Daemons Are Forever

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Truth, and Other Things, Will Out

I threw everyone out, as fast as I could without being too obvious about it. I sent Giles Deathstalker away with the Sarjeant-at-Arms, to discuss new training programs for the family. Between the two of them, I’d bet on our army against anyone else’s. Harry and Roger stalked off all on their own, no doubt to stir up new mischief somewhere else. Neither of them even looked back at me as they left. And after a discreet pause, Molly and I said good-bye to Freddie, and to Strange, and we went looking for some empty place where we could talk safely together, in private.

People looked at us as we walked through the corridors. No one actually cheered or booed, they just watched us and kept their thoughts to themselves. Most just looked like they were waiting for someone to tell them what to do for the best. I knew exactly how they felt.

Molly and I finally ended up in the main dining room at the back of the Hall. It was completely deserted, in between shifts, the rows of tables standing silent and waiting under their pristine white tablecloths. It was hard to believe that eighteen months has passed since we were last here. Molly and I sat down facing each other, and I suddenly realised I didn’t have a single clue what to say. What do you say when the woman you love is dying?

“It’s not like we haven’t been here before,” Molly said kindly. “Remember when you were infected by the strange matter, and we both thought you only had a few days to live? We didn’t sit around crying our eyes out; we just got on with business. We survived that. We’ll survive this.”

“How do you feel?” I said. “I mean, really; do you feel any…different?”

“I can feel…something else inside me,” she said slowly. “Like after a large meal. A feeling of… heaviness. As though there’s more of me now. My standard magical protections are containing it, for the moment.” She smiled briefly. “But then, I would say that, wouldn’t I? If I were already a Loathly One drone, in mind as well as body.”

“No,” I said. “I’d know the difference. I could tell if you weren’t…you.”

“Yes,” she said. “You probably could.”

“Let’s talk about something else, just for a while,” I said. “Give us a chance to sneak up on the main subject, maybe catch it by surprise.”

“All right. What did you have in mind, Eddie?”

“Well…what was all that business with Heaven and Hell, and I’ve been around?”

“Ah,” said Molly. “Yes … I suppose that had to come out eventually. You’ve been very good, Eddie, really you have; not asking too many questions about what I did, and what I promised, to gain my magical powers. Possibly because you were afraid of what the answers might be. Well, relax, sweetie, I haven’t sold my soul to anyone. I made a series of pacts and deals down the years, with various Powers. Some Infernal, some Heavenly, a few alien… And I paid for my magic with years off my life. Don’t look like that, Eddie; I never wanted to grow old anyway. Now, of course, it would appear the whole question has become irrelevant. My various debtors were paid with years from my putative old age, and now it seems more than likely I won’t get that far. The thing growing inside me will take me long before my allotted time.”

“Not while I’m here,” I said. “I’ll never give up on you, Molly. There must be something we can do. This is Drood Hall; we work miracles for the world every day. I have the right to expect one small miracle, just for you. You know … I could get you a torc. Strictly speaking, it’s forbidden for anyone not of Drood blood, but I’m sure Strange would help. I probably wouldn’t even have to explain why. He’s very understanding, for an inexplicable other-dimensional being.”

“It’s a nice thought, Eddie, but I don’t think it would work. The torc didn’t help Sebastian, except to help him hide his condition.”

“Okay, scratch that idea. How about the Armourer? He’s created enough wonders for the family; he can create one more for me. For you.”

“But then we’d have to tell him everything. How much can we trust him? I don’t want to end up in a cage, like the others. Not while there’s still work to be done.”

“Do you feel up to fighting in the field?” I said.

“When I don’t, then you’ll know there’s something seriously wrong. Physically, I feel fine. No different at all. My magic is insulating me from whatever changes are beginning. Mentally…” Molly cocked her head slightly on one side, as though listening. “It’s like there’s another voice in my head, me but not me, distant but distinct, faint but insistent.”

“What’s it saying?” I said, as casually as I could.

“Smoke crack and worship Satan. No, I can’t tell. It’s too far away. It doesn’t sound like anything…bad.”

A sudden rush of helplessness ran through me. I wanted to get up and run around the room, overturning the tables and kicking the chairs out of the way. I needed to be doing something, anything…but I made myself sit there, quiet and calm. I couldn’t let Molly see how worried I was. So we just sat there, together, facing each other across the empty table.

“What are we going to do?” I said finally. “We can’t tell anyone. We can’t trust anyone. Not with this.”

“We stay calm and focused,” said Molly. “Actually, I think I’m coping with this rather well, don’t you? I thought I’d be having panic attacks by now, and hyperventilating into a paper bag. You’re the one who looks like you might break down into hysterics at any moment.”

I smiled briefly. “Never could hide anything from you, could I?”

Molly put out her hands to me, and I took them both in mine. She looked at me earnestly. “I need you to be strong for me, Eddie, so I can be strong. We can beat this. We can.”

“You know,” I said, just a bit wistfully, “when I saved the family from the Heart, and put an end to all the old evils, I really thought things would improve. I should have known better. What are we going to do, Molly?”

“We destroy the Loathly Ones, and all their works,” Molly said firmly, squeezing my hands hard. “And along the way, we keep our eyes open for something we can use as a cure. Failing that…you kill me, while I’m still me. Before I become something we’d both hate.”

“I couldn’t do that,” I said.

“You have to, Eddie. Just in case I’m not strong enough to do it myself.”

We looked at each other for a long time, holding onto each other the way drowning men clutch at straws.

“Why haven’t you turned me in?” Molly said finally. “Why haven’t you told everyone that I’m infected, and a danger to the family? You know you should. It’s your duty.”

“I’ll decide what’s my duty and what isn’t,” I said. “The most important thing for me is to save you. I brought you here, made this possible, so it’s all my fault.”

“Oh, Eddie. I never knew anyone so ready to blame themselves for everyone else’s problems.”

“I will do whatever it takes to save you, Molly. If you believe nothing else, believe that. There has to be an answer.”

“And if there isn’t?”

“Then I’ll make one.”

We talked some more, but didn’t really say anything. Just the normal, reassuring things you say when you’re afraid in the dark. And in the end we had to leave so I could go about my business. My whole family was depending on me, not just Molly. And I’ve always known my duty to my family. Damn them. I sent Molly down to the Armoury, to Uncle Jack. She could talk about the problem to him, in general terms, and see what he had to say.

And I… went to see my grandmother.

According to Harry, she was ill, too ill to see anybody, but that was an old trick where the Matriarch was concerned, and she just didn’t feel like talking to anybody. So I made my way up to her private suite on the top floor, and wasn’t all that surprised to discover two more of Harry’s overmuscled thugs standing guard outside the door. They took one look at me approaching and both of them armoured up immediately. It would seem word had already got around as to what I’d done to the other bullyboys. I strolled up to the two guards, armour down, doing my best to radiate casual unconcern. They both moved slightly but definitely to block my way.

