on Charlotte Street, the kind of place where mortals got hammered and listened to good music through bad speakers. He walked in, scratching his stubble, looked around and saw her, sitting all the way at the back. He had a nice walk. His hair was dark, going grey, but lustrous. He had eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He smiled now as he shook her hand.

  “Oberon Guile,” he said.

  “Tanith Low.”

  “Pleased to meet you. Buy you a drink?”

  “Already have one,” Tanith said. “I’ll buy you one, though.” She waved over a barman, and Oberon ordered a Scotch, because of course he did.

  “How much do you know?” Oberon asked after he’d taken his first sip.

  “Everything up until right now,” Tanith said. “Last I heard, you were about to interrogate a mercenary. Bolton. How did that go for you?”

  “Wasn’t easy,” said Oberon. “A Sensitive would’ve made short work of it, but I had to resort to old-fashioned methods. Even so, I got him to talk eventually. Little while after that, I got him to actually tell me the truth. The group Bolton works for, they’re called Blackbrook Services, a private military company.”

  “You mean a private army.”

  “That I do. They’ve been fighting wars that governments don’t want to be seen to be fighting.”

  “How does Bolton know about sorcerers?”

  “They all do. Blackbrook is the same as any army – it’s got its regular grunts, and then it has its elite squad. Bolton’s one of the elite, and he says everyone in his squad is well aware that sorcerers exist.”

  Tanith sat back. “Whenever groups of well-armed mortals find out about magic, it never ends well.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Did he say what Blackbrook has to do with this Crepuscular Vies guy?”

  “Far as I can tell, he’s their boss. Been secretly bankrolling the whole thing since it was set up back in the 1980s, but it’s only in the last few years that he’s stepped out of the shadows.”

  “What’s he after?”

  Oberon took another sip. “I do not know. But whatever it is, he’s got a squad of black ops killers at his beck and call, and a whole army behind that, should he need it.” Oberon paused, sloshing the drink around in its glass. His eyes were green. “Tanith, I have to be honest with you. I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t know where to go from here.”

  “That’s why Valkyrie sent me,” she said. “I’ve been through stuff like this before. You’ve done well, with the questioning and the interrogating and the finding stuff out. That’s all good. It’s all helpful. But now’s the part that I’m good at.”

  “Which is?”

  “Kicking down doors, and beating people up.”

  Oberon gave her another one of those smiles. Valkyrie was right. He was pretty hot. “Lead,” he said, “and I’ll follow.”

  Omen had pulled a sickie.

  It was his first one. He thought it would have been a bigger deal, like he’d have to prove that he was genuinely feeling ill and couldn’t possibly go to class.

  But the nurse believed him, and told him that maybe he’d feel better by tonight, and that he should go back to his dorm room and sleep it off.

  But Omen wasn’t in his dorm room.
Omen was in Dublin. Omen was skipping school.

  Auger skipped school all the time and, now that she was a part of the team, so did Never. They were all off somewhere today and nobody knew where, and the teachers just sighed and shrugged and carried on. It was Chosen One business, they reckoned. Auger never got in trouble for it.

  Omen wondered if he would.

  He made it to the Spire on O’Connell Street and waited. Three o’clock came and went and there was no sign of Colleen. He started to worry. If Abyssinia had found out that they were planning on leaving, he didn’t want to think what she’d do to them. The last time someone tried to leave, Jenan had pushed her to her death. He probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill the others, too.

  And then he saw Colleen on the other side of the road. She stared at him as he crossed over. Kept staring as he neared.

  “You came,” she said, when he was standing in front of her.

  “Of course,” Omen said. “I told you I would.”

  “I just … oh, I don’t know. I’m not used to anyone coming through for me, I suppose. Do you have the papers?”

  “Yep,” Omen said, reaching for his bag.

  “Not here!” Colleen said, eyes widening in alarm. “This way. Come on.”

  She started walking. Omen shrugged, and followed.

  They didn’t talk as they walked. Colleen made sure to stay ahead of him, probably so that no one would think they were together. Omen didn’t know a whole lot about this sort of stuff, but he reckoned that was probably smart.

  They turned on to a smaller street. There was a door open ahead of them and in they went, into the back of some restaurant. There was nobody else around.

  “We should be safe here,” Colleen said, turning to him. She gave a little laugh. “Oh, God, you probably thought I was leading you into a trap, didn’t you? Here, come, follow me away from everyone else where you’d be safe and step into an empty kitchen where we’ll spring our ambush!”

  He laughed along with her, slightly annoyed that this had never crossed his mind.

  “So,” Colleen said, “the papers?”

  He handed over the bag. “They’re not too bad, actually. I think if I had this kind of pressure with all my classes, I wouldn’t have to cheat so much. So what now? Are you all going to sneak away at the same time, or leave one by one?”

  “Ah, we haven’t really decided.”

  “Do you think you’ll get away without anyone noticing?”

  Colleen shrugged.

  “Aren’t you going to check the papers?” Omen asked. “I mean, I appreciate the faith you seem to have in me, but my forgeries have not been the best in the past.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine,” said Colleen.

  They stood there, and Omen began to feel uneasy.

  “Well,” he said, “you’d probably better get going before anyone becomes suspicious. If you need anything else, just let me know, OK?”

  “There is one more thing,” Colleen said. “It’s … it’s kind of embarrassing, but this might be the last time I ever see you, so if I can’t say this now then when can I? I … love you, Omen. I’m in love with you.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve loved you for years.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “Who is?”

  “And I know I was horrible to you, and I said horrible things, but that’s just because I was afraid of my feelings for you.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I don’t expect you to love me back.”

  “Huh?”

  “But I need you to know this.”

  “Me?”

  “I love you.”

  He blinked at her. “Really?”

