Derek Landy - Bedlam

“You obviously haven’t heard,” said Valkyrie. “We’re Arbiters now. We don’t report to anyone.”

“Huh,” said Sleave. “I didn’t know the Arbiters were still a thing.”

“They weren’t,” Skulduggery said. “They are now.”

“But you’re still working with the Sanctuaries,” Sleave said, “which means you’re bound by their rules.”

“Not all of them.”

“Then you can let us go, and once you do that I’ll tell you his name. If I don’t, or if I lie, you feel free to hunt us down. Contrary to what you might be thinking, we’re really not that smart, so you won’t have too much trouble finding us.”

Skulduggery looked at Oberon, and then at Valkyrie. She shrugged.

“OK,” Skulduggery said. “We won’t arrest you.”

Another smile broke out across Sleave’s face. “Knew you were a man with an open mind. I could see it in your eye sockets.” He kicked one of his unconscious friends until they stirred. “Hey! Hey, get up. Wake the others or drag ’em out. You got two minutes.”

They stood silently while Sleave’s friends were either revived or hauled out through the back door. It took a lot longer than two minutes.

When they were gone, and only Sleave remained, he pulled on his jacket. “It was very nice to meet all of you,” he said. “Detective Pleasant, you’re a surprisingly reasonable fellow for a bunch of bones in a suit. Detective Cain, you’re a scary lady and that’s all I’ll say about that. Robbie’s dad, I don’t know anything else about you, so all I’ll say is that you just need to calm down in general and maybe people will like you more.”

Skulduggery took out his gun and aimed it at Sleave’s head. “The name.”

Sleave raised his hands slowly. “We only met him once,” he said. “He came to see us, told us what he expected, told us when and where to move, and explained how we’d be getting paid. We never saw him again, never saw anyone else working for him.”

“His name.”

“Crepuscular Vies.”

Skulduggery glanced at Valkyrie, then at Oberon.

“Never heard of him,” Oberon said.

“I’m not surprised,” said Sleave. “I didn’t have a clue who he was, either, and I still don’t. He’s tall, about the same height as you fellas, and wears a suit, bow tie and a hat. But I wouldn’t worry about what he’s wearing, because his face is … It’s just wrong. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Nationality?” Valkyrie asked.

Sleave laughed. “Don’t you know? Irish, of course. The most evil people in the world are Irish.”

“What do you think of him?” Valkyrie asked as they waited in the diner for Fletcher to come and pick them up.

One eyebrow rose on Skulduggery’s façade. “The waiter?”

“Oberon,” she said, and took a sip of coffee. It was not good.

“He seems capable,” Skulduggery said. He had a glass of water before him that he was never going to touch. “He threw around some of Sleave’s people without too much bother.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I have no reason not to. You?”

“Yeah, I believe him.”

“Well, OK then.”

It was pitch-black outside, and the diner was empty of customers apart from them and a drunk guy in the corner booth who kept getting up to play sad country songs on the jukebox.

Valkyrie took another sip of her coffee. It wasn’t getting any better. “Do you think he’ll be able to find out anything about this Crepuscular Vies?”

“Probably not,” Skulduggery said. “Oberon’s motivations may be pure, and he could have useful contacts in the criminal underworld that might provide a lead, but we’ll probably have to devote some time to it ourselves after our show of strength for Serafina tomorrow. Once all this is out of the way, I promise we’ll come up with a way to find Doctor Nye.”

Valkyrie nodded and took another sip, hoping he wouldn’t spot the look of guilt that flashed across her face.

Fletcher came in. Valkyrie scooched over so he could sit beside her. “Everything good? Everyone unharmed? Sorry I’m late. Had a bit of trouble finding the place. How’s the coffee?”

“Wonderful,” said Valkyrie. “You should get some.”

“Naw, caffeine makes me jumpy, and I’m going straight back to sleep after this.”

She winced. “We’re sorry for getting you out of bed. Aren’t we, Skulduggery?”

“Absolutely,” Skulduggery said.

“And we appreciate you doing this, don’t we, Skulduggery?”

“Thoroughly.”

Fletcher smiled. “The way I look at it, I’m not only helping you, I’m also helping the environment. That’s one of the great tragedies about keeping magic a secret, isn’t it? If everyone knew about us, Teleporters could transport people all round the world without a single harmful emission. Makes you wonder if we should just tell them for the sake of the planet.”

“I’m not entirely sure that the war that would inevitably follow wouldn’t damage the environment all over again,” Skulduggery said.

“You should have more faith in mortals,” Fletcher countered. “Not all of them are war-hungry simpletons, you know.”

“No,” Skulduggery said, “but they do tend to scare easily and, when people are scared, they lash out.”

Fletcher adjusted his hair slightly. “You have such a dim view of the people you fight every day to protect.”

“I’m just waiting for them to prove me wrong.”

Fletcher looked at Valkyrie. “Please tell me you have a cheerier outlook on life. You can’t be as miserable as him. You just can’t.”

She smiled. “I believe that people are good.”

“Thank you,” Fletcher responded.

“Most of them anyway.”

“OK.”

“I mean, not any that I’ve met, but—”

“You can stop there,” he said. “Wow, the two of you must have fun saving the world for people you don’t even like.”

“I’m joking,” said Valkyrie.

“I’m not,” said Skulduggery.

“I believe people are good,” Valkyrie continued, “though flawed, and, given all the information and enough time, they will do the right thing.”

Skulduggery picked up his hat from the seat, and put it on the table. “And I believe that life is arbitrary and when time moves on it will be as if we never existed. Do you want any pie?”

“No,” said Valkyrie.

“Then we should probably get going.”

“You’ve changed,” Fletcher said, not moving. “The both of you. You have. Remember when we used to be a team? Remember the energy? The excitement? The laughs? Whatever happened to all that?”

“When who used to be a team?” Skulduggery asked.

“The three of us,” said Fletcher. “And Tanith and Ghastly.”

“And you?”

“Yes, me. You never took me seriously, but I was a vital part of the team.”

“You were the bus.”

Valkyrie laughed and Fletcher smirked.

“I helped out more than that and you know it,” he said. “You just don’t want to admit that I’ve grown. Hey, I understand. You knew me when I was a kid. Now I’m an adult, and I have a job, educating young people, moulding young minds. I have responsibilities. Obligations. We’re both alphas. You probably feel threatened by me. Also, you’re jealous of my hair. I get it. I’d be jealous of it, too. But I propose, right now, that we leave the past in the past and, from this day on, treat each other as equals. What do you say, Skulduggery?”

Fletcher stuck out his hand. Skulduggery observed it for a moment, then extended his own hand – and picked up his hat.