Daemons Are Forever

CHAPTER EIGHT Family Matters

We came home in the Blackhawkes. Those wonderful, sleek, and silent planes. Nothing wrong with them. Completely untouched. But they seemed so terribly empty, carrying just the few of us home. With only eleven torced Droods left, we had to spread ourselves out across the planes, so we could fly undetected through foreign airspaces, above a world that didn’t even know what we’d saved it from. None of the other Droods would even look at me as we climbed aboard our separate planes. Molly sat beside me all the way back, holding my hand, talking softly to me, but I couldn’t tell you a single thing she said. All I could think of… was what we were carrying in the cargo holds of the planes. All the dead Droods.

The news went ahead of us. Bad news always does. When the Blackhawkes finally touched down on the landing field behind the Hall, it seemed like the whole family had come out to watch. And when I and the terribly few survivors of my first disastrous mission descended from the planes, we did so to utter silence. To ranks of shocked faces and condemning eyes. I could have fobbed them off, told them there’d be an official statement later. Could have walked right through them and gone inside. But I didn’t. I stood and waited with everyone else, as the bodies were unloaded from the cargo holds.

We hadn’t been able to recover them all. Most of the bodies on the plain were either crushed into pulp by the falling tower, or so messed up from the fighting we couldn’t tell who was who, or what was what. Some had been reduced to just bits and pieces. So we just brought back the heads. We spent hours under the hot sun, digging through the wreckage and sorting through the carnage, the blood and the offal, and the stench, but in the end we brought less than half of the family home. The watching crowd made soft, shocked noises as the first bodies appeared. They’d never seen so many dead Droods before. No one had. Such a tragedy, such a loss of life in one operation, was unprecedented. Some people cried out at the sight of familiar faces, broken and disfigured and smeared with dried blood. Some people made to rush forward, but the Sarjeant-at-Arms was there with his people, to keep order. Family dignity must be maintained at all times.

The family doctors and nurses soon ran out of stretchers, even though they were dropping the bodies off in the mortuary and returning as fast as they could. So when the stretchers ran out, they improvised with tables and trolleys and other flat surfaces. For the bits and parts of bodies, and the severed heads, the doctors loaded them into black plastic garbage bags, to be sorted out later. The crowd didn’t like that, but the decision had been made to get the bodies off the planes and out of sight as quickly as possible. It wasn’t my decision. I was too numb to think of anything except how badly I’d screwed up. No, someone in the Inner Circle had thought ahead, and made the decision for me. How very thoughtful of them. Though of course, this wasn’t to spare my feelings, but the family’s.

I stood in the shadow of my plane and made myself watch silently until every last body had been carried into the Hall. Brought home, at last. That was my duty, and my penance. Molly stood beside me the whole time, still holding my hand. I held onto her like a drowning man, clutching her hand so hard I must have hurt her, but she never made a sound. I never said a thing, not even when my family looked at me with hot teary eyes and cold judgemental faces. What could I say, except I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

As the last few stretchers and the last few plastic bags disappeared inside, Molly finally stirred and leaned in close to me. “Don’t you have any body bags?” she said quietly. “For disasters and emergencies like this?”

“There’s never been a disaster like this before,” I said. “We never needed body bags, because we never lost this many people.”

“We didn’t lose the battle,” said Molly. “We destroyed the Loathly Ones’ nest, and their tower. We stopped the Bad Thing from coming through. Hell, we saved the world, Eddie.”

“If this is a victory, I’d hate to see a defeat,” I said. “Whatever temporary success we achieved, we paid for with our dearest blood. Those people followed me into battle because they believed in me. They were the chosen ones, who’d earned their place through merit, and hard work. I promised them victory and glory, and a chance to be heroes. This…This was supposed to be a demonstration of Drood power. No one was supposed to get hurt. Now most of those brave souls are gone, and the family will seem more vulnerable than ever.”

“So…what are you going to do?” said Molly.

“I have no choice anymore. Every Drood must have a torc, and the armour that goes with it. Whether I think they can be trusted or not. The family must be protected. If need be, even from me and my stupid ideas.”

“Don’t!” Molly said sharply. “Don’t start doubting your own judgement, just because one battle went against you. You did everything right. There was no way you could have known about all those other demons, hidden inside the tower.”

She broke off as Harry strode over to confront me. He held his head high, striding like a soldier, his every move full of the arrogance of the utterly self-justified. He knew all the family was watching. He slammed to a halt right in front of me, struck a condemnatory pose, and raised his voice so everyone could hear.

“This is all your fault, Edwin. All of it. I told you your attack force wasn’t big enough. I told you we all needed torcs, if we were to defeat the Loathly Ones. But no, you wouldn’t listen. You knew best. You just had to prove yourself as leader. And now, because of you, because of your pride and arrogance, all those good men and women are dead. Sacrificed on the altar of your ambition!”

“Nice speech, Harry,” I said. “Been practicing it all the way home, have you? I had to go with the information I had. None of this could have been predicted. We’ve never faced anything like this before.”

“Just what I would have expected from you,” said Harry. “Excuses! Face facts, Eddie; you’re just not up to the job. You never were. Even as a field agent, you were deemed so second-rate you were never allowed outside London! If you had any real pride, if you really cared about what was best for the family, you’d step down and let someone more qualified take over.”

“Got someone in mind, have you, Harry?” I said. “Yourself, perhaps?”

“Typical of you, Eddie, to try and make this about personalities,” Harry said grandly. “I don’t want to lead this family; I just want you gone. The Matriarch knew all about you. Knew you weren’t to be trusted with anything that really mattered. That’s why she let you run away from home, because you wouldn’t be missed. We should have hunted you down like any other rogue.”

“I was never a rogue! I worked for the family!” I stepped forwards, my hands clenching into fists.

“Don’t,” Molly said quickly. “It’s what he wants.”

“Yes, listen to your better half,” said Harry, sneering openly now. “You showed your true colours when you shacked up with her. When you had the sheer nerve to bring the infamous Molly Metcalf into our home, the bitch in heat of the wild woods!”

I hit him hard, right in the mouth. He staggered backwards, but didn’t go down. The watching crowd made a series of shocked noises, but no one moved. They were all waiting to see what would happen next, and their eyes were very bright. Harry turned his face, so they could all see the blood on his mouth and chin, and then he armoured up. The silver armour swept over him in a moment, and he stood tall and proud before the family, like an avatar of vengeance. I’d done what he wanted. He’d goaded me into losing my temper, and striking him first. He’d had a long time to plan all this on the way back, to work out just how to manipulate me before the family. I knew all that, knew I was playing his game, and I didn’t care. I needed to hit someone, and Harry would do just fine. I armoured up, and we stepped forward to face each other, both of us reflected in the other’s armour.

“Come on,” said Harry. “Show me what you’ve got. Show me all the dirty tricks you used to murder my father.”

