Bedlam

Caisson hugged himself and shook his head, muttering.

“What’s in there that’s so important for you?” she asked.

Caisson tapped his forehead. “It’s for my mind. My mind is … I can be quite erratic, and …”

“And there’s a cure for you in the asylum?”

He nodded. “A cure, yes. A cure for me in Greymire. K-49.”

“I know some really good doctors I could introduce you to. So does China, for that matter.”

Caisson blinked. “China …”

“China Sorrows. She raised you, right? She took you in and she raised you like you were her own child.”

His face contorted, hatred etched into every line and hollow. “China betrayed me. China gave me to Serafina to torture. She lies. She is nothing but darkness and coldness and lies. I’m going to kill her. We’re going to hunt her down and kill her, and kill anyone who stands with her. We’re going to tear her apart. We’re going to make her scream. We’re going to make her bleed. We’re going to—”

He stopped, breathing quickly, forcing himself to calm down. “No,” he said. “My only hope is K-49. My only hope is in Greymire Asylum. Find out where it is, and I’ll tell you where the Crenga is working now. Meet me here in two days. But … at night. I don’t like the day, it’s too … Meet me at night.”

“Monday night, then,” she said. “When it’s dark? Ten o’clock?”

“Yes. Yes, ten o’clock. At ten o’clock you will tell me what I need to know, and I will tell you how to find the creature you seek.”

(#ulink_1b9a56c7-ad0f-5910-96bb-b3e61a34f4f1)

All things considered, that had gone pretty well.

Valkyrie checked the time. Serafina wasn’t due to arrive for another ten minutes, and the High Sanctuary was only five minutes away. She’d make it over there by noon, no problem.

China had told her to dress formally, but she hadn’t quite known what that meant in this instance. She wasn’t going to be wearing a dress, she’d known that much. Nothing with heels, either. In the end, she had decided that black jeans and a smart coat were formal enough – plus, they allowed her to fight to the death if the situation called for it. Which was always a bonus.

This was a good day, Valkyrie decided. She hadn’t walked into a trap, and she’d managed to strike a deal with a guy who looked like he was barely keeping it together. If Skulduggery had been with her, she just knew he’d have said the wrong thing and it would all have imploded.

It was a good thing she hadn’t told him. It was definitely a good thing, and he would totally understand.

Totally.

She came round a corner, and braked.

There was traffic. There was actual traffic.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, craning her neck to see past the line of cars.

This was unheard of. For one thing, apart from Oldtown, the streets of Roarhaven were designed to flow unimpeded. That had long been a bragging point, another area where mages could feel smug when discussing their mortal cousins and their constant traffic woes.

For another, Valkyrie hadn’t even known that there were enough cars in Roarhaven to form a traffic jam. Most people here used the tram system.

“Why didn’t you all take the tram?” she shouted, even though no one could hear her.

People walked by. People crossed the road, darting between Valkyrie’s slow-moving car and the slow-moving car in front. Large groups of people. Very large groups. Some of them held signs.

She finally got closer, and a City Guard officer checked her Sanctuary tags and waved her into the Circle zone, and she sped down the ramp to the parking area beneath the High Sanctuary, then sprinted for the elevator tiles.

She rose up, into the foyer, looking around for someone she recognised. There were City Guard officers and Cleavers everywhere. Sanctuary staff rushed to and fro. The air had a nervous energy to it.

Cerise, holding a clipboard, saw her immediately, despite the chaos, and swept over to her, taking her gently by the arm. “You are required outside,” she said, the calm at the centre of this storm. “The High Superior is approaching Shudder’s Gate.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Valkyrie said. “I didn’t expect the traffic. There are a lot of people out there.”

“Yes,” said Cerise. “There are.”

The doors opened and a blast of noise hit them. It looked like the entire Circle zone was filled with people, divided by a thin line of Cleavers. More people joined either side. They waved placards. They shouted.

Cerise left her at the top of the steps and Valkyrie crossed an actual red carpet to hurry over to Skulduggery. He was in a dark blue three-piece with a crisp white shirt and a blue tie. His hat was perfectly placed.

“Just in time,” he said.

“This is a bigger deal than I’d thought,” she responded, actually having to raise her voice to be heard over the restless crowd.

“People have come from all over the world for this. Serafina Dey hasn’t been spotted in public for decades.”

“She has a lot of fans.”

He shook his head. “Only half of them are here supporting her. The others are protesting.”

Valkyrie took another look, and realised one half of the crowd was arguing with the other. She turned back to Skulduggery. “Cerise called Serafina the High Superior.”

Skulduggery said something that Valkyrie didn’t hear.

“What?” she said.

He stepped closer and extended his hands to either side, and the air around them rippled. Her ears popped slightly as the sound of the crowd was muted. “Is that better?” he asked, keeping his hands where they were.

“Much,” she said, speaking at normal volume again.

“Serafina is the head of a different branch of Faceless Ones disciples,” he told her. “The Legion of Judgement.”

Valkyrie nodded. “Now that sounds like a fun and accepting place of worship.”

“The Legion views Mevolent as their messiah, and reckons that his interpretation of their teachings – and I would use air quotes here if my hands were free and if I were the sort of person to use air quotes – is the true way. Creed, on the other hand, has a supposedly gentler approach.”

“But Creed denounced Mevolent during the war for being too soft.”

“And yet now the Church is all about fluffiness and acceptance. Makes you wonder if Arch-Canon Creed is being entirely honest, doesn’t it?”

“He must love the fact that Serafina’s visiting.”

“The visit has, I’ve heard, caused something of a split within his congregation, but I’m sure there’s a part of him, tucked away somewhere, that will be happy to see his little sister after all these years.”