Bedlam

by Derek Landy

Sebastian couldn’t tell how long she’d been dead. Years, maybe. He couldn’t tell how she’d died, either. Her body was ravaged, obviously, but everyone knew that Darquesse had been through injuries more horrific than these. Maybe some magical disease had caused her to waste away, or some injury that not even she could heal. Or maybe she had just been beaten to death.

  He lowered himself down until he was sitting beside her remains. He’d failed. He’d been sent on this mission with no way of succeeding, yet he’d failed nonetheless. Of course he had. He always failed. That was who he was. They’d placed their faith in the wrong person.

  He took off his hat, lowered his head and cried.

  The world was doomed. Everyone he’d ever known was doomed. The people he loved. The people he didn’t. The people he’d never met and never would.

  Darquesse had been the answer. The only answer. His only purpose. The only reason he’d put on this suit of loneliness, of isolation – the only reason he’d come here. It was all a waste. It was all a joke.

  It was a joke, but all he could do was cry.

  Sniffling, sobbing, he pushed himself up on to his knees, and pressed his hands together.

  “Darquesse,” he said, his voice loud in his mask, “we need you. The world needs you. We need your strength. Your power. I came here to bring you back. I don’t know what to do now. I’ve come all this way and I don’t know what to do. I … I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I couldn’t find you, but I never thought I’d find you and you’d be …”

  Bile rose in his throat and he put out a hand to steady himself while his stomach heaved and he clamped his mouth shut. He wanted to rip the mask off. He wanted nothing more than to rip the mask off.

  He could do it. He didn’t know what would happen, but he could do it. What did it matter any more? He’d failed. No one would mourn him. No one would notice. Bennet, or one of the others, would maybe come looking for him eventually, but he’d be long gone by then and they could go back to their lives. Their sad little lives.

  But what could he do? What could Sebastian Tao do? Where could he go? Where was there to go?

  He swallowed, tasting acid, and straightened his spine. The least he could do, after all, was straighten his spine. His gloved hands rose, his gloved fingers crawling along the back of his neck, searching for the clasp.

  He felt a smile, and found he was looking forward to feeling fresh air on his face. Or would he feel anything at all? There was always the possibility that the moment he undid the mask he would blink out of existence.

  His fingers stopped crawling. They wouldn’t move when he commanded them. They were failing him, just as he was failing everybody else.

  A shadow fell across him, and he looked up and saw a god.

  It was big. The kind of big measured in skyscrapers, in mountainous peaks. It stood on two legs, its sagging grey skin mottled pink and blue. Its arms were long and triple-jointed. Its hands had three fingers and a thumb. All clawed.

  From its back there sprouted the sharp, twisted bones of what may once have been wings. Spiders as big as cars scuttled on its shoulders. Its head twitched on a thick neck. The head had no eyes, no ears, no face. It just had a mouth, a dark circle rimmed with teeth.

  Behind it was another one just like it. In the distance, three more.

  Faceless Ones.

  Not the kind Sebastian had read about. Not the kind whose appearance alone would be enough to snap his sanity. These were Faceless Ones that had taken physical form, that had channelled their power into a shell of meat and teeth. He knew this instinctively. This was a cosmic truth that some part of his mind recognised without question.

  He tried to stand, but his body had grown numb. He tried to hide behind the outcrop of rock, but he couldn’t even crawl. He just looked up and waited for them to notice him.

  The hill shook. The very ground shook.

  A woman emerged from behind a mountain, running, her footsteps like earthquakes. She was as big as the Faceless Ones, a fierce light shining through her translucent skin, through her long hair, and she crashed into the Faceless One beside the hill and gripped its wing bones, yanking it round. The spiders flew off, and the Faceless One let out a scream so loud and so sharp it threw Sebastian on to his back, his hands clutching at his ears.

  The Faceless One ripped its claws through the woman’s midsection and light spilled out. She ignored the wound and bit down on its neck. Its scream turned to a squeal. They staggered backwards together, locked in their embrace.

  The other Faceless Ones just watched as the shining woman broke off a wing bone and used the sharp end as a dagger, stabbing and stabbing until purple blood leaked from half a dozen stomach wounds. She released the Faceless One and it stumbled and she shoved her hand into the bite on its neck. The Faceless One struggled, panicking, but all the shining woman did was plunge her hand deeper.

  Then she ripped her hand back, and tore the head off the thing.

  The other Faceless Ones turned, and walked away. The shining woman watched them go.

  Sebastian managed to stand. He watched the light that was spilling from the woman’s midsection start to fade as she healed herself.

  At the same time, the Faceless One’s body twitched on the ground behind her. Its neck sealed, and lengthened, and it grew a new head while the old head, the one in the woman’s hand, started to grow the beginnings of what looked like a new body.

  She hurled the head away from her, and the horizon swallowed it.

  The rest of the Faceless One clambered to its feet. Its wounds were closed now. Its wing bone was whole again. It shuffled away and she let it go.

  She couldn’t be killed. Neither could they. Yet they were locked in battle.

  “Darquesse!” Sebastian shouted from the hilltop.

  The shining woman turned.