“Love to,” I said. I raised my hands, and long, silver cutting blades grew out of my fists.

“Stop this!” said the Armourer, forcing his way forward through the crowd. “Stop this right now, both of you! Sarjeant-at-Arms, do your duty, dammit!”

Then, and only then, the Sarjeant came forward to separate us. The Armourer was quickly there too, slamming a liver-spotted hand flat against my silver chest, and glaring fiercely into my featureless silver mask. The Sarjeant looked at Harry, and of course Harry immediately armoured down. Like a good little boy, a respectful member of the family. He’d played me, right from the start. He’d never expected to actually have to fight. He knew someone would step in to stop it. What mattered was that he’d made me look bad in front of the whole family. He flashed me a brief triumphant smile, and then strode off into the Hall, along with the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Probably to make his report to the Matriarch. No one actually applauded him, but there was a general murmur of support within the crowd.

I armoured down, and nodded shamefacedly to the Armourer. He growled something under his breath and shook his head.

“Get inside, boy. The situation’s beyond saving here.”

I looked around me at the watching family. It wasn’t that long ago they’d gathered together to cheer my name, as the family’s saviour. And now they looked at me like I was some kind of war criminal. It wasn’t just that I’d lost a battle. I’d disappointed them by not being their perfect hero after all. I took out the Merlin Glass, shook it out to full size, and stepped through into the Armoury. Molly and the Armourer hurried through after me, and I shut the Glass down again. The weight of the family’s disapproving eyes was gone, and we were alone in the Armoury.

“You know, Eddie,” said Molly. “It seems to me that you’re getting just a bit dependent on that mirror.”

“Nonsense,” the Armourer said briskly. “That’s why I gave him the Glass—to get him out of close scrapes. Devices are meant to be used. How about I make us a nice cup of tea? And I’m pretty sure there’s an unopened box of Jaffa Cakes around here somewhere.” He stopped abruptly and looked at me. “You know, you look like shit, boy. Are you hurt? Injured?”

“No,” I said. “All that slaughter and butchery, and I came through it all without a scratch. Of course I did; I had the family armour. The others didn’t, and the Loathly Ones tore them apart.”

“Never look back, boy,” the Armourer said gruffly. “Concentrate on what you’re going to do next. Doesn’t matter if you lose a battle, as long as you win the war. Take a look at the family record; we’ve known our fair share of defeats. Of course, you have to go back quite a way to find anything like this…But that’s because the family’s grown soft and complacent and cautious, down the years, leaving all the dirty work to the field agents. Only picking the small battles, the small victories we were sure we could win. That’s why the Loathly Ones have been able to stick around this long and build up their numbers. Never would have been allowed, not even a century ago. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, Eddie, and think! Did you learn anything useful from this first encounter? Anything you can use, the next time you go up against the bastards?”

“Maybe,” I said. I felt suddenly tired, and sat down on the nearest chair. Molly looked worried, and I gave her a reassuring smile. Though it couldn’t have been that reassuring, because she looked even more worried. I fished inside my jacket pocket and brought out the Kandarian stone amulet Molly had recovered from the wreckage of the tower. I handed the ugly thing over to the Armourer, who studied it closely for a while, and then sat down beside me and studied the thing even more closely under a powerful magnifying glass. Molly pulled up a chair and sat down beside me. I barely noticed. I was focussed on the amulet. I needed it to be something, something important, to justify what we’d been through to get it. The Armourer prodded and rubbed at the gray stone amulet with his broad heavy engineer’s fingers, muttering to himself all the while.

“Hmmm. So. Kandarian all right. In remarkably good condition, given that it’s almost certainly over three thousand years old, judging by the style of the markings. But then, most Kandarian artefacts are very…enduring. They were built to last, using processes we can only guess at now. Kandar…Vile place, by all accounts. Demon worshippers. Gave themselves up voluntarily to possession by Beings from Outside. Subjugated every other culture they came in contact with, and did terrible things to them. Just because they could. Slavery, torture, ritual sacrifice; slaughter and suffering were meat and drink to old Kandar. Finally they went to war with themselves, and their whole civilisation was wiped out in the course of one terrible, blood-soaked night. Not one trace of their cities remains today. Their culture and their people utterly extinct. Probably just as well. All we ever see now is the odd amulet or weapon, preserved long after they should have crumbled into dust by the energies trapped within. We only understand the language because so many spells and incantations were originally written in it.”

“What about this particular glyph?” I said, pointing at the amulet. “I translated it as Invaders.”

“Hmmm? Oh yes, quite right, Eddie. Good to see you paid attention during some of your classes, at least. Yes, Invaders. Quite definitely plural. And the surrounding glyphs suggest that this was a summoning, to bring these Invaders through into our world. I think we have to assume that the Presence you felt on the other side of the Nazca gateway was just one, of many. Which in turn suggests…”

“That there must be other nests,” I said. “More gateways built by the Loathly Ones, to bring through a whole invasion force of these Beings.”

“Oh shit,” said Molly. “It was hard enough taking one down. How many could there be?”

“Who knows?” said the Armourer. “Hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands? Nests set up in countries all across the world, and all of humanity under threat. A threat we would have known nothing about…if you hadn’t launched your attack on the Loathly Ones, Eddie.”

“This is major-league stuff,” said Molly. “The whole world under threat? What do we do?”

“We stop them,” I said. “That’s what this family does. Uncle Jack, do we need to unlock the Armageddon Codex again?”

“Certainly not,” the Armourer said firmly. “I opened the Codex for you once, and that was one time more than I ever expected to see the Codex opened in my lifetime. No, those superweapons are only supposed to be used as a last resort, when reality itself is under threat. And things aren’t that bad. Yet.”

“But if the world’s about to be invaded by Beings from Outside…” I said.

“No, Eddie. The family can deal with this. We have before. Read the records. I swear we don’t teach nearly enough family history anymore. The Codex weapons are for when everything else, including tears, swearing, and prayer, have failed us. Not just to salve your pride, after it’s taken a beating in the field.”

“You weren’t there,” Molly said sharply. “You didn’t see what we did. Sense what we sensed… It was bad, really bad. Whatever it was, trying to force its way into our reality, it was worse than anything I’ve ever encountered. I’ve dealt with demons and devils in my time, and forces from Above and Below our reality, but these Invaders… They scare the shit out of me. Remember, Eddie, when you said there were two kinds of enemy: demons and gods? Well, the Loathly Ones may be demons, but whatever they’re trying to summon most definitely aren’t.”

“The family can handle this,” the Armourer said firmly. “I have developed weapons here beyond your worst nightmares. You have no idea what the Droods are capable of, Molly, when they finally go to war. We’ve been drowsing too long, coasting on our past victories. About time we got stuck in again, and got our hands bloody. We were warriors once, and will be again.” The Armourer smiled, and his usual kindly, absent-minded manner just vanished, replaced by a cold and focused malice. I should never have forgotten that this man had once been a first-class field agent during the coldest part of the Cold War, almost as lauded as his famous brother James.

