Bedlam. Derek Landy

help you …?”

      “I haven’t been able to speak to Magenta,” Oberon said. “I haven’t been able to get close. She’s got the Seven-As-One guarding her.”

      Skulduggery grunted, then turned to Valkyrie. “The Seven-As-One are—”

      “Seven Sensitive siblings,” Valkyrie said, “who maintain a psychic link at all times. They’re used to guard people and places, making it almost impossible for anyone to sneak up on them without the alarm being raised.”

      Skulduggery tilted his head. “How do you know all that?”

      “I do get out every now and then,” she said, returning her attention to Oberon. “So you think your son is being held in the house across the road.”

      “I don’t know,” Oberon said, deflating slightly. “I only know that the people over there are sorcerers, and they’re involved. Maybe they have Robbie in there, maybe they don’t. But they definitely know more about what’s going on here than I do, so, if you wanna know who’s behind all of this, I’d say that helping me bust in there is a great place to start. And I ain’t gonna give you much of a choice in the matter. I’m going in.”

      He got out of the car and started striding across the road.

      “Oh, I like him,” Valkyrie said.

      “I thought you might,” said Skulduggery. “Go round the back, will you? Let’s at least pretend like we’re professionals.”

      

      Valkyrie put her boot to the door and it burst open and in she went, shock sticks swinging, catching the first guy in the jaw and the second guy in the knee, the back, and then the face. They both fell and she moved out of the kitchen, down the short corridor. There were a lot of crashes coming from the front of the house. Lot of cries of pain.

      A woman came hurtling out of a doorway, not even looking where she was going. Valkyrie jabbed her in her chest with both sticks and there was a flash and she went flying back.

      “Clear,” she heard Skulduggery say.

      “Clear,” she responded.

      She put her sticks away, forming a cross on her back, and stepped into the living room. Five unconscious people in here – one still conscious, bleeding from a busted nose and sitting on a chair. Skulduggery and Oberon stood over him.

      “What’s your name?” Skulduggery asked. The man twisted his lip as he was about to answer and Skulduggery hit him. “Rudeness will not be tolerated – let’s just make that clear right at the start. I’m Skulduggery, she’s Valkyrie, he’s Oberon. What’s your name?”

      The man spat out a tooth. “Sleave,” he said.

      “Where’s my son?” Oberon demanded.

      Sleave frowned. “How the hell would I know? Who’s your son?”

      “Robbie,” said Oberon. “His name’s Robbie.”

      “Ah,” Sleave said, “you’re his dad, are you? Not much of a family resemblance, if I’m being honest.”

      “Where is he?”

      Sleave held up his hands. “I refer you to my earlier reply. To wit: how the hell would I know?”

      “You move him around, don’t you?”

      “I did,” said Sleave, “with the rest of these mooks. Every week, we’d take the kid somewhere new and guard him, feed him, put up with his nonsense and take him to see his mommy two or three times a week. But recently we were informed that our services were no longer required. Sadly, I have been made redundant.” His voice suddenly filled with hope. “I don’t suppose you have any other kids we could kidnap, do you?”

      Oberon lunged and Skulduggery held him back, and Sleave laughed.

      Valkyrie hunkered down in front of him. “How long were you on this particular job?” she asked.

      Sleave shrugged. “Four months, maybe five.”

      “So you’re not the first to keep him moving around.”

      “And we’re not the last, either.”

      “Who’s your boss?”

      “We’re freelance. We don’t have a boss.”

      “Then who hired you? Who gave you your instructions? Who did you report to?”

      Sleave grinned. “The answer to all those questions is the same name, and I’ll tell you what it is – providing you let us go.”

      “I’m afraid that’s not how it works.”

      “Then you should probably change how it works, because you may have come in here and kicked all our asses, and some of them twice, but, from where I’m sitting, I’m the one in the position of power.”

      “Careful now,” Valkyrie said. “We can always send a Sensitive into your head, and who knows what they might scramble while they’re in there.”

      Sleave didn’t look too worried. “You don’t think I’ve got defences for that sorta thing? Sure, those defences don’t last forever, but I’d hold out for as long as I could, just out of spite. Let us go. All of us. Even the stupid ones. Then I’ll tell you the name of the man you’re looking for.”

      With Oberon now at the other side of the room, Skulduggery straightened his tie. “We won’t do that,” he said. “But you tell us his name, and, when we’ve verified that you told us the truth, then we’ll let you go.”

      “That’s more like it!” said Sleave. “See, girl, this is how you negotiate! May I stand?”

      “By all means,” said Skulduggery.

      Sleave stood. “I like your counter-offer, Mr Pleasant. It shows potential. But we’re not gonna be able to accept this whole being released afterwards thing. The problem is, yeah, we’re criminals, and so decidedly untrustworthy – but you’re Sanctuary folk, and so you’re absolutely untrustworthy.”

      “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