  His heart thudding in his chest, Sebastian wished he’d thought about what to say.

  “Hello,” he called. “I’m from earth. The other earth, the one you’re from. We need your help.”

  She bent over, peering at him.

  “We’re still alive,” he said. “You didn’t kill us. We made you think you did, but you didn’t. We, the whole world, I mean, we need you to come back now.”

  The shining woman turned as she straightened, and started to walk away.

  “No!” Sebastian shouted. “Please! We need you to come back! We need you!”

  But one single stride had taken her far out of range of his weak, human voice, and all he could do was stare as she disappeared behind the mountain range.

  The hope that had flared inside him died in an instant. Earlier, falling to his knees beside her old physical form, he had thought he could never feel worse than he did then. But to fail at a mission for which there could be no success was infinitely preferable to failing at a mission for which success was possible.

  He’d failed. He’d properly failed. He’d been given the briefest of chances, but it was a chance nonetheless – and he’d squandered it. It was all his fault now. Whatever happened in the world, to the world, it was all because he’d messed up.

  Yes. This was so much worse.

  Morning time, and Tanith woke to find Skulduggery Pleasant standing over her bed.

  She yelled, thrashed around and eventually settled back on her pillow.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, glaring.

  “I’m here to help,” he told her. “While unconventional, this is still technically an Arbiter investigation.”

  “I mean,” she said, “what are you doing in my motel room?”

  “Oh. Well, I arrived and … and you weren’t awake yet, so …”

  “So you broke into my room?”

  “I merely opened the door.”

  “You picked the lock.”

  “In order to open the door. I must admit, I was surprised I was able to. Why didn’t you seal it? You can seal a door with one touch.”

  “Never mind why I didn’t seal
it. You shouldn’t have picked the lock. How long have you been standing there?”

  “Not long,” he said. “I was sitting over there for an hour, and then I got bored so I decided to stand here until you woke.”

  Tanith sat up. “Skulduggery, man … you can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s weird. It’s frightening to wake up and see someone standing over you. How would you like it?”

  “I don’t sleep.”

  “You kind of sleep.”

  “I meditate.”

  “And how would you like it if you were meditating and then I suddenly appeared beside you?”

  His head tilted. “I would be delighted to see you.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said. “You would not. Where’s Val?”

  “In jail.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m feeling very positive that I’ll be able to get her out later today. In the meantime, we have a job to do, yes?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Now get out. I’m going to take a shower.”

  He left the room and Tanith showered and dressed, and when she was ready to leave she grabbed her bag and opened the door and yelped in shock.

  Skulduggery, standing right there, did that head tilt of his again. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m peachy,” she said, moving past him.

  He followed. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m hungry,” she said. “I need breakfast.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  She turned. “No. I need food and coffee. I do not need conversation. No offence.”

  “Why would I be offended?”

  She sighed. “I don’t really know.”

  “You seem grumpy.”

  “Well, I’m not, so I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Were you expecting someone last night?”

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she growled. “Where’s Oberon?”

  “Having breakfast,” Skulduggery said.

  “Did you wake him up like you woke me?”

  “Yes,” Skulduggery said. “He was grumpy, too.”

  “That surprises me so much. Hold on to this, would you? I’ll be out when I’ve eaten.”

  She passed him her bag, and carried on to the diner. Oberon had finished, and was paying as she walked in. He still hadn’t shaved. He looked even better than he had the night before.

  He gave her a smile and left, and she watched him go, then sat at a table and the waitress came over.

  “Now that,” the waitress said admiringly, “is a tall drink of water, you know what I mean? What can I get you, hon?”

  Tanith sighed. “Coffee,” she said.

  They got in Oberon’s car and arrived at Blackbrook base two hours later. A military compound of watchtowers and squat, functional buildings, it was cut into dense woodland, but didn’t seem to have much in the way of actual people.

  Skulduggery took to the air, did a quick scout around. He landed back beside them. “It appears to be deserted,” he said, “apart from one building near the entrance. The security systems are inoperative. There are a few jeeps, a few transports, but everything else seems to have already been moved out – personnel included.”

  “So we’re too late,” said Oberon. “Whatever mission they’re on is already underway.”

  “If there’s someone still here,” Tanith said, “we can ask them about it. We don’t even have to sneak in.”

  So they walked right into the building near the entrance. To their right there was a desk behind bullet-resistant glass with a clerk sitting at it. In front of them were two doors – both made of reinforced steel.

  The clerk frowned as they approached.

  “Hello,” Skulduggery said. The façade he wore had blond hair and a strange, drooping moustache.

  “Who are you?” asked the clerk.

  Skulduggery gave him a huge smile. “We’re supposed to be here.”

  “What?”

  “In case you were wondering if we’re supposed to be here – we are. We have clearance. Proper, official clearance. What clearance level are you?”

  The clerk hesitated. “I … I’m Green Level.”

  “Well,” said Skulduggery, “we’re four levels above that.”

  “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  “Figures of authority.”

  The clerk reached slowly for the phone.

  “Stop that right now,” said Skulduggery. “I just explained to you who we are and I think I’ve been quite clear about the facts pertaining to our clearance levels.”