Licensed to kill, in hot blood or cold, so long as they got the job done.

The Armourer turned to Molly, and was immediately his old gruff self again. “Don’t you worry, my dear, all will be well. You’ll see. Now, Eddie, how did you get on with that new short-range teleport bracelet I gave you? Work okay? Any problems?”

“Ah,” I said. “Yes, well…Actually, in the heat of battle with so much going on … I sort of forgot I had it with me.”

The Armourer sighed heavily. “Lean forward, will you, Eddie.” I did so, and he smacked me hard around the back of the head.

“Hey! Dammit, Uncle Jack, that hurt!”

“Good. It might help you remember, next time. I give you these things to give you an edge in battle! To keep you alive! I expect you to use them. I expect you to…” A nearby comm unit began to bleep insistently, and the Armourer broke off to answer it. “What? I’m busy!”

The Sarjeant-at-Arms’s face appeared on the monitor screen. He nodded brusquely to the Armourer, and then stared right past him at Molly and me.

“I thought you might go to ground in the Armoury. I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Inner Circle, in the Sanctity. Right now. There are urgent matters to be discussed.”

“Oh yes?” I said. “And just when did you get the authority to summon the Circle together?”

“Be there,” he said. “Or we’ll start without you.”

And he closed down the screen before I could answer.

“If it’s not one thing,” said Molly, “it’s another. And I thought my family was bad.”

“Your family?” I said.

“Don’t ask.”

Molly and I left the Armoury and headed straight for the Sanctity. I could have transported us both there with Merlin’s Glass, but for once I was in no hurry. I wanted time to think, plan what I was going to say. The Armourer said he’d be along soon, and I really hoped Jacob would show his ghostly face this time. I just knew I was going to need all the support I could muster at this meeting. And then Molly suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and announced that I’d have to go on without her.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Really. But I really can’t stay inside this oppressive old pile any longer. I just can’t. I have to get out, into the open air, before I start to wither.”

“But…this is Inner Circle business, Molly. It’s important. I need you to be there, with me.”

“I can’t help that. I have to get out of here before I start screaming. You have no idea what this place does to me, Eddie. You can come and look for me in the grounds when you’ve finished. I need time to myself anyway, to recharge my powers, and rebuild all the energies I used up on the Nazca Plain. Right now, I don’t have a spark of magic left in me. And I can’t live like that.”

I grabbed her by both shoulders and made her look at me. “I need you with me this time, Molly. They’re going to crucify me in there. I can’t face them alone.”

“Yes, you can. You don’t need me nearly as much as you think you do. You’re a lot stronger than you believe, Eddie. Than you allow yourself to be. I’ll see you later.”

She pulled herself out of my grip and hurried off down the corridor, heading for the front entrance and the freedom of the grounds. I called after her, but she didn’t look back once. So I went on to the Sanctity alone, wondering what the hell I was going to say.

When I got there, somehow the Armourer had contrived to arrive ahead of me. He raised one wrist to show off a teleport bracelet and waggled it at me meaningfully. I deliberately ignored him and looked around me. Gathered together in the presence of the softly glowing Strange were Penny, the Sarjeant…and Harry. He folded his arms across his chest and gave me a smug smile. The Sarjeant stood beside Harry, being ostentatiously supportive. Penny looked at me thoughtfully. There was no sign of Jacob. Strange’s crimson glow didn’t feel nearly as comforting as usual. I gave everyone there my best hard stare.

“Well, well, this is a surprise. Harry Drood, present at what is supposed to be a private meeting of my Inner Circle. What are you doing here, Harry?”

“I was invited,” he said easily. His mouth was still swollen and bruised from where I’d hit him. He could have had that fixed easily, but right now it was more useful as it was. As visible proof of my temper and brutality. It certainly didn’t stop him smiling triumphantly at me.

“Harold has a right to be heard,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“I see,” I said. “And is that what all of you feel?”

“He was there with you, when it all went wrong,” said Penny. “We need an independent witness as to exactly what happened. You must see that, Eddie.”

“Oh, I see a lot of things,” I said. “I should have remembered that betrayal and backstabbing are just business as usual in this family.”

The Armourer stirred uneasily. “Don’t be like that, Eddie. You know I’m on your side. But we need the facts as to what happened. And we have to be seen to be impartial if our decisions are to be accepted by the family as a whole. It may be that Harry can tell us things about the battle that you can’t. We’re going to need all the information we can put together, if we’re going to take on more Loathly Ones in their nests. We’re not here to judge you…”

“Aren’t you?” I said. “No, perhaps not you, Uncle Jack. But they are. They’ve already made up their minds. I don’t have time for this, people. There are things I need to be doing. For the good of the family.”

“Don’t you dare walk out on us!” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“Oh, blow it out your ear, Cyril,” I said.

And I stalked out of the Sanctity without looking back, even when first the Armourer and then Penny called my name. I was so angry my hands had curled into fists again, clenched so tight they were actually painful. My heart was pounding like a triphammer, and I could feel the angry flush in my face. I had to walk out. I couldn’t let them goad me into saying the wrong thing, making the wrong decision. There was no point in staying; the hanging judges had already made their decision. And without Molly to back me up, and the Armourer dithering… I would have been outvoted or shouted down no matter what I said. By my own Inner Circle… I couldn’t believe they’d invited Harry without even checking with me first.

I strode through the corridors and connecting rooms of the Hall, fuming to myself and glaring at any member of the family who got in my way. Most had the sense to keep well back. None of them spoke to me, just watched silently as I passed. Which suited me. Just one snide comment and I would have knocked them down.

Still, mad as I was, a part of me stood back, shaking its head and saying This isn’t like you. You always believed in don’t get mad, get even. When the Matriarch denounced me as a rogue, and sentenced me to death, I didn’t lose my rag; I went straight into planning how to bring her down. But then, I’d known I was innocent; that I hadn’t done anything wrong. That kept me going, despite all the obstacles put in my path. This…was different. There wasn’t room in me for anything but anger, most of it aimed at myself.

Because I screwed up. I got my people killed. My family. And nothing else mattered. By the time I got to the front door, the anger had died down to a dull throb, and I was thinking more clearly. Or at least clearly enough that I was more concerned about Molly than myself. I hadn’t taken her seriously enough, when she said she couldn’t live in the Hall; that she needed to live among living things, in the wild. I knew she was having trouble adjusting, but I thought she’d get over it… now I had to wonder if she ever would. If she ever could. This was a woman used to living in her own private forest, after all. While I … had to stay here, in the Hall, or risk losing control of the family.

