Полная версия
Bedlam
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2019
Published in this ebook edition in 2019
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
HarperCollins Publishers
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London SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Text copyright © Derek Landy 2019
Skulduggery Pleasant™ Derek Landy
Skulduggery Pleasant logo™ HarperCollinsPublishers
Cover illustration copyright © Tom Percival 2019
Cover design copyright © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019
Derek Landy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008293666
Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008295660
Version: 2019-04-25
This book is dedicated to Laura J.
Because apparently having a book dedicated to you doesn’t count unless it’s a Skulduggery book. Hey, I get it. I do. But does that mean I can never stop writing these? Because that’s going to be pretty difficult, seeing as how everyone dies at the end of this one.
Aw, mannn … now look what you’ve made me do. I’ve ruined the ending for all the nice people.
Don’t worry, everyone, this book has a happy ending! Super-happy, with rainbows!
(Do you think they bought it? Yeah, me, too. Phew. That was a close one.)
(It’s a good thing you’re cute, it really is …)
And from the everything came the universe, which grew and spread and took its place beside the others.
And life grew, and spread.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Keep Reading …
The Skulduggery Pleasant series
About the Publisher
Magic.
The place dripped with the stuff. It gathered in the corner booths, spilled over the long, lacquered bar, and crawled its way across the floor, grinning its slow, idiot grin. It was in everything – the music, the drinks, the words spoken and the laughs they provoked. It was stitched into clothes and etched into jewellery. It was in the coiffed hair. The lipstick.
That’s what sorcerers did now. Free from the old rules, they took their magic and they experimented. They pushed their powers into sigils scrawled on squares of paper. They shared and swapped, dipped in and dabbled. For some, it meant a night of unforgettable wonder. For others, it meant sinking into a cold, dark place with no walls and no floors and no way to climb out. But the party went on. The party always went on.
The sorcerers looked at Valkyrie when she walked in. They knew her. They all knew her. Valkyrie Cain, the Arbiter, the detective, her dark hair loose, still wearing her jacket, still cold from outside. Twenty-five years old, six feet tall and made of muscle and sinew, a pretty girl with a nasty streak.
And, where she was, he was, emerging from the other side of the bar. Skulduggery Pleasant, the Arbiter, the Skeleton Detective, wearing a black three-piece with a blue shirt and black tie, his hat pulled low over one eye socket. If bad news had a name, it answered to Skulduggery.
The conversation faded just for a moment, then swelled again, as if acting innocent was going to save anyone. They talked, and laughed, every one of them hoping that they weren’t the person the Arbiters were looking for. Not tonight. Please, whatever god you believe in, not tonight.
Valkyrie took off her jacket. There were those who were impressed and those who weren’t – but they all looked. They looked at her shoulders, carved from granite, and peeked at her abs when her T-shirt rode up, carved from marble. They saw the work she’d put in, the sacrifices she’d made. The punishment. Most of them would never know what it took to go through that. None of them knew the pain that drove her.
Christopher Reign, at least, knew of the effort involved. He was a man who loved his muscles as much as he loved his suits. The suits were from Italy. The muscles came straight from Detroit.
Valkyrie and Skulduggery sat at his table and didn’t say anything. Skulduggery took off his hat.
Reign watched them. Smiled. Nodded to Valkyrie. “Thought you’d be bigger.”
“No, you didn’t,” she said back.
He looked away, raised a hand. “I got a girl could bench-press you.”
His girl stood up. She was taller than Valkyrie. Bigger arms. Her thighs stretched her trousers.
Valkyrie barely glanced at her. “I’m not here to outflex your gym buddies. I’m here to talk to you about Doctor Nye.”
“I know you are,” said Reign, and laughed. “Everyone knows you are. You been looking for that messed-up freak since before Christmas. That’s over two months now. Why is that?”
“It’s a family matter.”
“A family matter involving Nye? Yowch.” He chuckled. “Ever think that maybe it don’t wanna be found?”
“We don’t much care,” said Valkyrie. “We’re going to find it anyway. We’ve heard you might know where it is.”
Reign shook his head. “I don’t associate with the Crenga. They may talk like they’re kinda human, but they’re not. They’re monsters. Intelligent monsters, hell, yeah, but monsters. You can’t trust a monster.”
Valkyrie put a square piece of paper on the table. It had a sigil drawn on it.
“I don’t know what that is,” said Reign.
“Of course you don’t. People are calling it a Splash.”
“Oh,” said Reign. “Oh, I heard about this. Little jolts of magic shared between friends, am I right? Just enough to make you feel good?”
“Sure,” Valkyrie said. “Completely harmless fun, if you don’t count the potential side effects.”
Reign’s smile widened. “Side effects, Miss Detective? Oh, you’re talking about those mages who lost control for a bit, right? Hurt a few people? Such a shame.”
“Yes, it was,” said Valkyrie. She tapped the piece of paper. “This is one of yours, isn’t it? One you’ve sold?”
“What a positively outrageous accusation. I am deeply, deeply hurt.”
“We talked to some people,” said Valkyrie. “We did our homework. These little Splashes started appearing six weeks ago. We traced them right back here.”
“Back here?” Reign said, eyebrows rising.
“Back here,” said Valkyrie, nodding.
“Wow. I mean, I’m assuming you have evidence …”
“You’ve been watching too many mortal cop shows, Christopher. We don’t need evidence. All we need is a suspicion, and then we let our Sensitives take a peek inside your mind.”