“Sorry,” said the one on the left. “The Matriarch is not to be disturbed. We have our orders.”

“Not to be disturbed at all,” said the one on the right. “Under any circumstances.”

“I just said that, Jeffrey,” said the first guard.

“Well, I never get to say anything,” said the second. “You’re always leaving me out of things, Earnest.”

“Look,” said Earnest, “can we please talk about this later?”

“You never want to talk about anything, you.”

Earnest sighed loudly behind his golden mask. “You’re not still mad about that party, are you?”

“Party? What party?”

“You are; you’re still mad about it.”

“You went off and left me all on my own!” Jeffrey said hotly. “You knew I didn’t know anyone else there!”

“I’ve said I’m sorry, haven’t I? What else can I say?”

“You could let me do the threats. You never let me do the threats.”

“That’s because you’re no good at them,” Earnest said patiently.

“I could be! A bit of practice, and I could be very good at them!”

“All right! All right, then. You go ahead and do the threats. I’ll just stand here and watch. Maybe I’ll pick up a few tricks.”

“Excuse me,” I said.

Jeffrey turned to confront his partner. “You’re going to make remarks, aren’t you? Loud and sarcastic remarks.”

“No, I won’t!”

“Yes you will! You’re always criticising, you. You never let me do anything fun!”

“I’m letting you do the threats, aren’t I? Look; I’ll even let you hit him first. How about that?”

“Really?” said Jeffrey. “I can hit him first?”

“Course you can! Go ahead, enjoy yourself!”

“Thanks, Earnest. That means a lot to me. You’re a good friend…”

“Oh get on with it, you big softy. Kick his head in.”

I decided I’d heard about as much of this as I could stand. I took out the Merlin Glass, shook it out to full size, activated the teleport function, and then clapped the mirror over both of the guards in turn, sending one to the Antarctic and the other to the Arctic. Then I shook the mirror down and put it away, and smiled at the empty corridor.

“If you bump into the Vodyanoi Brothers,” I said, “say hi for me.”

I knocked politely on the Matriarch’s door, and tried the handle, but it was locked. I waited for a while, but no one opened it. I knocked again, putting a bit more effort into it, and then the Matriarch’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Who is it? Who’s there?”

“It’s Eddie, Grandmother. I’m back. Can I come in and talk with you?”

“The door is locked. And I don’t have a key.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “All right, Grandmother. I’ll soon have the door open. Stand back.”

“Don’t you dare break my door down, Edwin Drood! It’s a valuable antique!”

I sighed quietly, just to myself. “All right, Grandmother. Give me a moment.”

I knelt down and studied the lock. Old-fashioned, sturdy, no problem at all. I armoured up my right hand, concentrated, and a thin extension of the golden strange matter slipped forward into the lock, shaping itself to fit the interior exactly, moulding itself into a key. The tasks and skills of a Drood field agent are many and varied. I unlocked the door, armoured down, pushed the door open, and entered into the Matriarch’s waiting room.

She was standing right in the centre of the antechamber, all alone. The room seemed very big and empty without the usual attendant crowd of family and friends and well-wishers. The Matriarch herself seemed somehow smaller, diminished. She was doing her best to stand tall and proud, as always, but for the first time I could see the effort. She was dressed formally, but her long mane of gray hair hung carelessly down, instead of being piled up on top of her head. She nodded stiffly to me, a stick-thin old lady with nothing much left but her dignity.

“Edwin. It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Grandmother. May I ask; how did you come to be locked up in your own rooms?”

“I have been held prisoner!” she said angrily, almost spitting out the words. “Harry has kept me under guard for months, forbidden to communicate with the rest of the family.”

“Why would he do that?” I said.

“Because I found out what he is.” Martha looked at me suspiciously. “Did you know, Eddie? You always know things you’re not supposed to… No, of course not. You would have told me, something like that. Come into my private rooms, Edwin. I don’t feel safe talking out here; you never know who might be listening, these days.”

She led me through into the bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, keeping the room comfortably gloomy. Alistair was still lying flat on his back in bed, still wrapped up in bandages like a mummy. A single blanket covered him, hardly rising at all as he breathed. He didn’t react at all as Martha and I came in and shut the door. Martha looked at him expressionlessly.

“Don’t worry; he’s asleep. Doesn’t even know we’re here. He sleeps most of the time now. It’s getting harder and harder to wake him long enough to take his nourishment. He really should be down in the infirmary, but I hate to think of him lying there alone, with tubes in him. Everyone else is just waiting for him to die, but they don’t know my Alistair. He’s strong. A lot stronger than anyone ever gave him credit for. You’ll see; one day he’ll just wake up, and be himself again. Like a butterfly emerging from his cocoon. Sit down, Edwin.”

We sat down on comfortable chairs by the empty fireplace, facing each other. The Matriarch studied me intently for a long moment.

“You look… different, Edwin. Older. But then, you’ve been through so much, haven’t you? You’ve grown up. I knew it would happen eventually. It looks good on you… But so much has happened while you were away. A year and a half, Edwin! Where have you been all this time?”

“Travelling in time, Grandmother. I went into the future, and found a mighty warrior to bring back to aid the family. I was supposed to return only a few seconds after I left, but…”

The Matriarch sniffed loudly. “The Time Train. I might have known. There are good reasons why we never use the stupid thing. I could have told you it wasn’t dependable, but you didn’t ask anyone, did you? You were so sure you knew better… I should have ordered it dismantled years ago, but for this nagging feeling that someday the family might just need it…”

“What happened to you, Grandmother?” I said patiently.

“I have been kept prisoner in these rooms practically from the day you disappeared. Harry came to see me. He said it was necessary for him to take command of the family in your absence, and I was quite prepared to give him my blessing. You have to understand, Edwin; he said all the right things, promised me all the right things. He made me believe he embodied all the old traditional values of the family. Unlike you… But even though he was saying all the things I wanted to hear, I still didn’t entirely trust him. I’ve run this family too long to take anything or anyone at face value.

“So I had a quiet, very discreet word with the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Just to be sure. The Sarjeant didn’t want to tell me what he knew, but I made him tell me. And that was when I found out the truth about Harry. That he was a deviant, and an abomination! Bedding his own hellspawned half brother! And he dared look me in the eye and tell me he believed in the old family values! I summoned him here and confronted him with what I knew… He didn’t try to defend himself. Just sighed and shrugged, and said it didn’t matter. He had control of the family, and he didn’t need me anymore. He locked me in my own rooms, put his own guards at my door. They took care of all my needs, saw that Alistair and I never wanted for anything… but nothing I said or promised or threatened would sway them. They were Harry’s creatures. I haven’t spoken to another living soul in over a year.

“Oh, Harry sees that I’m kept informed about everything that’s happening. I get regular reports, and I’m invited to make useful comments… which I do. My duty to the family hasn’t changed. But you have to get me out of here, Edwin! Harry isn’t up to the job. The family is losing this war! You need my expertise and experience!”