Martha had already told me to my face that she was only waiting for me to make a mess of things, so she could come sweeping back and restore the Matriarchy. And what then? The restoring of all the old ways? Gold armour instead of silver, paid for by the sacrifice of children? Back to the family running the world instead of protecting it? No. I couldn’t let that happen. My duty to the family outweighed my duty to myself. It always had. I couldn’t turn my back on my family, not even for Molly. It’s always the family ties that matter, whether we like it or not.

I could lose Molly. The only woman I ever loved.

I came to the front entrance, strode through the front door, and then stopped and looked down the long gravel path as an ambulance materialised suddenly out of thin air. This rather caught my attention, as nothing is supposed to be able to materialise in our grounds unless we give permission well in advance. Which mostly we don’t. The ambulance came roaring up the path to the Hall, and then skidded to a halt right in front of me, spraying my shins with flying gravel. The sign on the side of the ambulance said Dr. Syn’s Fly by Night Delivery Service. The cab door opened and the driver got out. A cheerful sort in the traditional starched white uniform. He strode over to me, thrust a clipboard and pen into my hands, and saluted briskly.

“Sign here, squire. One looney to go, and no I don’t answer questions. I just drop people off and leg it before they can turn nasty. Sign there, please, on the dotted line. You are acknowledging delivery of one William Dominic Drood, also known as Oddly John. And get a move on, squire; I’ve got this American gentleman and his giant rabbit to drop off yet.”

I signed Harry’s name where indicated, and handed back the clipboard. I’ve always been a cautious sort. The driver saluted me again, went around to the back of the ambulance, unlocked a very heavy padlock, and pulled open the doors with a hearty cry of, “Come on out you lovely honey, you’re home.” William Drood stepped out of the ambulance, blinking in the bright summer light, and the driver took him firmly by one arm and brought him over to me.

“Here you are, squire. One headbanger, as ordered. Hours of fun for the whole family. Try not to lose him; you wouldn’t believe the paperwork if I have to chase him down again. Have a nice day! Forgetting you already!”

One more salute and he was back in the cab again. The ambulance screeched off down the gravel path and disappeared in midscreech. The day seemed suddenly, blessedly, quiet.

“What an appalling cheerful person,” said William. “I really must remember to send him a note of thanks. Inside a letter bomb.”

“Welcome back, William,” I said. “Welcome home.”

He nodded vaguely and looked around him. He didn’t seem particularly happy to be back. He did look better than the last time I’d seen him, alone in his cell at the Happy Daze sanatorium. They’d dressed him up in a good suit before sending him home, though he looked distinctly ill at ease in it. In fact, he looked generally uneasy. His face seemed somehow in between expressions, and his eyes were as haunted as ever. As though he was still seeing strange worlds and alternate realities out of the corner of his eyes. And given who he was … I said his name again, and his gaze slowly returned to me. I put out my hand, and after a pause he shook it solemnly.

“Do you remember me?” I said.

“Of course I remember you, Edwin. I’m not completely gaga. You came to see me in … that place. You got a message to me, saying it was safe to come home again. So here I am. I do hope you’re right, Edwin.”

“It’s good to have you back, where you belong,” I said.

“Is it?” he said vaguely, looking at the Hall behind me as though he’d never seen it before. “It doesn’t feel like home. But then it didn’t, even before I left. I found something out, you see, and then nothing seemed the same anymore. I can’t even say I feel like William Dominic Drood, either. I think I was happier as Oddly John. Nobody ever expected anything of him. I think perhaps … I left William here, when I went away. Maybe now I’m back, he’ll come back too. If it’s safe. I saw something, you see, in the Sanctity…”

“It’s all right, William,” I said quickly. “I know what you saw. What you found out. Everyone knows now. The Heart is dead, destroyed, and all its evil with it. We have new armour now, from a new source. There’s nothing here to be afraid of anymore.”

He looked at me sadly. “That would be nice. But we’re Droods. So there’s always something to be afraid of. Comes with the territory. I’ve been afraid of so many things, for such a long time now.”

“Is there anyone particular in the family you want to see?” I said, carefully changing the subject. “Anyone you’ve missed?”

“No,” said William after a moment. “Never had any family of my own. And old friends … so long ago, it seems. I don’t think I want them to see me like this. Not…properly myself yet. Whoever that turns out to be.”

“I know what you need,” I said firmly. “You were the best librarian the family ever had; and I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you. We have rediscovered the old library, after all these years. We need someone like you to put the place in order.”

William looked at me sharply, his face intent and focused for the first time. “The old library? But that was destroyed by fire, centuries ago!”

“No,” I said, grinning. “Just hidden away, waiting to be found. And you’re not going to believe some of the treasures it contains. Come along.”

I took him back through the Hall, and he gawked around him like a tourist, as though he’d never seen any of it before. Perhaps he’d forgotten it all, in his efforts to forget what he’d seen in the Sanctity. He’d had to forget, to survive. He’d put himself in the asylum, hiding from the family and what he’d discovered about it. He pretended to be mad to get in, but as the years went by he had to pretend less and less. He’d been gone so long that none of the people we passed along the way recognised him, and he showed no interest in talking with any of them. I took him through to the library, and he brightened immediately. He walked back and forth among the stacks, smiling as he recognised this book or that, and tut-tuting at the state of the place. He was standing straighter now, his gaze was sharper, and he walked with more confidence. Back on his own ground, more of who he used to be was coming back to him.

Already he was looking and sounding more like the librarian I remembered as a child.

When I thought he was ready, I took him to the portrait of the old library hanging on the rear wall, opened it up with the right Words, and we stepped through the portrait and into the old library itself. The huge depository of ancient family lore and forgotten world history. William took a deep breath, staring at the miles and miles of shelves with eyes as wide and delighted as a child. Stacks and stacks of books, manuscripts, scrolls, and even a few stone tablets, stretching away into the distance for as far as the eye could see. William smiled suddenly, and it was like his whole face came alive at last. I smiled too, glad I’d finally done something right. The Hall might not feel like home to him, but the old library certainly did.

“To get you started,” I said casually, “you might like to do a little research for me. I need everything you can find on Kandarian culture, and in particular any old summoning rites concerning Beings called the Invaders. Take your time. End of the day would be fine.”

“I know, I know,” he said, in a typically snotty librarian’s voice. “Nothing changes. You want the impossible, and you want it to a schedule. Am I expected to do this all by myself, or do I have any staff?”

“You have a staff of one,” I said. “Namely, the current librarian. Rafe? Rafe, where are you?”

A head popped out of the stacks further down, a hand waved cheerfully, and a pleasant young chap with a bright, beaming face hurried over to join us. I liked Rafe. The previous librarian had resigned his post when I took over; not just a Zero Tolerance member but also one of the Matriarch’s cronies, he refused to serve under me. I was forced to promote his assistant to full librarian. He hadn’t done too badly. It helped that he loved his job, and practically went into ecstasies when he first saw the old library. He was currently trying to track down an index, so we could get some idea of just what we had on our hands.

