Derek Landy

Bedlam


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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.”

      Valkyrie’s eyes widened. “They’re brother and sister? Did everyone know this except me?”

      “Probably.”

      She glared. “You did this before.”

      “Did I?”

      “With China and Mr Bliss. You didn’t tell me they were brother and sister until, like … Well, I don’t think you did tell me. I think someone else did.”

      “Magical society is a small world,” Skulduggery said. “People have brothers and sisters all over the place, right where you least expect them. Parents, too. Cousins, aunts and uncles.”

      “And everyone looks the same age,” Valkyrie said. “I’ll never get used to that part of it. So which is bigger – the Legion of Judgement or the Church of the Faceless?”

      “The Church has more physical places of worship, but most worshippers keep their membership secret, so it’s very hard to say which is bigger – and more and more mages are turning to the Faceless Ones with every week that passes.”

      Valkyrie made a face. “Why?”

      “People need something to believe in. Even sorcerers. The more they learn, the more they uncover about life and magic and alternate universes, the more they search for a greater meaning.”

      “But the Faceless Ones don’t care about any of them.”

      “People are strange,” Skulduggery said, and brought his hands back together, and the noise closed in on them once more.

      The three Elders arrived, nodded to Skulduggery and Valkyrie, and took up their positions in front of them. Then China came out, looking amazing. She winked at Valkyrie and took her place at the very top of the stairs.

      The crowd went quiet as Serafina’s convoy came into view – black cars and SUVs, reinforced with armour and with protective sigils engraved into their doors. The Cleavers directed them round and then through the Circle, making sure they stayed clear of the grasping, clutching hands of the people. As they neared, colour washed across the air, and Valkyrie realised that the High Sanctuary’s force field had been extended. A section opened so that the convoy could pass through.

      It stopped at the base of the steps. One of Serafina’s security people, a woman in black, opened the door to the middle car, and Serafina Dey stepped out.

       The Borough Press

      She was … glorious.

      Tall and solid and strong, Serafina wore a red dress, stained black at the edges. The skirt wrapped tightly around her waist and flared out at the ends. The bodice had a ribcage – made of actual ribs – and it opened at the chest to reveal a necklace of finger bones. Bracelets, also made of bone, rattled on her left wrist. Her long chestnut hair was held back by a headpiece formed from what looked like a human skull.

      “Jeepers,” Valkyrie whispered.

      Half the crowd cheered with bottomless adoration. The other half hurled insults and obscenities. It would have been amusing if the wide-eyed fanaticism wasn’t so scary.

      Serafina ascended the stairs alone. Once at the top, she embraced China.

      “My magnificent girl,” Serafina said. “It’s so good to see you again after all these years.”

      “You look radiant,” China responded.

      Serafina kissed both China’s cheeks. “As do you. Belated congratulations on your new position. You thoroughly deserve it. If anyone can whip the Sanctuaries into shape, it’s you.”

      China smiled. “You’re far too kind. Allow me to introduce you to my Council of Advisors. This is Grand Mage Aloysius Vespers of the English Sanctuary.”

      Vespers shuffled forward and struggled to bow. “Welcome to Roarhaven, High Superior! The tales of your legendary beauty are all true, I see, even to old eyes such as mine.”

      Serafina bowed slightly. “Have we not met before, Grand Mage? You seem familiar to me. Perhaps without the beard …”

      Vespers chuckled. “I am afraid not, High Superior. I would remember meeting someone as striking as you.”

      He shuffled back and Praetor stepped forward.

      “This is Grand Mage Gavin Praetor,” said China, “of the American Sanctuary.”

      Praetor bowed deeply, but kept his eyes locked on Serafina’s. “It is an honour, High Superior, to be in the presence of someone so bewitching.”

      “Surely, Grand Mage, you are used to it by now,” Serafina responded. “Is the Supreme Mage not more bewitching than I? Is she not the most beautiful woman you’ve ever laid eyes upon?”

      Praetor smiled. “I would certainly not like to choose between you, High Superior.”

      “How thoroughly gracious,” Serafina said.

      “And this is Grand Mage Sturmun Drang, of the German Sanctuary,” said China. “I believe you know each other.”

      Drang gave a curt bow. “High Superior.”

      Serafina smiled. “No exaltations about my timeless beauty, Sturmun? I can call you that, can’t I? I believe once you make an attempt on someone’s life you grant that person permission to use your first name.”

      Drang remained impassive. “That was a long time ago.”

      Serafina’s