“Yes,” I said. “We do. But I’m back, and I’m running things again, Grandmother. Running them my way. Are you ready to work with me, now?”

“Of course. I’ve had a lot of time to think about… things. You and I are never going to agree on many things, but the needs of the family must come first. And right now, it needs both of us.” She looked back at the still form on the bed. “He won’t miss me. He doesn’t even respond to my voice anymore. Any nurse will do, until he wakes.” She looked back at me. “I haven’t forgiven you, for what you did to him. I never will. But duty comes first. I’ve always known that.”

“Then I think you and I should go down to the War Room,” I said. “So you can take charge there. You know how to run it far better than I ever could. And they could use some… direction.”

The Matriarch looked at me squarely. “I’ll run the War Room; you run the war. We can discuss… other things, after we’ve won the war.”

I grinned. “Looking forward to it, Grandmother. But let’s be clear with each other. You need me, now that Harry has… disappointed you. That’s the real reason you’re going along with all this. You haven’t forgiven me for removing you from power and changing the way the family does things. And I haven’t forgiven you for all those children sacrificed to the Heart down the years. We can work together, and we will, because the family and the world needs us to. But understand, Grandmother; you make one move to undermine my authority, or try and seize control again, and I’ll have you marched straight back here and locked in again. For the duration.”

She smiled at me, that old, familiar, cold smile. “You see, Edwin, you do understand how this family needs to be run. I’ll make a Drood out of you yet. I agree to all your conditions. For the duration.”

I shook my head slowly. “Even when I win an argument with you, it feels like I lost. One last question, before we go. It’s becoming increasingly clear that there has to be a long-standing traitor, set deep inside the family. Someone, possibly infected by the Loathly Ones, perhaps even the person responsible for bringing them back here in the first place. Do you have any idea who that might be? Any name come to mind?”

She stared at me for a long moment. I think she was actually shocked. “A long-term traitor? Unsuspected since World War II? Impossible!”

“Unfortunately not, Grandmother. Are you sure no one comes to mind?”

“No. It’s unthinkable… But then, so much has happened that I would once have considered unthinkable. I will consult the old family records. See if anything jogs a memory.”

“Okay. Let’s go. The War Room awaits.”

“No,” said Martha. And just like that, all her old stern command was back in her voice. “There is still something that must be done immediately, for the good of the family. You must order the expulsion of Harry, and the execution of his hellspawn lover. They cannot be allowed to contaminate the family with their presence any longer.”

“No,” I said, my voice just as cold and stern as hers. “Harry’s a good field agent, with a lot of experience. We still need him. I won’t declare him rogue just because … I mean, come on, Grandmother; we’ve had gay people in the family for ages. You must have noticed.”

“Of course I’ve noticed! I don’t care that he’s a homosexual! Your generation thinks it invented sex and all its possibilities … I don’t give a damn that Harry is gay; I care that he’s taken his half brother as a lover! Incest like that is strictly forbidden in the Droods, Edwin. It has to be, or we would have become dangerously inbred by now. The vitality and vigour of the Drood bloodline must be strictly maintained; that’s why marriages are always so carefully considered and, if need be, disallowed. And above all, to take as his lover a thing from the Pit! I can’t believe that you allowed a hellspawn into the Hall, Edwin!”

“Roger is James’s son,” I said carefully. “He’s your grandson too, just like Harry and me.”

“He is a demon, and never to be trusted,” Martha said flatly. “Kill him, Edwin. For the good of the family and the sake of the world.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“That’s what I used to say to you, when you were a child, and I had no intention of doing what you wanted,” Martha said dryly.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “I am growing up, after all.”

We both stood up. The Matriarch stepped forward, and for a moment I thought she was going to shake my hand formally. Instead, she put her hands on my shoulders, squeezed them gently, and smiled at me.

“Make me proud, Eddie.”

“I’ll do my best, Grandmother.”

“I know you will.”

“Grandmother…”

“Yes, Eddie?”

“It was you who told the prime minister where and when to find me, when I went back to my old flat, wasn’t it?”

“Of course, dear. You see; you’re thinking like a Drood leader already.”

We summoned up a nurse to sit with Alistair, and then the Matriarch and I went down to the War Room. All along the way people stood and stared, and then broke into spontaneous applause. Some even cheered. No one had seen Martha in public for a year and a half, and now here she was walking by my side. Word went swiftly ahead of us, and by the time we’d descended to ground level, crowds were lining all the rooms and corridors to cheer our progress. The Matriarch ignored them all, her back stiff and her head held high, and they loved her for it. Some of the cheers and applause were for me, and I made a point of smiling and nodding, while being very careful not to let it go to my head.

When we finally strode into the War Room, an almost palpable wave of relief swept through the huge chamber. Men and women stood up at their consoles and workstations to cheer and clap us. A few actually whistled. Martha bowed once to the room, and then made a quick cutting gesture with one hand; and the applause stopped immediately. I don’t think I could have managed that on the best day I ever had. The Matriarch cracked out a series of brisk commands, her voice sharp and authoritative, and above all calm and businesslike; and soon people were back at work, bent over their various stations with new confidence and enthusiasm. Runners charged back and forth like mad things, gathering the latest information to bring the Matriarch up to date, while others made sure she was supplied with a fresh pot of tea and a new packet of Jaffa Cakes. Sometimes I think this family runs on tea and Jaffa Cakes.

I stood back and watched. It’s always a pleasure to observe a real professional at work.

The communications people soon had her in contact with all the world leaders: every government, country, and powerful individual who mattered. Display screens all around the War Room were filled with scowling faces, and translation programmes ran overtime as the Matriarch addressed them all with her usual cool authority. Many of the faces seemed relieved to see her back. Martha strode from screen to screen, speaking to everyone individually, and through a carefully calculated combination of calm reason, sweet talking, basic bullying, and the occasional reminder that she knew where all the bodies were buried, the Matriarch soon had all the most important people in the world falling over themselves to agree to work together on dealing with the Loathly Ones. They committed money, manpower, and military resources, and most importantly, they all agreed to keep the hell out of our way while we did what was necessary. Martha cut them off one by one, and then stretched slowly, luxuriously, like a cat. She seated herself with royal dignity at her command station and smiled briefly at me.

“And that, Edwin, is why the family has to be in charge. Because we’re the only ones equipped to see the really big picture, and remain independent enough that people will accept our advice as impartial. We can persuade anyone, regardless of politics, on what must be done for the good of all. You can never trust politicians to do the right thing, Edwin, because at heart all they really care about is staying in power. They live in the present; it’s up to us to take the long view.”

I just smiled, nodded, and said nothing. There would be time for philosophical arguments later, once we’d made sure there would be a later. I hung around just long enough to make sure she had things firmly under control, and then I left the War Room and went down to the Armoury, where Molly was waiting for me.

