Bedlam. Derek Landy

implications of what I have to tell you.”

      “Sounds ominous.”

      “Oh, it is,” said Brate. “I mean, I think it is. I don’t have the full story, and you’ll certainly know more about this than I do, but … but I had to tell someone. For years, I’ve been … I mean, I have been devout, you know? My family have worshipped the Faceless Ones, we’ve gone to church, we’ve done the prayers, the offerings, read the Book of Tears …”

      “I’ve got some friends coming,” Temper said. “They’ll want to hear this, too.”

      Brate frowned. “What friends?”

      “Trusted friends. Don’t worry, you’re quite safe with them.”

      “I don’t know, man. I find it very hard to trust people. I’m a naturally paranoid person, you know?” He spun suddenly. “What the hell is that?”

      “That’s a wall, Adam.”

      “Oh,” said Brate, calming down. “Sorry. I’ve also taken a buttload of drugs over my lifetime? So I kinda see things that aren’t really there?”

      “Good to know. Ah, here are my friends now.”

      Brate turned as Skulduggery and Valkyrie walked in.

      “That’s … that’s Skulduggery Pleasant.”

      “Yes,” said Temper.

      “That’s Skulduggery Pleasant and Valkyrie Cain.”

      “It is.”

      “Oh, I don’t know about this,” said Brate. “I don’t know. I mean, these guys … Trouble follows these guys around, you know? I don’t wanna get killed, man.”

      “You won’t.”

      They came over, and Temper nodded to them. “Skulduggery, Valkyrie, this is the gentleman I asked you here to meet.”

      Brate stuck out his hand. Skulduggery shook it. “Dude. Adam Brate’s my name. I know who you are, of course, and I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”

      Skulduggery tilted his head. “Is that so?”

      “You have no idea, man. No idea at all. I just need someone to take me seriously, you know? Someone to believe me. I’ve been warning people about this for years, but no one has listened. Now, after all this time, I have the three of you.” He switched his attention to Valkyrie, shook her hand vigorously. “I feel like I know you already, I really do. Oh, hey, I apologise for wearing the sunglasses, you know? Not making eye contact? See, I’m in disguise. I think it’s safer for me if you don’t know who I am.”

      Valkyrie frowned. “But you just told us your name.”

      Brate stopped shaking her hand. “Aw, hell.”

      “Adam has some important information to share,” Temper said quickly. “That’s what you told me, right, Adam? Why don’t we get down to business?”

      “Yeah, man,” said Brate, “OK. Well. I’m … I was telling Temper here that I am, or I was, up until recently, a devout member of the Church of the Faceless. My family, back in California, were fanatical, and that’s how I was raised. I kinda drifted away in my adult years, but a few years ago the True Teachings were introduced, and I came back.”

      Valkyrie frowned. “The True Teachings?”

      “Peace and love,” said Brate. “The idea that the Faceless Ones were bringers of warmth and harmony instead of, you know, oppression and death.”

      “Ah,” said Valkyrie. “You’re talking about the Great Pivot.”

      “Am I?”

      “It’s what we call it,” Skulduggery said. “The Church needed to soften its philosophies in order to be allowed to practise, and suddenly they were all about sweetness and light.”

      Brate seemed a bit put out by that. “That’s a … that’s a cynical way to view what happened, man. Warmth and harmony have always been part of what the Faceless Ones promised us.”

      “Providing we worship them,” Skulduggery said.

      “Well, yeah,” said Brate. “But that’s the same with all religions, right? Obey our rules, worship our gods, and you’ll be rewarded, and the non-believers will burn in whatever hell we imagine there to be.”

      “I think we’re getting a little sidetracked here,” said Temper.

      “Yeah, sorry,” Brate said. “My thoughts and feelings towards my religion are not actually relevant to what I have to say. I don’t think they are anyway. I dunno. I’m conflicted. But I have to do what I think is right.”

      Temper hoped his smile was both patient and reassuring. “Why did you bring us here, Adam?”

      “Arch-Canon Creed,” said Brate, squaring his shoulders. “He’s resumed his search for the Child of the Faceless Ones.”

      Temper’s chin dipped to his chest. “Damn.”

      “I’m sorry,” Valkyrie said. “The search for who?”

      “The Child of the Faceless Ones,” said Brate. “The offspring. The heir.”

      Valkyrie frowned. “The Faceless Ones had a kid?”

      “Temper,” Skulduggery said, “do you want to take this?”

      “I guess,” Temper muttered. He took a breath before speaking again. “OK, so, according to the legends, back when the Faceless Ones ruled the earth, before the Ancients rose up against them, they didn’t need human vessels. Back then, for whatever reason, they could survive in this reality in their true forms. But then the Ancients did something to turn the environment inhospitable, and, from that point on, the Faceless Ones needed to possess human bodies.”

      Valkyrie nodded. “I’ve seen that happen. Continue.”

      “The vessels didn’t exactly last too long, so most of the time the bodies would burn themselves out and the Faceless Ones would vacate them, move on to the next, and then the next, leaving a trail of burnt-out corpses behind. But sometimes they vacated the body before it burned out, and, if that happened, the person would return to normal.”

      “I‘ve understood all of this so far,” Valkyrie said. “This is good. Go on.”

      “So we’re left with a few ex-vessels getting back to their old lives,” said Temper, “and, for the most part, everything is the same – except for the slight alteration that has been made to their DNA. Nothing obvious. Nothing that changes their appearance or behaviour, nothing that changes their personalities. Nothing to mark them out. These ex-vessels have children, and pass on this particular strain of DNA. Generation after countless generation. We emerge from the mists of time, venture into recorded history, and still we go on. Generation after generation.”

      Valkyrie frowned. “So there are people out there, in the world, with Faceless Ones DNA? Seriously?”

      Temper nodded. “And Arch-Canon Creed wants to find them.”

      “One, actually,” Skulduggery interjected.

      “Yes,” said Temper. “He’s looking for one in particular.”

      “To do what?” Valkyrie asked.

      “Bring about the end of the world,” said Brate, eager to get involved in the conversation again. “Call the Faceless Ones back, man. Have them wipe the earth clean and allow their disciples to live in ecstasy for all eternity – while the rest of you heathens burn and die.” His smile faltered. “Which is, obviously, not cool.”

      Valkyrie stood there with her hands on her hips – one of those hips cocked. “How many?” she asked. “How many people are out there who are, you know, actually descended from insane