16

      “Surprise,” said Never, taking the seat beside Omen in the Dining Hall and flicking the hair out of her eyes. “Someone is actually sitting beside you for breakfast. Wonders – will they never cease?”

      Omen frowned. “People sit beside me all the time.”

      “Rarely by choice, though. Admit it, Omen, you’re delighted to have someone to talk to this early in the morning, aren’t you?”

      Omen didn’t answer. But he was.

      “However, the truly amazing thing,” Never continued, “is that I’m sitting beside you even though you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

      “It’s … first thing in the morning.”

      “Don’t deny it, Omen. When you deny a truth, a kitten dies.”

      The din in the hall – chattering voices, clinking utensils, the heavy tread of feet and the tortured scrape of chairs – had not yet reached deafening proportions, so, when Never leaned in and lowered her voice, Omen could hear her perfectly.

      “You better tell me what’s going on and you better not lie. You’re a terrible liar. I always know when you’re lying because your ears go red. Are you going to eat that?”

      “It’s my breakfast,” said Omen.

      “I know. Are you going to eat it?”

      “I’m eating it now.”

      Never sighed. “Then are you going to finish it?”

      “Probably. Where’s your breakfast?”

      “In my stomach, where all breakfasts belong. Can I have that sausage?”

      “The one on the end of my fork? No. It’s mine. Look.” Omen took a bite. “See?”

      Never turned her head, so she was looking at Omen out of the corner of her eyes. “You’re definitely acting weird.”

      “No, I’m not,” said Omen. “I’m acting normal because I am normal.”

      Never flicked her hair again. She liked flicking her hair. It was one of her things. “You couldn’t be normal if you tried. Not with your family.”

      “Well, I don’t know what you want me to say. But I’m not acting weird.”

      “You were walking around yesterday, peering at everyone and trying to listen in to their conversations.”

      “No, I wasn’t.”

      “Whatever.” She used the air to lift a bread roll from the basket. Even though teleportation was her natural gift, and she was the only one in Mr Renn’s class who could actually teleport, Never was pretty good at everything, Elemental magic included. She was definitely better at it than Omen.

      Omen hesitated. “Do you, uh, do you think they noticed?”

      “Who?”

      “Everyone.”

      “That you were spying on them? Naw.” She dropped the bread roll back. “People tend to ignore you. It’s a gift you have. So what were you up to?”

      “I can’t tell you.”

      Never glared. “Since when do we keep secrets from each other?”

      “We keep loads of secrets from each other,” Omen said, frowning. “Literally, loads.”

      She shrugged. “We should stop that. A friendship like ours is a friendship that relies on one hundred per cent honesty at all times.”

      “Then is it true what I heard about you and Rasure Cross?”

      “One hundred per cent honesty from this moment on,” said Never, smoothing down her skirt. “Hey, did you hear? Skulduggery Pleasant was here yesterday.”

      Omen stuffed some egg into his mouth. “Yeah?”

      “Chocolate said she was in French and she happened to glance out the window and there he was.”

      “That’s cool.”

      “She said Valkyrie Cain was with him.”

      “Right.”

      Never’s face had already soured. “I thought they’d split up.”

      “I, uh, I don’t think they were ever together in that way …”

      “You know what I mean. I thought she’d gone off to live out her life in America. That’s what I was hoping. She probably missed the limelight too much, had to come back to get everyone talking about her again.”

      “OK.”

      “Chocolate said that she looked just like Darquesse.”

      “Well, obviously.”

      “Yeah, I know. I just expected her to look a little different from all the videos, you know? You’d think she’d have dyed her hair a different colour or something. It’s like she’s proud of what she did.”

      “Ah … I don’t think that’s fair …”

      “She’s walking around the same city she half destroyed, Omen. What else would you call it? And why are you defending her?”

      “Because it wasn’t her, was it? It was Darquesse.”

      Never had that look on her face.

      “Stop,” Omen said quickly. “We’re not talking about this again. We have different opinions and I know how angry you get when we talk about it, so let’s not, OK? Not today. I have too much on my mind.”

      She stared at him. “You have what?”

      He blushed. “I, uh, I have a lot to think about.”

      Never laughed. “You have too much on your mind? Oh my God.”

      “Please forget I said that.”

      “I will never, ever forget you said that. Oh my God, you sound just like my mother.”

      He sagged. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

      “No. I’m not. At all. Mum.”

      Omen sighed, and swallowed the last mouthful of his breakfast before putting his knife and fork on his empty plate. “I’m going to go get ready for class now, because at least in class no one laughs at me quite as much as you do.”

      Never grinned. “Bet you don’t even know what class we have.”

      “Actually, I do,” said Omen. “We have history, with Mr Lilt.”

      “A man gets in his car,” said Parthenios Lilt, perched on the edge of his desk. “It’s night. The drive home is going to take him an hour. His favourite TV show starts in forty minutes. He starts driving. He goes a little faster than he really should. It starts to rain. His windscreen wipers aren’t that great. The road is slippery. He’s tired. He hasn’t slept well. He’s thinking about an argument he’s had with his boss. He gets to a sharp bend. He skids and crashes. What caused the accident?”

      The