“Hi!” he said to William, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “I’m Rafe. Short for Raphael, which I never use. I am not a turtle. You must be William. You’re a legend, in librarian circles. Which, admittedly, aren’t as big as they might be. But! Here you are, back again, just in time to help me make sense of all this mess. No one’s used this place in centuries, and it shows. I said I needed expert help, but you could have knocked me down with a feather when Edwin said he could get you! And here you are! Really looking forward to working with you!”

“Don’t worry,” I said to William. “He calms down a bit once he gets used to you. And the Ritalin in his tea helps.”

“Let’s get to work,” said William.

And he strode off into the stacks, not looking back at either of us. Rafe nodded quickly to me, grinned, and hurried off after his new mentor. I grinned and shook my head, as William sent Rafe running from stack to stack, searching out ancient volumes and sacred texts, shouting after him like a shepherd with his dog.

With any luck, putting the old library in order would help William put himself back in order too.

When I stepped back through the portal into the main library, Penny was waiting for me. I turned my back on her to shut down the portrait, and then walked right past her without speaking. A little childish, perhaps, but I really wasn’t in the mood to be messed with. Penny just strode along beside me, cool and collected as always.

“You’re not an easy man to track down, Eddie. If someone hadn’t happened to mention they saw William Drood in the corridors, I’d never have thought to look here. Has he really been in a madhouse all these years? Never mind; you were right about the tutors so hopefully you’ll be right about the rogues too. Will you please slow down, Eddie! We need to talk!”

“No we don’t,” I said, not slowing down.

“Yes we do! In your absence, the Inner Circle has voted Harry in as a full member. Everyone agreed. Even the Armourer, though that was probably only because Harry is James’s son…Anyway, the point is the Inner Circle then voted unanimously that you not be allowed to make any more decisions of a military nature without consulting the Inner Circle first. And that you should not implement any such decisions without the full support of the Circle. You do see what that means? Do slow down, Eddie, I’m getting a stitch in my side. Well? Have you nothing to say?”

“Trust me,” I said. “You really don’t want to hear what I feel like saying.”

“Eddie…”

“None of this matters,” I said flatly. “I put the Inner Circle together to advise me. Nothing more.”

“I see,” Penny said coldly. “So you’re the Patriarch now, is that it? You’re running the family all on your own, answerable to no one?”

“Change the subject,” I said, and she must have heard something in my voice, because she did.

“I’ve finally managed to make contact with the rogue known as the Mole. Thanks to some rather imaginative work by our communications staff, who turned out to be far too au fait with underground information systems for my liking…You did say you wanted the Mole brought back into the fold…”

“He could be very useful to us,” I said, just a little defiantly. “When he went rogue he went underground, literally, and put together an information network unmatched anywhere else in the world. He knows things, things no one else knows. And he’s in contact with all kinds of powerful groups and individuals who wouldn’t even dream of talking to us directly. We need the Mole, and his sources.”

“Well, unfortunately the Mole refuses to leave his hole,” said Penny. “Even though we did everything we could to reassure him of his safety here. He’s made it very clear he won’t leave his refuge for any reason. But you must have impressed him, because he has agreed to help us search out information on what the Loathly Ones are up to, and the possible locations of other nests. Right now he’s teleconferencing with some of our brightest technogeeks, and no doubt teaching them all kinds of unfortunate new tricks.”

I nodded and slowed my pace a little. Penny was starting to puff. “That’s really the best we could hope for, with the Mole,” I said. “I’ll talk to him later. Any other rogues surfaced yet?”

“We’ve put the word out,” said Penny. “But it’s up to them to contact us. And many of them have good reason to be … cautious. So; that’s all my news. I am off. Things to see, people to do…”

“Anyone in particular?” I said. There must have been something in my voice, because she looked at me sharply.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. I’m going to see Mr. Stab.”

“You really don’t want to talk to him,” I said. I stopped, and she stopped with me. I considered her thoughtfully. She had a fierce, defiant look, so I chose my words carefully. “You don’t know what he is, Penny. I’ve seen some of his victims, or what was left of them, cut open, gutted. I once saw a cache of his old victims, sitting together around a table, propped up and mummified, so he could visit his old kills and glory in them. Savour the memory of their horror, and their screams. He’s not human, Penny. Not anymore. He made himself over into something else entirely, back in 1888.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” said Penny. “You’ve never taken the time to talk with him, listen to him, like I have. There’s more to him than you think. He needs…help, someone who cares enough to help him change. Anyone can be redeemed, Eddie.”

I was still struggling for something to say when she turned on her heel and strode away. I could have gone after her, but I didn’t. It wouldn’t have done any good. Some people just won’t be told. They have to find out for themselves, often the hard way. And what man ever understood what a woman sees in another man? And just maybe… she was right. Maybe Mr. Stab could be saved. Molly believed in him. I … didn’t. This was Mr. Stab; murderer and ripper of women for over a century. A century of slaughter, of women who also probably thought they understood him, right up to the point where he drew his knife.

So I went off and found a private place, locked the door, and called on Merlin’s Glass to show me what Penny and Mr. Stab were up to.

You’re using the Glass too much, Molly said. Getting dependent on it. But I was just doing what I had to. For the family.

Penny and Mr. Stab went walking through the grounds, down by the lake. The sky was very blue, the trees were bowing slightly under the urging of the gusting wind, and pure white swans sailed majestically over the dead-still waters of the lake. Penny made encouraging noises to them, but none of them would come close while she had Mr. Stab with her. The two of them walked on together, smiling and talking like old friends.

“So,” Penny said, “Did you have a good time, killing all the Loathly Ones?”

“Not really,” said Mr. Stab. “They didn’t die like people do. There was no real suffering, no horror in their eyes, and such things are meat and drink to me.”

“Was the whole thing as big a disaster as Harry keeps saying?”

“No,” said Mr. Stab after a thoughtful pause. “We stopped the Loathly Ones from bringing their unholy master through from Outside. Destroyed their tower, killed most of them, and scattered the others. Edwin came up with the plan that made that possible. If he hadn’t, if that Being had come through, that would have been a disaster, and the whole world would have paid for it. Humanity itself might have been wiped out…even me. It was an interesting sensation to find myself face to face with something worse than I am.”

“Do you still feel the need to kill?” Penny said abruptly. “Or are you…satisfied, now?”

“I still feel the need,” said Mr. Stab. “I always do.” He looked at her bluntly. “Why do you seek me out, Penny? You know what I am. What I do to women. Do you want me to do it to you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why, Penny?”

“No one’s ever as bad as they’re painted,” she said after a while.

“I am.”