I was happy to find the Armoury back to its usual raucous and very dangerous self, complete with bangs, bright lights, and the occasional unfortunate transformation. Happy chaos and mayhem went on around me as I wandered through the Armoury in search of Molly and Uncle Jack. Now that the lab interns had their armour back, they had once again embraced their old daredevil practices, and were clearly back in their usual productive and self-destructive mind-sets.

In the firing range, half a dozen armoured forms were taking it in turn to test new guns on each other. The armour soaked up all kinds of punishment from projectile guns, curse throwers, and handheld grenade launchers. The noise in the confined space was appalling.

I still remembered the time the Armourer created a gun that fired miniature black holes. It took six people to wrestle him to the ground and sit on him, and then prize the damned thing out of his hand before he could demonstrate it.

One young lady was trying out the latest version of a teleportation gun. I stopped to watch. The family’s been trying to get the bugs out of that for years. Basic idea is very simple; you point the gun at something and it disappears. In practice, it tended to backfire a lot, and we lost a lot of interns. This particular intern was chained firmly to a bolt in the floor as she fired her gun at a target dummy. The dummy’s left leg disappeared and it fell over sideways. The intern whooped in triumph, did a little victory dance, and then the leg reappeared, flying straight at her with some force. Wherever the teleport gun had sent the leg, they clearly hadn’t wanted it.

Someone else was trying to get an invisibility cloak to work, but all it was doing was making the wearer partially transparent, so we could see all his insides working. Beauty really is only skin deep. A large explosion sent half a dozen armoured figures flying through the air. No one looked around. Two of the braver or perhaps more suicidally minded, interns were duelling with atomic nunchaku behind a portable radiation shield. Rather them than me. And one guy with a third eye in the middle of his forehead was flipping urgently through his notes trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Business as usual, in the Armoury.

I found Molly talking with the Armourer at his usual workstation. Or at least, Molly was listening while the Armourer talked. Apparently Uncle Jack was taking it very badly that his test to uncover drones in the family had failed. He broke off to glower at me as I joined them.

“About time you got back. I warned you; nothing good ever came of messing about with time travel.”

“I brought you back an energy gun,” I said.

He sniffed loudly. “I’ve seen it. It’s rubbish. I’ve dreamed up more destructive things during my tea break. And I don’t care what anyone says; my test was perfectly competent!”

“How did it work?” I said patiently.

He sniffed again, even more disparagingly. “Oh, like you’d understand, even if I explained it to you in words of one syllable, accompanied by a slide show.”

“Try me.”

“It checked, very thoroughly, for the presence of other-dimensional energies in the test subject. Basically, looking for anything that didn’t belong in our reality.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that should have worked.”

The Armourer scowled, fiddling absently with an oversized grenade on the table before him, until I took it away from him.

“We’ll just have to run everyone through the test again,” he said unhappily. “And this time, make allowances for the new torcs! Being other-dimensional things themselves, I should have realised they could be used to hide or distort the results…” He shook his head slowly. “I must be getting old. I never used to miss things like that.”

“You still build the best toys in the world, Uncle Jack,” I assured him.

He smiled briefly. “So, did you get a chance to try out my new teleport bracelet, this time?”

“Ah…” I said.

“It’s not fair!” the Armourer said bitterly. “I work every hour God sends, and a few he doesn’t know about, creating weapons and devices for this family, and then no one can be bothered to give them a decent bloody field test!”

“Look, I’ve been busy, all right?” I said. “There were an awful lot of people trying to kill me in the future.”

“Good,” said the Armourer.

“The important thing,” I said quickly, before he could slide into one of his sulks, “is why didn’t Sebastian’s torc protect him from the Loathly One in the first place? Even if it happened before he received his new torc, it should still have detected the infection within him and worked to destroy it. Instead, it seems Sebastian was able to use the torc to hide his infection from your test and the rest of the family.”

“Don’t look at me,” the Armourer said stiffly. “The family armour has always been a mystery. No one’s ever been too sure exactly how it does all the things it does. The old or the new. The Heart wouldn’t talk about it. Maybe Strange would… You should ask him, Eddie.”

“I already did,” I said. “He wasn’t much help.”

“Hmmm.” The Armourer leant back in his chair, scowling thoughtfully. “Well, theoretically… The infection by a Loathly One is as much mental and spiritual as it is physical. The mind is changed, reprogrammed if you like, and the body adapts to accommodate the changed mind’s needs. The torcs have always protected us from telepathic attack, and demonic possession…but this is something else. The Loathly Ones are, after all, merely the three-dimensional protrusions into our reality of much more powerful entities. The Many-Angled Ones, or Hungry Gods, come from a place where the rules of reality are very different…perhaps even superior to ours. If the Loathly Ones really are from a higher reality, so to speak, their presence might be enough to actually overwrite our natural laws with their own, though of course only in a limited way. You could see each new infection as a beachhead into our reality; every new drone helping to weaken local laws in favour of their own… Hmmm. Yes. A very worrying thought, that. But it does give me some new ideas I can add to my test. Now I know what to look for.”

“We don’t have much time, Uncle Jack,” I said.

“I know, I know! You always expect me to work miracles to an impossible deadline! It’s a wonder I’ve got any hair left at all. I’d have an ulcer, if I only had the time. You’ll have the new test by the end of the day. Now go away and bother someone else.”

“Actually,” said Strange, his voice booming suddenly out of somewhere close at hand, “now that I know what to look for, I can perform the test for you.”

“Jesus, Strange, don’t do that!” I said, as we all jumped. “Have you been listening in again? Even after we had that long chat about human concepts like privacy, good manners and minding your own business so as not to royally piss off everyone else?”

“But this is important, Eddie, really it is! I promise! I’ve already checked your whole family and its guests, and identified a number of infected drones.”

“How many?” I said, a sudden premonition sending a chill running through me.

“Twenty-seven,” said Strange.

Molly and I looked at each other, and then at the Armourer. He seemed to shrink in on himself. “That can’t be possible,” he said numbly. “I couldn’t have missed that many.”

“Are you sure, Strange?” I said. “You have to be really sure about this.”

“It’s not something I can be wrong about,” Strange said sadly. “The other-dimensional impact is really quite distinct. My torcs couldn’t protect you because the Hungry Gods come from a higher reality than mine. They scare me, Eddie. They could eat me up like a party treat.”

“Will everyone please stop panicking?” I said. “It’s very unnerving. I am in charge, therefore I am officially the only one allowed to panic. Everyone else; I’ll tell you when. Get a grip on yourself, Strange, or I’ll start to think you’re aren’t as important an entity as you like to make out. What matters is we can still win this. Now, Strange, talk to the Sarjeant-at-Arms, give him the relevant names, and have him take all the drones into custody. Very secure custody. Tell him to do it quietly and discreetly; no public violence unless absolutely necessary. We don’t want the rest of the family upset. I want all twenty-seven taken alive, and capable of answering questions.”