  “You’re going to need to show me some identification,” the clerk said, his hand hovering over the phone.

  “Are you trying to give me an order, Corporal?”

  “I’m a sergeant.”

  “Not for long if you keep this up.”

  “This is all very unusual,” said the clerk. “I should check with my supervisor.”

  Skulduggery nodded. “I demand to see him.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Your supervisor,” Skulduggery said. “Get him down here immediately. When I walk into one of my facilities, I expect people to at least know who I am. This is ridiculous. I’ve never been so insulted in all my life, and neither have my friends. Have you?”

  “Uh,” said Tanith, “no.”

  “Not really,” Oberon said.

  “There,” said Skulduggery. “So go ahead, call your supervisor. I shall be having a word. A stern word.”

  “OK,” said the clerk, and picked up the phone.

  “Wait,” said Skulduggery.

  “Yes?”

  “Maybe I was too harsh. I do that sometimes. I overreact. I blame my upbringing. My parents didn’t react very much to things when I was a child, so I overcompensated. I’m still doing it to this day. What’s your name, Lieutenant?”

  “I’m just a sergeant, sir.”

  “Not for long with your attention to detail.”

  “My, uh, my name is Perkins, sir.”

  “Perkins. Like the car.”

  “Sir?”

  “The car,” said Skulduggery. “They made a car called the Perkins, didn’t they? The one with all the wheels?”

  “I don’t think so, sir.”

  “Then what one am I thinking about?”

  “Maybe the Ford?” Tanith suggested.

  “That’s not it,” said Skulduggery. “It definitely sounds like Perkins. Perkins, Shmerkins, Flerkins … Hyundai! That’s it! Sorry for the mix-up, Private.”

  “I’m a sergeant, sir.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  The clerk started dialling. “I’m calling my supervisor.”

  Skulduggery folded his arms and leaned his shoulder against the glass. “Good idea. Can’t trust anyone these days. To be honest, I don’t even know the people who came in with me. They could be anyone. Spies. Enemy agents. Assassins. Best you and me stick together, what do you say? Maybe open this door here so I can join you in there.”

  The clerk straightened slightly as the call was answered. “General,” he said, “this is Perkins, over at the Idaho site. I have three individuals who just walked in – pretty sure they’re sorcerers.”

  “Dammit,” muttered Tanith.

  “That’s just rude,” said Skulduggery.

  “That’s right, sir,” said Perkins. “I’m looking at them now.”

  Skulduggery rapped on the glass. “You knew I was a sorcerer all along and you just let me talk. I expected more from you, Perkins, I really did.”

  “At once, sir,” Perkins said, and hung up the phone.

  “Well?” Tanith asked. “What did he say?”

  “I’ve been ordered to leave the base,” Perkins said, flicking switches, “and lock you in here.”

  Skulduggery shrugged. “That suits us fine. We’ll be able to hunt for clues in peace.”

  Perkins’s fingers danced over his keyboard. “I’ve also been authorised to release the test subjects so th
at they can kill you.”

  Skulduggery’s head tilted. “I feel like this has got personal between us, Perkins.”

  “You’re sorcerers,” Perkins said, still typing. “You must be stopped by any means necessary in order to preserve our way of life.”

  “We don’t want to interfere with your way of life,” Tanith said. “We’re the good guys.”

  “The only good sorcerer,” said Perkins, “is a dead sorcerer.”

  The heavy doors ahead of them clicked and slid open, and soldiers came through, blinking like animals set free from a cage. They were barefoot, wore fatigues and olive-green T-shirts, and they had metal collars around their necks and sigils carved into their arms.

  They saw Tanith and the others and hope flashed in their eyes. They hurried closer. Two of them had to help another who could barely stand.

  “Can you help us?” the closest soldier asked. “They’ve been experimenting on us. Torturing us. Please, if you can just—”

  The soldier caught sight of Perkins and he shrank back slightly, like he was expecting to be hurt.

  “This is where I leave,” Perkins said. He took out his phone and tapped on the screen as he walked for the door.

  “Don’t let him do that,” the soldier whispered. “Please don’t let him do that.”

  Skulduggery snapped his hand against the air and the reinforced glass cracked into a million spiderwebs. As Perkins left through the door, he tapped the screen again, and the metal collars beeped before falling from the soldiers’ necks.

  Pain crossed their faces. Two of the soldiers crumpled to the floor. The soldier in front, the one who’d asked for their help, clenched his hands into fists and held them to his chest while he moaned and shook his head.

  “What’s happening?” Tanith asked gently, moving towards him.

  He raised his head and raised his hands and she glimpsed the fresh scars that curved across his palms, palms that were now glowing from the inside. She barely had time to duck before streams of white-hot energy burst out, shredding his skin and spraying the wall with his blood. His scream was pain and rage and utter insanity.

  Tanith scrambled, evading the sweep of the energy streams. The other soldiers were howling as they unleashed their magic. Tanith flipped, ran across the ceiling, following Skulduggery and Oberon over the desk and through the gap in the reinforced glass, then out the door.