“Perhaps. I’ve heard all the stories. But I wanted to meet the man behind the stories. Something…draws me to you.” Penny looked into his face, meeting his cold gaze unflinchingly. “Everyone can be saved. Everyone can be brought back into the light. I’ve always believed that.”

“What if they don’t want to be saved?”

“If that were true,” said Penny, “you would have broken your word to Molly by now. You live here with us, surrounded by temptation, but you do nothing. Molly said you were a good friend to her.”

“Molly believes…what she wants to believe,” said Mr. Stab.

“So do I,” said Penny. “Enough talk of dark and unpleasant things! Let me take your mind off such things, for a while.”

Mr. Stab nodded slowly. “Yes. You might be able to, at that.”

“I thought a picnic,” Penny said cheerfully. “I’ve got a hamper all set out, in that little grove over there. Shall we?”

“Why not?” said Mr. Stab. “It’s been a long time since I did anything so … civilised.”

“We need to get to know each other better,” said Penny. “How long has it been, since you could talk freely to anyone? How long since anyone would just sit and listen to you?”

“A long time,” said Mr. Stab. “I have been alone … a very long time.”

“I can’t keep calling you Mr. Stab,” said Penny. “Don’t you have a first name?”

He smiled. “Call me Jack.”

“Oh you,” said Penny.

And they walked on together, arm in arm.

I put the Merlin Glass away and headed for the front entrance at speed. I didn’t want Penny alone with Mr. Stab, far away from help. I didn’t think he’d dare hurt a Drood right in the shadow of Drood Hall, but… I hurried through the hallways and connecting rooms, and all the way my family drew back and gave me plenty of room. Some glared, some muttered, but none of them had anything to say to me. Just as well. I had nothing to say to them. When I finally got to the front entrance, Molly was there waiting for me, along with one familiar face and one strange one. She had them both in vicious ear holds, putting on just enough pressure to keep them both quiet and grimacing at her sides.

“Look what I found!” Molly said cheerfully. “Sneaking around in the grounds…”

“We were not sneaking!” protested the familiar face, with as much dignity as could be managed when someone is twisting your ear into a square knot. “We were just…taking our time about making our presence known.”

“Hello, Sebastian,” I said. “Been a while, hasn’t it, since you betrayed me to Manifest Destiny, and then tried to kill me. Who’s your wriggling friend?”

“Hold still!” snapped Molly. “Or I’ll rip them right off and make you eat them.”

“It’s all right, Molly,” I said soothingly. “You can let go now. Even a notorious thief and con man like Sebastian Drood has better sense than to start any trouble at Drood Hall. Right, Sebastian?”

“Of course, of course! Leave off, woman, before my ear is permanently malformed! I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Damn right you will,” growled Molly.

She let go, reluctantly, and Sebastian and his companion straightened up and felt gingerly at their reddened ears. Sebastian’s usual air of sophistication was in tatters, but he still looked very prosperous in his expertly cut suit, and in really good shape for a man in his sixties. Even if his thinning hair were obviously dyed.

“I am not just any old thief,” he said haughtily. “I am a gentleman burglar. I steal beautiful objects from people who don’t appreciate them, and pass them on to people who can. For a percentage. I only steal the very best, from the very best. I have standards.”

“How did you get into the grounds unnoticed?” I said. “We’ve completely reworked the Hall’s security systems since I came back. Alarms should have gone off all over the place the moment you even thought about breaking in.”

Sebastian gave me his best supercilious smile. “I am a professional burglar, old thing, and an expert in my craft. And I … called in a few old favours. You know how it is.”

“Not even remotely,” I said. “Enlighten me.”

“Do you tell me all your secrets? Suffice it to say it was a one-time deal, and highly unlikely to be repeated. And as to why I chose the less obvious way in, let’s just say I wasn’t entirely sure of my welcome. Given our past history. Your message to the rogues did say All sins forgiven, but I’m afraid I’ve grown terribly cynical in my time away from the family.”

“You have so many sins to be forgiven,” I said. “Including those against me and Molly. But don’t sweat it, Seb, just because you betrayed me to my enemies. We take that kind of thing for granted in the family, these days. But you seemed to be doing so well, out in the world…Why leave your little lap of luxury in Knightsbridge, after all these years? And don’t even mention the word duty; I know you, Seb.”

“I want my torc back,” Sebastian said flatly. “I’ve made too many enemies in my time to survive long without one.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “But if just one precious heirloom goes missing in the Hall while you’re here, I’ll know it was you. And I will have Molly turn you into something even more slimy than you already are.”

“Something truly viscous and oozy, with exposed eyeballs and testicles,” Molly said gleefully. “I’ve been practicing.”

“And they say you can’t come home again,” said Sebastian. “This is exactly how I remember the family: coldly judgmental and extremely threatening. Worry not, Edwin, I’m not here to make waves. I just want my torc. Even if I have to, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, earn the damn thing.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said. “You’ll fit in nicely.”

“I understand you’re looking for tutors,” said Sebastian. “There are any number of useful tricks I could teach to the…more open-minded young Droods. Subjects and skills they probably never even dreamed of.”

“I should hope not,” I said. “Or they’d have been kicked out, just like you.”

Sebastian sniffed, hurt. “There isn’t an ounce of charity in you, is there, Edwin?”

“Not a bit,” I said. “I had it all removed surgically. Now; who’s your friend?”

“Oh, I’m Freddie Drood, darling!” said the young man on Molly’s other side. “Fabulous to meet you!”

Freddie was tall and dark and handsome, with coffee-coloured skin and close-cropped jet-black hair. He wore a snakeskin jacket over a silk shirt open to the navel, and Levi’s so tight he must have shrunk them on in the bath. He had mascaraed eyes, a bushy moustache, and a big, toothy grin.

“Freddie,” I said. “Can’t say the name rings a bell.”

“How unkind,” said Freddie, pouting. “I was absolutely notorious in my time, darling. But of late I found myself just a teensy bit financially embarrassed, so I teamed up with Sebbie here, as partners in crime. I got him into all the best parties, so he could case the joints, and then we came back later and robbed the poor dears blind.”

“And just why did the family find it necessary to kick you out?” I said.

“Oh, I’ve always been big and flamboyant and larger than life, honey,” said Freddie, throwing back his head and striking a dramatic pose. “I started out as a field agent, but once away from dreary family restraints, I just blossomed! I was practically a celeb, darling, and positively in demand for every little bash where the famous and infamous gathered. The family approved at first, because I picked up the most wonderful gossip about our putative lords and masters…But I just couldn’t bring myself to stay under the radar. I was getting noticed…so the family told me to come back home. I refused, and they cut me off without a penny. The heartless swine.