“Yes, Eddie. About Molly…”

“Not now, Strange,” I said steadily. “We’ll talk about that later.”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“Is something wrong with you, Molly?” said the Armourer. “You look very pale. And Strange sounded worried about you.”

“Oh, it’s just something that happened during our trip through time,” Molly said easily.

She distracted him with details about the yellow dragon and the Starbow, while I wandered off to do some thinking of my own. I’d hoped to find some way of discussing Molly’s problem with Uncle Jack, but this new emergency had to take precedence. Twenty-seven infected family, all working secretly to undermine and betray us? No wonder the war had been going so badly in my absence. There had to be an original traitor, embedded deep within the family, passing on his infection… Or could it be a Typhoid Mary, not aware of what they were doing? Something in that thought reminded me of an old worry that I hadn’t checked in on since I returned. I looked around me. Molly had Uncle Jack chuckling at her stories. The lab interns were all engrossed in their own dangerous business. So I found a quiet corner, hidden away behind a blast shield, and took out Merlin’s Glass. I commanded it to show me the present.

“Show me Penny Drood and Mr. Stab,” I said. “Where are they, right now?”

My reflection in the mirror vanished, replaced by a view of Penny in her room. She was sitting elegantly on the edge of her bed, idly kicking her long legs. She was wearing her usual tight white sweater over tight gray slacks, and looked her usual cool and collected self. And then the view seemed to pull back, showing me Mr. Stab, standing on the other side of the room, considering Penny thoughtfully. He was wearing a casual dark suit, and looked almost normal and everyday, until you took in his face, and his eyes. Even in repose, Mr. Stab looked like what he was. He might as well have had the mark of Cain branded on his brow. But Penny smiled at him, as though he were just another man.

“You don’t need to stand so far away. I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” said Mr. Stab.

“After all the time we’ve spent together? If you were going to hurt me, you would have done it long ago. But you’ve been here in the Hall for over a year, and you haven’t hurt anyone. You’re stronger than you think you are; I wish I could make you believe that.”

Mr. Stab smiled briefly. “If anyone could, it would be you.”

“Why won’t you tell me your real name? Mr. Stab isn’t a name; it’s a title, a job description.”

“You could always call me Jack.”

“No I couldn’t,” Penny said firmly. “That’s who you used to be, not who you are. I don’t think you realise how much you’ve changed during your time here. You have students and followers, your lectures are always packed; you have a place here, with us. With me. You’ve shown me sides of yourself you’ve never shared with anyone else. You’ve let me get closer than anyone else.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Stab. “I have.”

He moved over and sat down beside her on the bed. His back was straight and stiff, and he kept his hands together in his lap. Penny forced an arm through his, hugged it to her side, and then leant her blond head on his shoulder. He sat very still.

“I do care for you,” he said. “In my way.”

“It’s all right for you to care,” said Penny. “You’re allowed to care, to love.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Stab. “I can love. I have. But it always ends badly.”

Penny lifted her head and glared playfully at him. “You are the gloomiest person I know! It doesn’t always have to end badly. We’re the Droods, and we exist just to make sure that things don’t have to end badly! That’s our job.”

“My job is very different,” said Mr. Stab. “I have done…such terrible things, Penny.”

“Anyone can change,” said Penny. “Anyone can be saved. I’ve always believed that. The Mr. Stab I’ve come to know, and love … is very different from the stories I’ve heard. I love you, and you can love me.”

“I wish it was that simple, Penny.”

“It is that simple! And part of being in love is being together. Like this. How long has it been since you allowed yourself to be … close, to a woman?”

“A long time. I don’t want to hurt you, Penny.”

“You won’t! This is love, two people together. Just…let yourself go. Do what you want to. I want you to. It’s all right, really.”

“I love you, Penny,” said Mr. Stab. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Penny smiled and turned to take him in her arms, and then stiffened, and looked down at the long blade Mr. Stab had eased into her gut. There was hardly any blood yet. He turned the blade, and pulled it across, cutting deeper, and she cried out and grabbed his shoulders with both hands. The expression on her face was pure disbelief. She tried to push him away, but she didn’t have the strength, so she just hung onto his shoulders as he pulled the long blade out and stabbed her again. Blood spurted from the first wound, soaking the front of her sweater and splashing across the front of Mr. Stab’s jacket. His face was…quietly sad. Penny convulsed and cried out again. Blood flew from her mouth, spraying across Mr. Stab’s face.

I grew the Merlin Glass to full size the moment I first saw the knife, and I was already through the Glass and heading for Mr. Stab by the second attack, but already I knew I was too late. Mr. Stab let go of Penny and backed away as I headed for the bed. I let him go, intent only on Penny. I was already screaming mentally to Strange for help, and he was telling me help was on the way, but I knew it wouldn’t do any good. I leant over Penny and tried to close the wounds with my hands. Blood quickly soaked my arms to the elbow. She looked at me, jerking and kicking, and tried to say something, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was more blood. The bed was soaked in it now. She died in my arms, still trying to say something. I let her go. I stood up and moved away from the bed. There was blood all over me. I looked at Mr. Stab, still standing silently by the door. He could have left, could have run, but he hadn’t.

“I tried to tell her,” he said. “Tried to warn her. That… is all the pleasure I can know of a woman, now. Part of what I bought, along with my immortality…from my celebration of slaughter, when all of London knew my name. That… is all the love I can show. All that’s left to me. I tried so hard … to stay away from her. But I am…what I am.”

“I told you,” I said, and I could hear the cold cold rage in my voice. “I told you what would happen if you didn’t control yourself.”

I armoured up, grew a long golden blade from my hand, stepped forward, and cut off his head with one savage blow. He didn’t move, didn’t try to evade the blow. My golden blade sheared right through his neck, and the head fell to the floor and rolled away, the eyes still blinking and the mouth still working. I stood before the headless body, breathing harshly from the rage and grief still burning within me, and only slowly realised that the body hadn’t fallen. It just stood there, by the door. No blood spurted from the neck stump. And as I watched, the body stepped slowly forward, reaching out with its hands. I backed quickly away, but it wasn’t interested in me. One hand reached down and grabbed the severed head by its hair. I made some kind of sound. I don’t know what. The body lifted up the head and put it back on the stump, and the wound healed in a moment, leaving no trace behind.

Mr. Stab looked at me expressionlessly. “You think no one ever tried that before? I’ve been beheaded, shot, poisoned, staked through the heart… I can’t die. That is what I bought with the deaths of five whores in 1888. Immortality, whether I want it or not. I’m Jack, Bloody Jack, Jack the Ripper, now and forever. And the only love I can ever know, the only pleasure I can ever have of a woman, is through the knife. Send me out into battle, Eddie. Maybe the Loathly Ones can find some way to kill me.”

