“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 to be. It’s a balancing act. If you tip too far one way or the other, you fall off the wire. People like us, Valkyrie, it’s our purpose in life to walk that wire.”
She nodded, and looked out of the window. “I don’t think I’m as happy as I used to be.”
“It would astonish me if you were.”
“I’ve got issues. About everything that’s happened. I think I need to talk to someone.”
“You can talk to me.”
She smiled. “Thank you. But I think I have to talk to someone else. You’re … I don’t mean this in a bad way, but—”
“But I’m a part of the problem,” Skulduggery said.
“Yes. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m a bad influence, and I always have been. You need a professional. China has a few on her staff at the High Sanctuary.”
Valkyrie looked at him. “I might make an appointment, so.”
He nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“Would you ever consider it?”
He flicked the indicator and they overtook a slow-moving truck. “I’m too far gone, I’m afraid,” he said. “I have my demons, but they work to keep each other in check at all times. My mind is in a permanent state of finely tuned chaos that I would be loath to disrupt.”
“And you don’t think it’s too late for me?”
He angled his head towards her. “Your traumas have made you who you are, but they don’t define you. You can live with them, I have no doubt.”
Valkyrie nodded. She was satisfied with that. For the moment.
They got where they were going a little over an hour later. An operative from the American Sanctuary indicated the car on the other side of the street, the one Oberon Guile was sitting in. Valkyrie nodded her thanks to the operative, who ignored her, and drove off.
“I don’t think that guy appreciated handing this case over to us,” Valkyrie said as they parked. “Can we send him a muffin basket or something?”
“No.”
“Then can we get muffins?”
“Sure.”
They got out and Valkyrie crossed the road, approaching Oberon’s car with a bright smile on her face. She motioned for him to wind down the window, and as she reached the car Skulduggery slipped in the passenger side, gun levelled at Oberon’s midsection.