Bedlam. Derek LandyЧитать онлайн книгу.
of feet. The creaking of desks. The entire class was watching Auger and him sitting opposite each other, trying to speak to each other without making a sound.
All he had to do was concentrate, Miss Wicked had said. Focus. Twins had a higher chance than most of getting this right. For once, Omen could be ahead of everyone else. If he could just manage this one simple thing.
Oh, God. He wasn’t concentrating. He was thinking too much.
He stopped thinking.
Stopped.
It wasn’t easy.
Every time he tried to stop thinking, it was like a thousand thoughts were knocking on the door of his mind, screaming to be let in.
He was doing it again. He was thinking about his thoughts. Dammit. OK. He was definitely going to stop now. Definitely.
Was Miss Wicked reading his thoughts right now? Was she checking on him? No. That could interfere with what they were trying to do. She wouldn’t do that. He hoped she wasn’t doing that. He hoped.
But what if she was?
So many thoughts about her, so many images, getting worse, filling his mind, one after the other, an unstoppable flow of images and thoughts and—
Take a breath.
She wasn’t reading his mind. Relax. Focus. Empty the mind.
Empty as a tin can. An empty tin can, not a tin can full of peas or something. Maybe it once had peas, but now it didn’t have anything. It was just—
That wasn’t working.
Not a can, then. A box. A box was better. An empty box. Obviously, an empty box. Maybe it had once been full, but now it was empty. Maybe it had been full of cans of peas.
Peas again. Why peas? Why was he thinking of—
OMEN!
Omen shrieked and fell out of his chair.
He hit the floor, eyes open, and Auger stood up, a delighted smile on his face.
“You heard that, right?” Auger asked. “You heard that?”
“I … I heard it,” said Omen.
“That was so cool,” Auger said, pulling him to his feet. “It was like there was a tunnel between us. Did you feel it?”
“Well done, gentlemen,” Miss Wicked said. “Auger, you spoke to Omen. Omen, did you answer?”
Omen hesitated.
“I think he was about to,” Auger said quickly. “I could feel him about to say something, but I think I did something wrong and I broke the link.”
“Is that so?” Miss Wicked murmured. “Omen, do you think you could re-establish that link?”
“Probably not,” he said.
“Could you try?”
“I … suppose.”
There was a knock on the door. Kase poked his head in.
“Miss Wicked, excuse me,” he said, “but could I, uh … Auger and Never are needed in the … the, um … They’re needed.”
Miss Wicked raised an eyebrow. “Are they now?”
Kase nodded. “Urgently. Please, miss.”
She sighed. “Auger, Never – it would appear that you’re needed elsewhere. I trust you won’t be long.”
“We’ll try not to be,” said Auger, suddenly all business, and the class watched as he followed Never out of the door.
They all knew what was going on. There was something happening, something terrible and something dangerous, and only Auger Darkly and his friends could stop it and save the day. The rest of them had to just sigh with envy and get back to work.
Except Omen didn’t really sigh with envy any more. He’d been in the thick of the action and he didn’t really want to be there again. Saving the day, in his experience, usually meant a lot of running and quite a bit of hiding, with some really scary bits in between. He was fifteen years old and in school. He had enough running, hiding and scary bits as it was.
Valkyrie roamed the halls of Corrival Academy, listening to the voices that rumbled behind the classroom doors. She wondered how differently she’d have turned out if this place had been around when she was a teenager. Maybe it would have steered her clear of the trouble that had lain ahead of her. Maybe it would have made things worse. Maybe she would have made some friends her own age. That would have been weird.
She’d tried to get Skulduggery to come with her to talk to Omen while they waited for Fletcher to become available. He’d tilted his head, told her he had someone else to talk to, but wouldn’t tell her who, and strode away.
She’d shrugged and walked in the opposite direction. For all she knew, he didn’t have anyone to talk to and he was just being mysterious. Probably hiding in a toilet cubicle somewhere, waiting for the time to pass.
The thought amused Valkyrie for a brief moment, because the truth was she was quietly happy that he’d gone off.
There were a lot of things she hadn’t got round to telling him yet, but the idea that she should let him know about her upcoming meeting with Caisson was pulling on her thoughts.
But no – as awful as it was to keep something from him, she couldn’t risk him scaring Caisson away. There was a part of Valkyrie that wanted to spring a trap on him herself – having Caisson in shackles would bring Abyssinia to her knees – but if there was even the slightest chance that meeting with Caisson could offer a solution to everything that had been going on …
Besides, as Dusk had mentioned, Caisson wasn’t actually an enemy. As far as Valkyrie knew, Caisson had done nothing wrong. In fact, he could conceivably be labelled a hero. He did kill Mevolent all those years ago, after all.
So she was going to keep it a secret, for just a little while longer. She’d tell Skulduggery afterwards. He’d understand – she was sure of it.
Militsa had told her where to go, so when the bell rang she was standing right outside Omen’s classroom. They came out, the chattering youth, and their eyes widened as they passed her. Some stared in wonder, others in fear.
Yeah, she could understand that.
And then Omen was there, standing in front of her. He’d grown taller since she’d seen him last.
“Happy birthday,” she said.
He looked puzzled. “Thank you?”
“I was just passing so I thought I’d drop by, see how you’re doing.”
“You … you dropped by to see me?”
“Well, we’re waiting until Fletcher – that’s Mr Renn to you – can take us somewhere, but yeah, I came to see you while I wait. Is that OK?”
“Sure,” Omen said. “I’m just … surprised.”
“Why? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
He blinked. “Are we?”
“Aren’t we?”
“I mean, yes, OK, we can be friends, sure.”
“Good.” They started walking. The crowds parted for them. “So how are things?”
“Great,” Omen said. “Yeah, great. Just … great.”
“Girlfriends?