The door burst open as the medics arrived and rushed in, too late. Mr. Stab walked away as they clustered around the body, not looking back even once.

There was nothing I could do, so I transported myself back to the Armoury. It wasn’t as though I had anywhere else to go. Molly cried out when she saw the blood soaking me and hurried forward, running her hands over me to see where I was hurt. Uncle Jack started to shout for the Armoury’s medical staff, until Molly assured him I was okay. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t say anything. I held Molly tightly to me, and she let me, even though the blood soaked her too. I buried my face in her hair, in her shoulder, and she murmured soft, soothing words to me. Until finally I was able to let her go and stand back.

Molly took me by the hand and led me like a child to the nearest chair. I sat down heavily. I felt tired, drained. And finally, in a voice that didn’t sound like mine at all, I was able to tell them what had just happened. Uncle Jack found me some medicinal brandy and patted me awkwardly on the shoulder while I drank it. Then he moved away to call up the Sarjeant-at-Arms to get the details. Molly sat beside me, holding my hand.

After a while, Uncle Jack came back with some lab coats for me and Molly to change into, so we could get out of our bloody clothes. Molly had to help me undress. My hands were still shaking. We left the clothes in a heap on the floor. The lab coats were fresh and clean, and smelled of disinfectant.

“Talk to me,” I said. “Tell me something. Anything. I don’t care. I just need something to do, so I don’t have to think about Penny.”

“Well,” said Molly, glancing at Uncle Jack. “There is a problem, with the Blue Fairy.”

“When isn’t there?” I said. “What’s he done now?”

“He’s been kept under constant but covert surveillance by the Sarjeant-at-Arms ever since he got here,” said the Armourer. “And don’t look at me like that, Eddie; I know you vouched for him, but his reputation went before him. And anyway, he’s a half elf; and elves always have their own agenda. So, it seems he spent a lot of time in the old library, having a series of what he thought were casual and unobserved conversations with Rafe and William concerning the origins, powers, and capabilities of the Drood torc. When he’d pumped those two dry of everything they knew, he went to the source, and continued his questions with Strange. Very detailed questions. In fact, he’s in the Sanctity right now, according to the Sarjeant-at-Arms.”

“All right,” I said. “Let’s listen in.”

I used the Merlin Glass again, and as my reflection disappeared from the mirror I thought for one moment it would show me Penny and Mr. Stab again, and my heart almost stopped; but then the Glass showed me the Blue Fairy, standing alone in the Sanctity, calmly addressing the crimson glow of Strange. Blue was doing his best to seem entirely relaxed and at his ease, and perhaps only someone who knew him as well as I would have detected how tense he really was. Molly and Uncle Jack crowded in behind me, watching the scene over my shoulders.

“But what is it you want from me?” Strange was saying patiently. “We have had many fascinating conversations, Blue, and I have enjoyed them, but I really can’t keep going around in circles with you. Not when so much is happening. Just tell me what you want. I assure you, I have no human sensibilities to be offended.”

“Very well,” said the Blue Fairy. “If straight-talking is to be the order of the day … I want a torc. A golden torc for my very own, just like everyone else.”

“But you are not family,” said Strange. “You are not of the Drood bloodline. And it has been made very clear to me that only they can wear the torc. No exceptions. Why would you want a torc, Blue? You are half elf, with powers and abilities of your own.”

“Yes,” said Blue. “I have. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but…” He moved his hands in a certain way, the long, elegant fingers tracing unnatural patterns on the crimson air. “An exception has been made in my case. Give me a torc.”

“That was a very intriguing compulsion spell,” said Strange. “But of no avail against such as I.”

The Blue Fairy moved his hands more urgently, this time muttering urgently in old elvish under his breath. The air seemed to shudder under the impact of the ancient Words, and shimmering trails followed the Blue Fairy’s gestures, spitting discharging magics. And then something unseen picked up the Blue Fairy and threw him the length of the Sanctity. He slammed into the far wall with enough impact to kill a simple human, and then he slid slowly down it, ending up in a crumpled heap on the floor. He was breathing harshly, his hands limp at his sides.

“Oh dear,” said Strange. “And we were getting on so well, too… But no one compels me. What am I going to do with you? Something suitably unpleasant, I think, pour discourager les autres. Maybe I’ll turn you inside out, keeping you alive of course, and then put you on display. That should give you a whole new way of looking at things.”

I decided I’d seen enough. I opened up the Merlin Glass and transported myself into the Sanctity. Molly followed me through quickly before the doorway closed itself down.

“Ah, Eddie,” said Strange. “Eavesdropping again? And after all you had to say to me on the subject?”

“I’m in charge,” I said. “I’m allowed to be contradictory. In fact, I think it’s a job requirement. What was all that about turning the Blue Fairy inside out? I’ve never heard you sound threatening before.”

“He tried to compel me,” said Strange. “No one compels me. I help because I choose to. No other reason.”

“Of course,” I said. “But in the future, if punishments are to be handed out, I’ll do it. Clear?”

“You’re no fun any more,” said Strange.

I walked over to the Blue Fairy, who was slowly and painfully rising to his feet. He looked briefly at the door, but Molly had already moved to put herself between him and it. He sighed briefly and tugged vaguely at his clothes to try to make himself look more presentable.

“Hello, Eddie,” he said calmly. “Molly. Didn’t know you were back.”

“Clearly,” I said. “Why were you trying to force Strange to give you a torc?”

He shrugged, and tried his best charming smile. “Reverting to nature, I fear; my old self coming out again. You know how it is…”

“I’m really not in the mood for civilised chitchat,” I said, and there must have been something in my voice because he stood a little straighten “Talk to me, Blue. Tell me the truth. Or I might just let Strange have you.”

“Your time away has not mellowed you,” said the Blue Fairy. “Very well; I’m afraid I wasn’t entirely honest with you when I arrived. I only came here to help myself, not you. I wanted a torc. I wanted a golden Drood torc … so I could take it to the elves. Present it to the Fae Court and bargain its secrets for admittance to the elven realm. I’m tired of trying to live as a human, in the human world. I’ve never been very good at it. And after my near-death experience, I thought a lot more about the other side of my heritage. And it seemed to me that they might be kinder than you. In the end, it’s all about family, Eddie. The need to belong. You should understand that.”

“Your very existence is an abomination to the elves,” said Molly. “Breeding outside the fae blood is their greatest taboo. They’d kill you on sight, torc or no torc.”

“He knows that,” I said. “But hope springs eternal in the deluded heart. No torc, Blue, not for you. Not now, not ever.”

He nodded slowly. “And you’re not going to kill me?”

“I should. But I’ve already lost one friend today.”

“I did try to warn you, Eddie. Even half elves always have an agenda.”

“That’s right, you did. So here’s your choice. You can go, or you can stay.”

“That’s it?” said the Blue Fairy after a moment.

