Bedlam. Derek Landy

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Bedlam - Derek Landy


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the good doctor in the first place?”

      “I told you, I’m not a criminal. But if I were a criminal, which I am not, then I’d still have nothing to tell you because it would have come to me with the proposal.”

      “I see,” said Skulduggery. “Valkyrie, do you have anything to add?”

      “Yeah,” she said, and pointed to a man sitting at a table nearby. “That guy.”

      The man paled instantly and sat up straighter.

      “You’ve been pretty handsy with the wait staff,” Valkyrie said, walking over. “A little pat on the backside here, a little pinch there.”

      He shook his head quickly.

      Valkyrie loomed over him. “You think that’s a nice thing to do?” she asked. “You think that’s acceptable?”

      The man cleared his throat. “I … I …”

      “Stand up, please,” Valkyrie said.

      The man hesitated, then stood.

      “You mind if I give you a little pat?” she asked, and she slapped him, the heel of her hand crashing into the hinge of his jaw. He went up to his heels and toppled backwards, unconscious before he hit the ground.

      “Aw, man,” said Reign. “You can’t do that. Panthea, she can’t do that to a paying customer.”

      “The paying customer assaulted staff,” Panthea said without moving.

      “If you see Doctor Nye, please let us know,” Skulduggery said, picking up his hat and walking to the door.

      “Be sure to tip your waitress,” Valkyrie said to the rest of the patrons, joining Skulduggery on his way to the exit. Panthea came up behind her, handed over her jacket. Valkyrie slipped it on, gave Panthea a wink and left.

      “That,” Panthea said once the door had closed, “was pretty badass.”

       The Borough Press

      “You’re mad at me,” Valkyrie said as they left the bar.

      “I’m not mad at you,” Skulduggery replied.

      “I made the situation worse.”

      “Reign didn’t know anything that could help us. We knew that was a possibility before we set foot in the place.”

      “I nearly started a fight.”

      “You did technically assault a man.”

      Valkyrie scowled. “Not him. Panthea. I almost started a fight with Panthea. I wanted to. I wanted to smack someone.”

      “You certainly managed that.”

      She stopped walking. It was a cold February night. They were saying it might snow. “There’s something wrong with me,” she said.

      Skulduggery turned to her. “Yes. You’ve got a serious case of humanity. I’m afraid there’s no cure.”

      “I’m not joking.”

      “Neither am I,” Skulduggery said, and put his arm round her, pulling her into his chest. “You’re coping as best you can with Alice’s situation, but you’re angry. Not with me, because no one could be angry with me, but with others. And yourself.”

      “Is that what we’re calling it now? Alice’s ‘situation’?”

      “What would you prefer to call it?”

      Valkyrie didn’t know. She doubted she could find a pithy way to encapsulate the killing of her own sister and the subsequent damaging of her soul. She shrugged. “Alice’s situation is fine,” she murmured, sagging against him. “But how are we going to find Nye now? We found it back in September when we weren’t even looking for it – but now, when we need the bloody thing, it’s vanished off every radar we can think of.”

      “We’ll find Nye because that’s what we do. We find things. Clues. Truth. Inappropriate humour at inappropriate times.”

      “Trouble,” she said.

      “Yes,” said Skulduggery. “We find trouble.”

      “No,” said Valkyrie, stepping away from his hug and nodding ahead of them. “Trouble.”

      A City Guard patrol car was parked in the next street over. Its engine was silent, its lights off. Beside it was a small shop. The door had been kicked open. Crashes came from inside.

      They ran across the road. Skulduggery was first through the door, Valkyrie right behind him. She readied herself for a fight, an unpleasant part of her hoping that the cops were heavily outnumbered and tonight was the night when she’d get to cut loose. She had a lot of anxiety to work through.

      Instead, they arrived to find three City Guard officers trashing the place in the dark.

      Two men and one woman. The woman noticed them, and hissed to the others. They stopped what they were doing and turned. Valkyrie recognised one of them – Sergeant Yonder. She didn’t like him.

      “Well,” said Skulduggery, “this should be good.”

      Yonder didn’t say anything for a few moments. When at last he spoke, what he said wasn’t very convincing. “This is official City Guard business. You can’t be here.”

      “We’re Arbiters,” Skulduggery said, stepping over the remains of a smashed shelf. “We can be anywhere we want to be.”

      Yonder bristled. “Your jurisdiction—”

      “Is absolute. That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? You two – identify yourselves.”

      The woman squared her shoulders. “I’m Officer Lush,” she said.

      “And I’m Officer Rattan,” said the third cop.

      “And what exactly is going on here?” Skulduggery asked.

      “We had a report of a break-in,” said Yonder. “We came to investigate.”

      Valkyrie picked her way across the floor. “Did you find anyone?”

      Yonder glared. “The suspects had fled before we arrived.”

      “And the mess?”

      “It was like this when we got here.”

      “Who owns this shop?” Skulduggery asked, and their attention switched back to him.

      “I don’t know,” said Yonder.

      “Do you think perhaps it might be a mortal?”

      Yonder shrugged.

      “Because we’ve heard stories,” Valkyrie said, and they all looked at her. “You know all those pesky mortals from Dimension X?”

      “The Leibniz Universe,” Skulduggery corrected.

      She ignored him. “You know how they were all given the empty houses in the West District? That’s quite close to here, isn’t it? They’ve only been there for five or six months, but they’re already working hard to make a new life for themselves, away from Mevolent and all the nasty, nasty sorcerers from their home dimension. Well, we heard that there were some nasty sorcerers over here, too, and they were robbing these mortals.”

      “Not robbery,” Skulduggery said. “Extortion.”

      Valkyrie snapped her fingers. “That’s right. Extortion. Their little businesses would be targeted and threatened, and they’d have to pay these nasty sorcerers to not


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