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Bedlam. Derek LandyЧитать онлайн книгу.

Bedlam - Derek Landy


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“but … like, is this a new thing? I mean, I’m thrilled for you, I really am. Militsa is so cool and so, so nice. I’m happy you’re happy, basically. But did you … was there an awakening or …?”

      “Wow,” said Valkyrie. “An awakening.”

      “I don’t really know what I’m trying to say.”

      “Do you want me to sit you down and go through it all?”

      Fletcher brightened. “Would you?”

      “No,” said Valkyrie. “I liked boys. And I appreciated how girls looked, but they never really registered with me in that way until I got a bit older.”

      “So there was no big bombshell moment when you realised?”

      “Not really. Just a growing certainty.”

      “And is Militsa your first—”

      “Not going to go into too much detail, Fletch.”

      “Right, yes, of course. Boundaries.”

      She smiled. “I have no boundaries, you should know that by now. But I’m not going to go into detail because Skulduggery’s just arrived.”

      “Ah,” said Fletcher, and turned to Skulduggery, standing in the doorway. “Skulduggery, I know you don’t indulge in small talk, so all I’ll ask is: where do you need to go?”

      “Seattle,” Skulduggery said.

      “Seattle,” Fletcher repeated, clapping his hands. “Home to Nirvana, Soundgarden and Jimi Hendrix. I can take you to the site of the first Starbucks, which is no longer there, or the Space Needle, which is still there, or the airport. Which is still there, too.”

      “We’ll need to rent a car,” Skulduggery said, “so the airport would be handier.”

      “You got it,” said Fletcher, and narrowed his eyes.

      After a moment, Valkyrie asked, “Is everything OK?”

      “I’ve been trying to do what Nero does,” Fletcher said. “He doesn’t need to be in physical contact with other people in order to teleport with them. I can’t seem to figure out how he does it, though.”

      “Nero’s a Neoteric,” Skulduggery said. “That means even he doesn’t know how he does it. You should stick to the old-fashioned method.” He put his hand on Fletcher’s shoulder. “It’s what you do best.”

      Fletcher looked at his hand, then smiled. “Thanks, Skulduggery. Your support means a lot to me.”

      “I’m just waiting for you to teleport.”

      “Oh,” Fletcher said, and Valkyrie laughed at him.

       The Borough Press

      Fletcher took them to Sea-Tac Airport and then teleported away, leaving them to rent a car. There was snow on the ground, turned to brown mud by the side of the roads. Once they were driving, Valkyrie was able to tell Skulduggery about Tanith’s arrival, and Alice’s hamster, and the rerun of the vision about Omen and Auger.

      She didn’t tell him about Caisson, though. She was going to keep that to herself until after their meeting.

      “I’ve been having this vision since before Abyssinia returned,” she said, “and not a whole lot about it has changed. Auger’s still injured. Omen still dies.”

      “The more information we get about it, the better our chances of averting it,” Skulduggery responded. “The latest detail you picked up was that it happens here, in America – possibly in Oregon. It stands to reason – though I make no assumptions – that what we are investigating now is somehow linked to what happens to the Darkly brothers in an indeterminate amount of time. So I would suggest that we continue as we are, and learn as much as we can about what’s going on.”

      “But we’ve got so many things going on,” Valkyrie countered. “We’ve got Alice’s soul to heal, President Flanery’s missing aide to investigate and now we have Temper’s melty-face people to find.”

      “Kith.”

      “Melty-face people is more descriptive. My point is, we can’t do everything.”

      “Of course we can,” Skulduggery said. “We’re Arbiters. We’re detectives. We have incredible bone structure.”

      “All that is undeniable, but aren’t we in danger of missing something if we have all these different things calling out for our attention? I don’t want to lose a chance to find Doctor Nye because we’re chasing down a lead on Flanery’s assistant.”

      He shook his head. “Flitting between investigations will keep us sharp, and prevent us from developing tunnel vision. It’s a good thing to be so busy.”

      “I told Omen to stay out of America for the next few weeks,” Valkyrie said. “Do you think that was a good idea?”

      “Yes.”

      “OK.”

      “Unless by telling him to stay out of America you’ve inadvertently set him on a collision course with the events you saw in your vision.”

      “Oh, God. Do you think I have?”

      “Probably not.”

      “Phew.”

      “But maybe.”

      “Skulduggery, I swear to God …”

      They turned right at a junction. “When it comes to visions of the future, we can’t know anything,” he said. “We could continue on exactly as we are and not one thing you saw will actually come true. Or we could second-guess every decision we make from now until then, and the future would happen just as you foresaw. From what we know, there are an infinite amount of possible futures that stem from any given moment. Sensitives can glimpse one of these possible futures, but there’s no way of knowing how close it is to what will eventually transpire.”

      Valkyrie let his words soak in. They didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, they made her glum. Which in turn made her wonder.

      “Am I as much fun as I used to be?” she suddenly asked.

      “No,” Skulduggery said immediately.

      She shot him a look. “You could have taken a little more time to think about it.”

      “You’ve had a lot on your mind for the last thirteen years,” he responded. “First you found out that your uncle had been murdered, then you had to help save the world, then you met some transdimensional supergods, after which you found out that you were this Darquesse person that all the Sensitives were so worried about. Then you thought you were going to be the Death Bringer, then Darquesse emerged, and then she took over your body, and then you died, and then you had to fight her, and then you were in America for five years to recover, and now you’ve come back and you’ve had to rescue your sister from a serial killer who blamed you for the death of his serial-killer apprentice, and now this whole thing with Alice’s soul … But I think there was maybe a three-week gap somewhere in there, before things got too serious, when you were what could be considered fun.”

      She grunted. “We’ve been busy.”

      “Yes, we have.”

      “And do you think I’ve become too … serious?”

      “It’s a serious world.”

      “That doesn’t answer the question.”

      “You’re as serious as you need to be,” said Skulduggery. “And you’re as flippant as you need


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