“That would be worrying, if indeed I was involved in a criminal enterprise, and I didn’t have the best psychic barriers that money can buy.”
For the first time, Valkyrie smiled. “I’m a bit of a Sensitive myself,” she said. “I’ve only just started to find out what I can do, but I bet I could break through those pesky barriers of yours.”
“I think I’d like to see you try.”
“How’d you do it, Christopher?”
His face fell. “Have we stopped flirting already?”
“Oh, that wasn’t flirting. See, we know you don’t have anyone in your crew who could come up with these Splashes. Something like this is relatively easy to replicate, but not at all easy to create. We think you had outside help.”
“Ah,” said Reign. “You think Doctor Nye is responsible.”
“That’s what we think.”
“And so you’re hoping that I still know where that gangly, no-nosed freak might be hiding out.”
“That’s exactly it.”
Reign finished his drink and a waitress appeared, taking the empty glass and replacing it with a fresh one.
Skulduggery watched her hurry away. “Do you have mortals working in your bar, Mr Reign?” he asked.
“Sure do. I got a few of ’em. It’s perfectly legal, and they’re cheaper than hiring one of us. No mage wants to wait tables or scrub toilets, you know?”
“Back to Doctor Nye, Christopher,” said Valkyrie.
“I told you, I don’t associate with Crengarrions. I’m a business owner. I run a bar. I’m not a criminal. I don’t deal drugs, magical or otherwise. I am a law-abiding citizen of Roarhaven, and I pay my taxes, the same as everyone else. Now, I just met you, and I like you, but right now I’m feeling … what’s the word? Harassed. I feel like you’re harassing me. You’re welcome to buy yourself a drink and stay, chat, make new friends. I would love to see you loosen up. But I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call a halt to the interrogation.”
“You don’t have much of a say in it,” said Valkyrie.
Reign’s gym buddy came over then, the tall woman with all the muscles.
“This is Panthea,” said Reign. “She’s one of the door staff here. She is well within her rights to throw you outta this bar. All she needs is an excuse.”
Valkyrie sighed, and stood. The chatter stopped. Only the music continued. Skulduggery started to rise, but Valkyrie put a hand on his shoulder as she stepped round him.
“You want to take the first swing?” she asked, looking up at Panthea.
Panthea sneered. “So you can arrest me for assaulting an Arbiter?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t arrest you for something like that.”
“So … I could knock you the hell out and I wouldn’t land in a jail cell?”
“I doubt you’d be able to,” said Valkyrie, “but sure.”
Panthea smiled.
“So how do you want to do this?” Valkyrie asked. “Want to go outside, want to clear a space, want to just throw each other over tables?”
“I can do whatever you want.”
“Not the third one,” said Reign, “please. These tables cost money.”
“I’ll give you the first shot,” Valkyrie said. “One clean shot, right across the jaw. See if you can knock me out.”
Panthea grinned. “A shot like that, you’ll be eating through a straw.”
“If I could just interject,” Skulduggery said, attempting to rise again.
Once more, Valkyrie put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him down. “Not right now,” she said. “I’m having a conversation with the pretty lady.”
Panthea arched an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”
“You have gorgeous eyes.”
“Compliments won’t stop me from beating you up so bad you crawl home to your mammy.”
“I wouldn’t expect them to, beautiful.”
Panthea folded her massive arms. “OK, well, you can stop, because I am many things, but beautiful is not one of them.”
“Are you kidding?” Valkyrie said. “With your bone structure?”
“I’ve got a busted nose.”
“Your nose has character. It’s cute, and it makes the rest of you even cuter.”
Panthea sneered again, and looked Valkyrie up and down. “Your arms are amazing,” she said at last.
“You think so?”
“You’re hitting all the right angles,” Panthea said, nodding.
“Well, your arms are phenomenal.”
“Yeah,” said Panthea, “but it’s hard to find clothes that fit.”
“Oh, God, I know.”
“I’m confused,” said Reign. “I thought you two were gonna fight.”
Panthea hesitated, then glanced at her boss. “I don’t think I can, Mr Reign. I like her.”
“Awww,” Valkyrie said, “thank you. I like you, too. I’m looking for a gym to train at here in Roarhaven – where do you go?”
“Fit to Fight, down on Ascendance Street.”
“Hey,” said Reign, “I go there. I don’t want her at my gym.”
Valkyrie and Panthea ignored him.
“Actually,” said Panthea, “I only work doors part time – the rest of my day I spend down there as a personal trainer, so …”
Valkyrie bit her lower lip. “Do you think you could fit me in?”
“Definitely.”
Reign stood up. “OK, what the hell is going on?”
“We’re flirting,” said Valkyrie. “This is what flirting is, Christopher.”
“Panthea, you can’t flirt with her,” Reign said, scowling. “She’s an Arbiter and a … a customer.”
Panthea frowned. “Is she a customer if she hasn’t even bought a drink?”
“You have a boyfriend, Panthea.”
“So what?” Valkyrie said. “I have a girlfriend. Doesn’t mean we can’t indulge in a little harmless flirting.”
“Yeah,” said Panthea, “lighten up, Christopher.”
Skulduggery finally stood. “This night has not gone the way I had envisioned,” he said. “Mr Reign – the whereabouts of Doctor Nye?”
“I don’t know,” Reign said, all trace of good humour having left his eyes. “I don’t know where that freak is, and I don’t care. If it did come up with the Splashes – and I’m not saying it did or that I’d even know if it did – then it took its money and it departed without leaving a forwarding address.”
“And how did you contact 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.”
“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.”