“Yes,” I said. “I don’t have the energy to be mad at you. But if you stay, and fight alongside us in the war that’s coming, you could win acceptance. And a place here. Friends can be a kind of family.”

“You shame me with your generous spirit,” said the Blue Fairy. “I’ll stay, and I’ll fight. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

I nodded to Molly, and she stepped aside from the door to let him leave. She waited until the door was firmly closed behind him, and then looked at me.

“Are you crazy? You can’t trust him! He’s half elf.”

“I know,” I said. “That’s why I want to keep him close, where I can keep an eye on him.”

“You humans, with your subtleties,” said Strange. “You’re far more frightening than I could ever be.”

Next, Molly and I went to visit the isolation wards in the infirmary, in the north wing. Neither of us wanted to, but we had to see how the infected Loathly One drones were doing. Twenty-eight now, including Sebastian. Twenty-nine, including Molly. I was ready to go on my own, but Molly insisted on accompanying me, and I couldn’t say no. Not when she was fighting so hard to hang on to her humanity.

The family has always trained its own doctors and nurses, to staff its own hospital. Partly because we don’t want the world to know that Droods can be hurt, even with their marvellous torcs, and partly because only we are equipped to deal with the kind of problems faced by Droods, in and out of the field. Our doctors have to be able to diagnose and treat all kinds of physical, spiritual, and unnatural accidents, everything from werewolf bites to long-distance curses to post-possession stress disorder.

Our infirmary equipment is extremely up to date, and sometimes even a bit beyond, but the place itself is still the traditional pale, paste-coloured walls, snotty matrons, and the faint but pervasive smell of boiled vegetables. Molly and I strode quickly through the wards, nodding briskly to the staff on duty. A few looked like they would have liked to object to our presence, but we were come and gone before they could put their objections into words. Most of the ward beds were occupied, far more than normal. Some were clearly dying, despite all the doctors could do for them. A small, cold part of me was glad to see that Harry had been as bad a leader as me, but I pushed the thought aside.

The isolation wards are tucked away in their own private annex. Essentially, they’re a series of heavily armoured, pressurised holding tanks with steelglass walls, designed to contain the more problematic patients, like field agents who’ve brought back a disease from some other dimension, or the seriously possessed. The only entry point to each tank is a closely guarded air lock, whose combination code is changed daily, just in case. There are only six tanks; we’ve never needed more. Now they were packed from wall to wall with the recently rounded up drones.

Molly and I moved slowly down the row of isolation tanks, nodding to the armed guards at each air lock door. Some of the drones came forward to beat on the heavy steelglass with their fists. Their voices came clearly to us through the built-on speakers, saying they were innocent, uninfected, this was all wrong, there’d been a terrible mistake. They called me by name and pleaded for my help. Others shouted threats and curses. But most just sat or stood quietly, their faces expressionless, waiting to see what would happen next. Waiting for us to drop our guard, just for a moment.

In the very last tank, Sebastian Drood came forward to stare mockingly at us as we stopped before the air lock. As the most dangerous, he had a cell all to himself. He looked normal enough now, though there was something wrong with his face, as though he’d forgotten how to look human. Or perhaps he just didn’t feel the need to bother any more. He nodded politely to me, and smiled at Molly. “Dear Molly,” he said. “How does it feel, to be one of us?”

“I’ll never be one of you,” she said steadily. “Whatever it takes.”

“Ah,” he said, shrugging easily. “You say that now…but we all start out feeling that way. We don’t turn ourselves in, like we know we should, because we’re different. We’re strong, we can beat this. We’ll never give in; no, not us. But after a time…you won’t want to fight it. In fact, you’ll embrace it. Because being human is such a small thing to leave behind.” He turned abruptly to look at me. “You haven’t told anybody about her, have you, Eddie? I counted on that. And by the time you realise how hopeless it is, it’ll be too late. Is that why you’re here, Eddie? To kill me before I can tell anyone what I did to dear Molly? Am I to be destroyed while trying to escape?”

“Say what you like,” I said. “No one will believe you. A drone would say anything, tell any lie, to try and undermine the family.”

“Then why are you here?” said Sebastian. “Hoping for a cure, perhaps? Don’t waste your time and mine. There isn’t one. Once someone is one of us, they’re one of us forever.”

“You could do yourself some good,” I said. “Win yourself some better treatment by agreeing to answer a few questions.”

“And don’t waste any time on lies,” said Molly. “I’d know.”

“Yes,” said Sebastian. “You would. Very well, ask your questions.”

“Who was the original traitor?” I said. “Who worked to persuade the family to bring the Loathly Ones back, in 1941?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Sebastian said cheerfully, leaning on the steelglass with his arms folded. “And in case you were thinking of threatening me with truth spells or cattle prods or whatever we use for interrogation these days, yes, I know we’re a hive mind, but we’re kept strictly compartmentalised. Each drone only knows what it needs to know, when it needs to know it. Basic security. I might have known who the traitor was once, but I am currently cut off from that area of knowledge. Or indeed any area that might help you. Same with all the drones here.”

“There are ways of digging out the truth,” I said. “Old ways. Of course, they can be very destructive, to the body and the mind…”

“Dear me,” said Sebastian, smiling widely. “Threats of death and torture, to a helpless prisoner? What are the Droods coming to?”

“The safety of the world has to come first,” I said.

“Oh it does, it does. But can you save the world by damning yourselves? Can you fight monsters by becoming monsters?” Sebastian’s tone was openly mocking now, though his face was utterly expressionless, not even trying to seem human anymore. “The Hungry Gods are coming, Eddie, and there’s not a damned thing you can do to stop us. No one’s ever stopped us. Hello, Freddie.”

Molly and I looked around sharply as Freddie came uncertainly forward to join us. He nodded briefly to Molly and me, but his attention was fixed on Sebastian. I hardly recognised Freddie. All his usual glamour and flamboyance were gone, stripped away by events. He looked smaller, diminished, staring at Sebastian with an awful fascination.

“Hello, Seb,” he said finally. “Are you still Seb? Do you remember me? Do you remember being my friend?”

“Of course I remember you, Freddie. I haven’t changed, not really. I’m just being more honest about what I am. I remember our friendship, all the good times we had together; I just don’t care any more. Never did, really. All part of the job. You were just a means to an end, I’m afraid, a plausible way of gaining entry to the Hall. I knew it would go easier if I had you there to vouch for me. Eddie might have called all the rogues home, but he had good reason not to trust me.”

“Were you infected, even back then?” I said.

“I’m not going to tell you. Now hush, I’m talking to Freddie. I couldn’t believe it when you just went dashing off again, Freddie, right after I’d brought you here. I needed you, and your extreme personality, to distract people from me. That’s why I made such a point of calling you back here, to be one of Harry’s advisors. You never had a useful thought inside that pretty head of yours in your entire life. But I made a point of seducing you, to make sure you’d stay this time. You’re so larger than life that no one ever looked at me when you were around.”