“Fortunately, I was already living with the first of a long line of sugar daddies, all of them quite prepared to keep me in the style to which I was determined to become accustomed, so for a long time it was just party, party, and let the good times roll! Until I made the mistake of trying to set up a little private income of my own, through a little discreet blackmail. The very first person I chose committed suicide, the poor dear, and left a very revealing letter behind. After that I was persona non grata in all the better circles, for ever such a long time. Which is how I ended up with Sebbie. I had a very large lifestyle to fund, darling: dancing and drinking and debauchery, all night long!”

“And what are you doing back here?” I said, when Freddie finally paused for breath.

“I really do need a torc, sweetie. There are just too many diseases out there these days. Don’t worry, I’m quite prepared to sing for my supper. A girl in my position does tend to hear things. I’m sure I can tell you all sorts of things you need to hear…”

“I’m sure you can,” I said. “All right; you both appall me beyond my ability to describe, but unfortunately, right now, you’re probably just what the family needs. Go on in and report to the Sarjeant-at-Arms, and find a way to make yourselves useful. Seb, I think we’ll keep you nice and busy with a series of lectures and tutorials. Like how to use a torc in illegal ways, for breaking and entering, and so on. Freddie, try to keep busy, and out of trouble.”

“Honey, I’ve never been that busy in my life,” said Freddie.

And with a wave and a wink, he sauntered off into the Hall, with Sebastian trailing dolefully after him.

“Was that wise?” said Molly. “One’ll get you ten they only came back to loot the Hall.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Hopefully the Sarjeant will keep them under his thumbs. It’s either that, or kill them. And we need the rogues to come home. We need their different viewpoints, knowledge, skills.”

“Even if it means welcoming back pond scum like Sebastian?”

“Everyone deserves a chance,” I said. “I need to believe…that anyone can be redeemed.”

At which point Freddie returned, without Sebastian. “I’ve just had a thought!” he said brightly. “As I understand it, the family has put out a call for all rogues to come home, but hardly any are taking up the offer. Am I right? Thought so, darlings. Quite understandable, I’m afraid. Not everyone trusts the new regime to be terribly different from the old one. But… I have been known to bump into all sorts of rogues in my time, in all sorts of interesting places. Some long forgotten, or even thought dead, by the family. How would it be … if I were to go out into the world, track these elusive fellows down, and use all my many charms to persuade them to come home? For a generous bounty on each head, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” I said. “Sounds good to me. Do well, and I guarantee you a new torc. Didn’t take you long to get tired of the old homestead, did it?”

“Honey, I’d forgotten just how oppressive the old pile is,” said Freddie. “I could never live here. It would just crush my spirit. I would wither, darlings, positively wither! I must have my freedom.”

“You’ve got it,” I said. “You can leave right now.”

“And the extent of the bounty?”

“Depends on who you can deliver,” I said. “You can find your own way out, can’t you?”

“I always do, honey,” said Freddie.

He sauntered off down the long gravel pathway, swaying his hips just that little bit more because he knew we were watching. Somehow I just knew Freddie was always happiest in front of an audience.

“Your family never ceases to amaze me,” said Molly.

“They can surprise me too, sometimes,” I said. “My own Inner Circle has turned against me, because you weren’t there to back me up.”

“Eddie, that’s not fair,” said Molly. “If you can’t control them, you certainly can’t expect me to.”

“I don’t want to control them,” I said. “Not as such. I just want the stupid bastards to understand that I’m right. I need them to believe that my way is the right way. Or everything I’ve done, to save the family’s soul, could be undone.”

“You don’t need me for that,” said Molly.

“Yes I do! I do need you, Molly. I’m…stronger, more confident, when you’re with me.”

Molly smiled and moved in close, putting her hands on my chest. “That’s very sweet, Eddie. But I can’t always be with you. I just can’t. Not here. Not in this place. I told you; I’m never going to fit in here. I belong in the wild. I’m beginning to think I made a mistake in coming here with you. I love you, Eddie, you know I do. You matter to me in a way no one else ever has. I want you, Eddie, but I don’t want all this.”

She looked at me for a long moment, her dark eyes deep and unfathomable. “You’re starting a war, Eddie. A war I’m not sure you can win. The Loathly Ones were bad enough, but that thing they were summoning? Major-league bad. I signed on to fight demons, not gods. You need to start with something smaller, more manageable. Like Manifest Destiny. Truman’s still out there, putting his nasty little organisation back together again. And this time he won’t have the Zero Tolerance people holding his reins and pulling him back. Start with him, Eddie. With a fight you can win.”

“I’ll consider it,” I said. “Now, please, come back inside. Be with me, if only for a while. I’m tired. I need to crash. Get some sleep, forget the world and its problems for a while. It’s going to be a hard day tomorrow.”

“Of course, sweetie. Come and lie down with me, and I’ll take all your cares away. And you can help me forget mine. But what’s so special about tomorrow? What’s happening then?”

“The funerals,” I said.

Next morning came round all too quickly, and the insistent clamour of a bullying alarm clock made sure Molly and I were up bright and early to greet the coining day. And all the pressures and problems it promised. Molly and I went down to breakfast in one of the big dining rooms. Rows and rows of tables covered with bright white cloths, a long sideboard with every kind of breakfast you could imagine, and huge windows looking out over the lawns. There were braised kidneys, and kedgeree, and even porridge, though you couldn’t get me to eat that stuff no matter how much salt you put on it.

I’m not really a morning person, never have been, and I’m not all that keen on breakfast, but this day of all days I needed to be seen, so that no one could accuse me of avoiding the funerals. My absence would have been interpreted as an admission of guilt.

So I nursed a cup of strong black coffee while Molly tucked into a full fry up, complete with liver and mushrooms and more scrambled eggs than was good for her arteries. I’d never realised what a noisy eater she was, unless it was the terribly early hour. Everything sounds louder and more oppressive, first thing in the morning. There were a lot of other people around us, breakfasting and talking animatedly. None of them had anything to say to me, or Molly.

“Why are we up this early?” said Molly, attacking her mound of steaming scrambled eggs with quite appalling vigour.

“Funerals here are always held early in the morning,” I said. “It’s tradition. Probably for the best, this time; we’ve got a lot to get through. All the people I lost…”

“Don’t start,” Molly said sternly, threatening me with her fork. “None of what happened was your fault. If it was, I’d tell you. Loudly and violently and where everyone could hear me.”

I considered that. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“So, why are we holding the funerals so quickly? It’s not like they’re going to go off.”

“We don’t hang around, where funerals are concerned,” I said. “The family has too many enemies who might try to use our own dead against us.”

Molly chewed on a crispy bit of bacon, thoughtfully and thoroughly. “What kind of funeral does your family put on?”

“Oh, it’ll be a big ceremony,” I said. “My family has a ceremony established for practically everything. We’re very big on tradition. Helps discourage the rank and file from thinking for themselves. And I’ll have to make a speech, at the end. It’s expected of me.”