  She nodded, then stopped nodding and laughed. “No, not really. Damn, I couldn’t keep that going. Wouldn’t it have been, like, a twist? If I did actually love you?”

  He laughed along with her, although he wasn’t exactly sure why. “I suppose,” he said.

  Colleen put a hand on his arm, as if to steady him. “I don’t love you, though.”

  “Yeah, I understood that.”

  “I could never love you.”

  “Well, OK.”

  “I hate you.”

  “Um.”

  “You’re a waste of space. I have literally never seen the point of you. Your brother, absolutely. But you? Why do you even exist? You just bumble around in the background, and you’re barely noticeable until you are noticed, and then you’re just, like, everywhere, like a bad extra in a movie who you can’t take your eyes off because they’re literally so annoying.”

  “Right,” Omen said quietly.

  Colleen burst out laughing again. “I’m joking! Oh my God, the look on your face! I’m only joking, Omen!”

  “Ha,” he responded, managing a weak smile.

  “I’m sorry, that was mean. That was very, very mean. But I was kidding. I don’t think any of those things. No one else would have done what you’ve done for us. No one else would have risked it. Sincerely and genuinely, thank you.”

  “Well, you know, no problem.”

  “I bet no one else would have even believed me,” she continued. “Especially after I insisted that you’d have to forge the papers without telling your friends or the people you trust. Anyone else but you, Omen, would have suspected that something was up, right then and there. They’d have thought, Oh, hold on, Colleen’s asking me to do this stuff just so I’d agree to meet her outside Roarhaven. Where I’m alone. And vulnerable. I’d better not do it because, like, I’m not stupid. That’s what anyone else but you would think, Omen.”

  She wasn’t smiling any more. Neither was Omen.

  “I should go,” he said.

  “Could I have a goodbye hug?”

  She opened her arms, and waited.

  He didn’t step towards her. “I should probably just head back.”

  “Just one little hug?”

  “I’m not much of a hugger.”

  “Please?”

  He looked around. They were still alone.

  “I wasn’t being serious,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Ah-ah,” she said, grinning. “I didn’t say which part I wasn’t being serious about. Which do you think it was? Do you think I wasn’t being serious about the leading you into a trap part, or the other part?”

  “I’m, uh, I’m not sure. I’m getting kind of confused.”

  Colleen nodded. “You are quite dim. Will I tell you?”

  Omen stepped back. “You know what? I’m just going to leave. Good luck with everything, and say hi to the others for me.”

  She dropped her arms, and looked hurt. “Dude, I’m only messing with you. I didn’t mean to, like, make you uneasy or whatever.”

  “No,” Omen said, smiling again. “You didn’t make me uneasy.”

  “I’m such an idiot. You do all this to help us and what do I do in return? I mess with your head. I’m sorry, Omen. I hope I do see you again, but, if I don’t, thank you so much for this. You are, literally, saving our lives.” She took out her phone, checked the time, and put it away again. “I have to go. When all this is over, will you tell our friends that we had nothing to do with the bad stuff that’s going to happen?”

  “What bad stuff?”

  “I … I can’t tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it’d be for you.”

  “Colleen, please. If people are going to get hurt, I need to know.”

  Tears glistened in her eyes. “So many people are going to get hurt.”

  “Then tell me. Right now, before you go. Tell me, and I can tell Skulduggery and Valkyrie and they can go and stop it. You’ll be saving lives, Colleen.”

  Colleen chewed her lip.

  “You chose to go with Abyssinia,” Omen said. “You chose to be on the wrong side, but you changed your mind. You saw where all this was headed and you realised you wanted nothing to do with it. But this? This is your chance to be on the r
ight side. This is your chance to do something to help people.”

  Colleen sniffed, and wiped her eyes. “Help people,” she echoed. “That’s kind of a new one for me. You probably hadn’t noticed this, but usually I’m actually pretty selfish. Help people, eh? That does sound … nice. Is that the word? Nice? Wait a minute … I’m feeling something, something inside. Something warm. Is this …” She looked up. “Is this what it feels like to be good?”

  Oh, crap. This was a trap.

  He spun for the door just as Jenan Ispolin stepped through.

  “Hello, moron,” he said.

  Omen got out.

  He didn’t know how, but he got out of the restaurant, and Jenan was bleeding from his nose and shouting and running after him and this narrow little street suddenly seemed very, very long.

  Lapse burst out of a doorway ahead, laughing like they were in the middle of the best prank ever. His hands were glowing. A burst of energy shot out, hit Omen in the shoulder. The impact spun him, nearly made him fall, but Lapse had never been a particularly good Energy Thrower. He’d never been able to focus enough to give his blasts much power. Two more bursts followed, each weaker than the last. Omen didn’t even bother trying to dodge them as he ran. They exploded against his back with all the force of a half-hearted slap.

  A year ago, Omen wouldn’t have had a chance of outrunning Jenan, but he wasn’t the short little ball of podge that he’d once been. All those aches, all those growing pains, had brought with them longer limbs, and the longer limbs helped even out his weight. He wasn’t particularly fast, but he wasn’t especially slow, either.

  And then Gall came from nowhere and barged into him, slamming him against the brick wall. Omen dodged a ridiculous spinning back fist and grabbed him, twisting and throwing him into Jenan’s path. They fell over each other, cursing, and Omen went to run on, but the air smacked into him, threw him sideways. He rolled through filth and broken crates.

  Colleen strode up, fire in both hands and a smile on her face. The others were coming from the other direction, blocking his escape route. Omen snatched up a heavy piece of wood and hurled it. It spun as it went. He didn’t expect it to actually hit Colleen but it actually did, smacking her diagonally across the face. She went down, howling, and Omen leaped over her and ran back the way he’d come. There were shouts from behind. Panic. He was going to escape.