“Did you ever really feel anything for me?” said Freddie, almost whispering.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Sebastian. “Perhaps. Sometimes. Sometimes…I’m more human than at other times. But it doesn’t matter. That’s all over now. There will be no room for real human emotions in the world that’s coming. You’ll love us because we’ll make you love us, to make the transition easier. But we won’t care. We are the Hungry Gods, the Many-Angled Ones. And you’re just food.”

Freddie turned away, as though Sebastian had hit him, and then he walked slowly away, not looking back.

“That was cruel,” I said to Sebastian.

“Have to be cruel to be kind,” Sebastian said briskly. “Now go away. I have nothing else to say to you. If there’s anything else you want to know about being a drone, ask Molly. Of course, you may not be able to trust her answers … as time goes on.”

He laughed at us. I took Molly by the arm and pulled her away, and we walked back through the isolation ward. All the drones came forward to the front of their tanks, and watched us intently through the steelglass, and all their expressions were exactly the same. They watched Molly, not me. She was staring straight ahead, lost in her own thoughts, and I don’t think she noticed. I hoped not.

“I didn’t know Sebastian and Freddie were gay,” she said finally.

“I don’t think Freddie’s ever been that discerning,” I said, glad of a chance to talk about something else. “He’d stick it in mud, if he thought it would wriggle. And Sebastian… would probably do whatever he thought was necessary. Freddie was always a serial romantic, couldn’t stand not to be in a relationship with someone. Anyone. Sebastian just used that, so he could use Freddie as cover. Poor bastard.”

“Sebastian knows about me,” said Molly. “Sooner or later, he will talk. When he thinks it’s to his advantage. And sooner or later, someone will listen, and believe. You know that.”

“That will take time,” I said. “And we only have three, four days till the Invaders come through. The family is going to be too busy to care about Sebastian’s ravings.”

We stopped as one of the armed guards approached us. Molly tensed and grabbed my arm. I did my best to look casual and unconcerned.

“We’ve had word from the man guarding Sebastian,” said the guard. “Apparently he has something else to say to you. Something important. But he’ll only say it to you two.”

“Probably just a trick,” said Molly. “Distract us with false information.”

I could tell how much she wanted out of the isolation ward, but I couldn’t just leave. Sebastian did know things; there was always the chance he could be manoeuvred into saying more than he intended. So we went back to Sebastian’s isolation cell, with Molly walking stiffly at my side. When we got there, he smiled sweetly at us, leaning at his ease on the heavy steelglass wall.

“I was infected long ago,” he said, without even bothering with any pleasantries this time. “You have no idea what it feels like, when the change really starts to kick in. It’s like being part of something bigger, something far more important and significant. I felt a real sense of purpose, of destiny, for the first time in my life. Being human is such a limited thing. Why should I regret leaving it behind, when I will become so much more? When the Hungry Gods come through, I shall be part of them, and glory in your destruction.”

“But you’re losing yourself,” I said. “Giving up everything you’ve made of yourself. That used to mean so much to you, Sebastian.”

“I never knew how small I was, until I was touched by the gods,” said Sebastian. “Why stay a caterpillar, when you can become a butterfly?”

“Butterflies don’t normally kill everything else in the field,” said Molly.

Sebastian smiled at her. “They would if they could. And so will you, Molly dear.”

“You said you had something important you wanted to tell us,” I said. “Spill it, or we’re leaving.”

“Oh yes… You’ve been very clever, Eddie, discovering and rounding up all the drones we infected during the battle on the Nazca Plain…But from now on, every time you come into contact with us, you’ll lose more people. No matter how many battles you win, we’ll take more of you, until there’s no one left. You don’t dare fight us, because if you do we’ll make you just like us.”

I smiled right back at him. “Well, you would say that, wouldn’t you?”

I took Molly back to our room. We both needed some down time. Time to think. I stretched out on the bed but, instead of joining me, Molly stood by the window, looking out over the grounds. The silence in the room seemed to grow stronger and heavier the longer it went on, but neither of us knew how to break it. I’d said I’d help her, said I’d save her, but I didn’t know what to do. I’d said I’d protect her from my own family if necessary, but we both knew the fate of all humanity had to come first. We both knew a lot of things, but neither of us wanted to be the first to say them.

“How do you feel?” I said at last, just to be saying something in that awful silence.

“I can feel the first changes,” she said, still looking out of the window. “Physical changes. My body feels…different. Uncertain. And there are strange thoughts in my head, that seem to come out of nowhere… My magics are keeping things under control, for now. I know so many spells, so many forbidden magics and secrets, but I never thought I’d need a weapon I could use against myself.”

“There must be someone who can help you,” I said. “All the places you’ve been, all the contacts you’ve made…”

“The price they’d ask would be worse than the affliction,” said Molly.

“Then, someone in the family,” I said. “We just need to stop or slow the changes till after the war. Till we can really go to work on it.”

“Who could we ask?” said Molly. “Who could we trust with a secret like this?”

“The Armourer,” I said. “Uncle Jack would understand. We had to kill his brother James, and he understood about that.”

“That was to save the family,” said Molly. “And I am becoming a real and present danger to the family. Who else is there?”

“I don’t know! How about the Blue Fairy? He owes me. Maybe he could fish for a cure. He found one for himself.”

“We can’t trust him. All elves have an agenda.”

“Well… maybe Giles could take you with him, back to his future,” I said desperately. “Who knows what kind of cures and medical technology they have then?”

“You heard the man,” Molly said sadly. “His is a strictly scientific future. His people probably wouldn’t even be able to recognise what was wrong with me. And anyway, we can’t unleash the Loathly Ones and the Hungry Gods on the future. They have to be stopped, here and now.”

I had to smile. “Am I hearing this right? The infamous Molly Metcalf, developing scruples and morality at this late stage?”

She turned around and managed a small smile for me. “Everyone has to grow up eventually. All it took for me was an other-dimensional parasite infecting my body and eating my soul.”

I sat up on the bed and looked at her thoughtfully. “Now you’re one of them… Are you part of their hive mind yet? Can you hear them? Can you listen in on the Loathly Ones’ communications?”

Molly frowned, concentrating. “There is something… on the edge of my thoughts. Far away, a background sound. But it’s just babble, a meaningless gabble of noise. Not human… alien. Perhaps I’ll come to understand it, as I become… more like them. Will my thoughts come to sound like that? So alien, so intrinsically other… as to be beyond human comprehension?” She looked at me intently. “We have to stop them, Eddie. While I’m still me. Maybe… if we drive them all back out of our reality, the infection will go with them.”

“Yes,” I said kindly. “Maybe.”

“I’m scared, Eddie. Scared of becoming less and less me, and becoming something that won’t even care what it’s lost. I won’t even care that I don’t love you anymore… If there is no cure, if there is no hope left, kill me, Eddie, while I still know who you are. If you love me, kill me.”

“Yes,” I said. “I can do that.”