“What are you going to say?” said Molly.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose I could throw myself on the family’s mercy…”

Molly shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”

After breakfast, I led Molly to the back of the main house and out through the huge French windows onto the long sloping lawns where the funeral was to be held. The coffins gleamed brightly in the early morning sun, rows and rows of them stretching away before us. All closed, of course, to hide the fact that most contained only parts of bodies, and some contained nothing at all. Two hundred and forty wooden boxes. I didn’t know we kept that many in stock. Or perhaps someone just used a duplication spell. Two hundred and forty fewer Droods, to stand between the world and all the evils in it.

All family loss matters. But my family matters more than most.

The whole family, or so it seemed, turned out for the funeral. They came from all over the Hall, standing in groups according to their calling or status. No one wanted to stand with Molly and me, not even the other members of my Inner Circle. Ranks and ranks of the living lined up before the rows of coffins, while hidden speakers pumped out consoling music. The Armourer was off to one side, fussing over a remote control panel. Keeping an eye on the energy field that protected us from enemy attacks and spying eyes.

The music finally ended with a stirring rendition of “I Vow to Thee My Country,” which we’ve pretty much adopted as our anthem, and then a Drood vicar came out to start the service. He was a Christian; nothing more. The family has never bothered with all the various schisms that have split the Protestant Church down the years. We’d probably still be Catholic if the pope hadn’t ordered us to assassinate Henry VIII, when he split England away from Rome. The pope really should have known better. No one orders Droods around.

The vicar took us quickly through a stripped-down service, not even pausing for hymns or homilies, and then he stepped back and nodded to the Armourer. Uncle Jack hit a large red button with the flat of his hand, and just like that, two hundred and forty coffins disappeared, gone, leaving only faint indentations in the grassy lawn. Molly looked at me inquiringly.

“Transported directly into the heart of the sun,” I said. “Instant cremation. Ashes to ashes, and less than ashes. Nothing left behind to be used against the family. I told you we all get cremated; we’re just a bit more dramatic about it than most. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make my speech. Good thing I don’t suffer from stage fright; looks like everyone’s here, except the Matriarch.” I frowned. “She should be here. She shouldn’t let private arguments get in the way of family duty. Ah well, wish me luck.”

“Anyone even looks like heckling, I’ll set fire to their underwear,” said Molly.

“How very fitting,” I said.

“I thought so,” said Molly.

I walked unhurriedly forward to where the coffins had been, and then turned and faced my family. So many Droods, all in one place, watching me with uncertain faces, waiting for me to say the words that would make everything all right again. If I could have, I would…But when in doubt, tell the truth. It may not be comforting, or reassuring, but at least then everyone knows where they are. So I told them what we found, down on the Nazca Plain. The Loathly Ones working through their drones, the insane structure they built, and the Awful Being they tried to summon through into our reality. Told them how my force fought bravely and well, against unexpected, overwhelming numbers, and how we triumphed in the end. Those of us who remained.

“This is exactly the kind of threat the family was created to oppose,” I said, my voice ringing out loud and clear on the still morning air. “To be shamans, protecting the human tribe against threats from Outside. Those who came with me, and fell so valiantly, gave their lives to save humanity. Be proud of them. And yes, we paid a high price for our victory. Which is why we must never be caught off guard again. My Inner Circle and I have decided that every member of the family will be presented with a new torc, and as soon as possible. We must all be strong again. There is a war coming, not just against the Loathly Ones, and the Invaders from Outside, but against all our enemies who would seek to divide and destroy us.”

I had hoped I’d get a cheer, or at least a round of applause, when I announced new torcs for everyone, but no one made a sound. And when I finished, they all just stood there, looking at me blankly, as though to say, Is that it? Is that all? And then Harry strode forward out of the crowd, and every eye turned to him. I should have known. Should have known he’d seize the occasion to stick another knife in my back.

I looked quickly for Molly and shook my head. I couldn’t afford for anyone to think I was afraid to let Harry speak.

“There is a war coming,” Harry said, his voice loud and confident. “The nests of the Loathly Ones must be destroyed, and the Invaders prevented from entering our reality. But we can’t just wait around for new torcs…coming as soon as possible. We need them now. Right now! What’s to prevent our many enemies from launching an attack, while we’re perceived to be weak and vulnerable after such a major defeat? What’s to stop the Loathly Ones from hitting us right now, in retaliation for the destruction of their towers, or to prevent us from attacking other nests? We need our torcs. The family must be protected. It must be made strong again. And for that…we need a new leader.”

He stared right at me, his face cold and unyielding. “I demand that Edwin step down! His half-baked ideas and incompetent leadership have cost us too much already. He’s a threat to us all. He has proved himself a failure in the field, got most of his people killed, and doesn’t even have the decency to apologise or admit his fault. It’s time to undo all the damage he’s done to the family, and return us to traditional control. We must restore the Matriarch to power. She alone has the experience to wage a war successfully.”

“No,” I said flatly, and my voice stopped him dead. All faces turned back to me again. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice. “Are your memories really so short? The Matriarch betrayed this family. Have you forgotten the price she made you pay for your old armour? The deaths of your twin brothers and sisters? All those babies, sacrificed to the Heart? She sanctioned that practice, and kept it a secret from you, because she knew you’d never go along with it once you knew the truth. Will you sell your souls again, so easily? The torcs I will provide you, from Strange, will have no price tag attached. The armour I will give you, you can wear proudly.”

I looked at Harry. “I can guarantee the family new torcs. Can the Matriarch do that? Can you, Harry?”

“So, Strange belongs to you, does he?” said Harry.

“Strange belongs to no one,” I said. “But he knows an arsehole when he sees one.” I looked back at the sea of watching faces. “It’s up to you. Make your own decision. Don’t be told what to do, by the Matriarch, or Harry, or me. I can’t lead you into a war against your will, and I wouldn’t if I could. I’m not your Patriarch. I’m just a Drood, determined to do what’s right. To be what I was raised to be. To fight the good fight against all the enemies of humanity.”

There was a long pause, during which I could almost hear my heart hammering in my chest. I had nothing else to say. And then, in ones and twos, and then in groups, my family applauded, accepting my words. They bowed their heads to me and then turned away and dispersed, heading back into the Hall. Not an overwhelming response, but it would do. For now. I looked around, but Harry had already disappeared. Running off to report back to the Matriarch, no doubt. I did see the Armourer, taking time out for a quiet cigarillo, and he gave me a cheerful thumbs-up. I nodded, and went back to join Molly.

“Fight the good fight?” she said. “As opposed to the bad fight, I suppose. What the hell’s a bad fight?”

“The kind where you lose two hundred and forty good men and women,” I said. “I can’t do this alone, Molly. I need help. Professional help. People who know how to fight a war.”

“The clock’s ticking,” said Molly. “Where are you going to find these people in time?”

“Precisely,” I said.