Live and let Drood

CHAPTER SEVEN

Every part of society has its own clubs to retreat to, private places where we can escape from the trials and stresses of the everyday world. We all like to know there s somewhere we can go when it all gets a bit much; our very own private watering holes. Very private people have very private clubs, and Very Important People have Very Private Clubs. And then there are the clubs that no one talks about. If they know what s good for them. Membership strictly by invitation only. For people so important, so significant and so wealthy that no one in the everyday world has ever heard of them. Clubs for people who mix only with their own kind.

Which is how I came to be strolling down some very well-known streets in the better part of London, following the map the Regent of Shadows had given me. And a simple set of directions that should take me straight to the only kind of club that would accept the likes of Crow Lee as a member: the Establishment Club. Where the underworld can meet the elite, to sneer at everyone else. I kept Molly close beside me, where I could keep an eye on her, because I didn t entirely trust the larcenous look in her eyes. We got all kinds of looks from the well-dressed people we passed, because neither of us seemed like the kind of people who had any business being in an area like this, but, of course, no one actually said anything. Because we re British, after all, and we don t like to make a fuss. There were security cameras everywhere; let the proper authorities do what needed doing. If anything needed doing. Some of the cameras rotated slowly to watch us as we passed. I pointed them out to Molly.

They can t see us, I said just a bit smugly. As long as I m wearing my torc, there isn t a surveillance system in the world that can see me. Or you, as long as you re with me. What it means to be a Drood we walk through the world unseen, so we can do necessary appalling things and get away with it every time.

Don t get cocky, said Molly. I was learning how to dodge security systems while you were still planning how to run away from home. I really don t like this area, Eddie. It stinks of money and privilege and entitlement all the things I ve spent a lifetime fighting. I feel like smashing a whole bunch of things, just on general principles.

Never knew you when you didn t, I said.

And that was when the security cameras all started exploding. The one right in front of us went first, blowing apart in a soft puff of black smoke and a short shower of plastic and glass splinters. Then all the others went up, one after the other, ahead and behind us. The quiet of the late evening was suddenly full of the soft sounds of small fires and frying electrical circuitry. Everyone else on the street jumped and looked about them, startled, and then took to their heels. In a polite and dignified way, of course. Soon enough they were all gone from a street where they didn t feel safe anymore because no one was watching over them. I stopped and looked sternly at Molly, who shook her head demurely.

It s not me, Eddie for once. I m afraid it s you. I can See swirls of energy coming off you, striking out at the cameras from your torc.

It s the rogue armour, I said, one hand rising automatically to the golden torc at my throat and then falling back without touching it. It s overreacting. I concentrated, imposing my will on the torc with blunt brute force, and the explosions stopped. I felt something stir inside the torc and then grow still again.

You assured me you had the rogue armour under complete control, Molly said carefully.

I have. Mostly. You have to remember: It s not just armour. Moxton s Mistake is a living thing. I think it just likes to remind me it s still there occasionally.

Can we get moving? said Molly. I m starting to feel just a bit conspicuous, standing alone in the middle of the street. Your torc can t hide us from everyone.

Of course, I said. Moving right along.

You do know where we re going?

Do you want to read the map?

We moved on down the well-lit but now completely deserted street. Evening was fast fading into night. It had been a long hard day, and it wasn t nearly over yet. I did my best to make sense of the hand-drawn map the Regent had scrawled for me, and carefully checked the numbers on the doors we passed. Not far now. Not long at all until I could finally get my hands on Crow Lee and force some straight answers out of him.

What did you make of the Regent? Molly said suddenly. Your long-lost and suddenly found grandfather.

Seemed straightforward enough, I said. Given the game he s playing. Decent enough stick Played his cards a bit close to his chest, but then, you ve got to expect that from someone who s still technically a rogue Drood. What did you make of Patrick?

Something not quite right there, Molly said immediately, frowning. He didn t come across to me as any kind of Armourer. Not that I ve known many.

He knew his stuff, I said. And the Regent did say that Patrick had been one of his Special Agents. Working out in the field, like us, getting his hands dirty But even so, you re right; there was something off about him. He reminds me of someone, though I m damned if I can think who.

Someone you ve met before? said Molly.

In the field?

I shook my head uncertainly. Are you happy? That s what he asked me. What kind of a question is that to someone you ve only just met?

You gave a good answer, though, said Molly, slipping her arm through mine and pressing the side of her body up against mine. You earned yourself some major boyfriend brownie points there.

Can I cash them in later? I said. Let us not forget, the Department of the Uncanny is part of the Establishment, and therefore no one in it can be fully trusted. On principle.

Well, quite, said Molly. But let us concentrate on taking down Crow Lee and getting your family back, and worry about everything else afterwards.

Good answer, I said. Sufficient unto the day are the scumbags thereof.

We ended up strolling along beside a long tenement building, big and grand in the old Regency style, punctuated with a whole lot of barred and shuttered windows and really big doors bearing the gleaming brass nameplates of the very old, very long established private-members clubs they represented. I counted them off, comparing them to the Regent s map, until finally I stopped before one particular door that didn t look any different from all the others I d already passed. In fact, it looked so ordinary I got Molly to check the map to make sure I d got the numbers right. She snatched the thing out of my hand, glared at me, sniffed loudly, glanced briefly at the map and then snapped her fingers and set it on fire. It blazed up quickly, and Molly shook her fingers, letting the dark ashes fall to the street.

We don t want to leave any evidence behind, do we? she said. Nothing that might lead back to Uncanny, and the Regent.

Show-off, I said.

A small brass plate set above the door gave the name THE ESTABLISHMENT CLUB in blunt and blocky letters. A club so well established it didn t need to advertise. Either you knew how to find it or you didn t belong there, anyway. The door itself was bland and uninteresting, with no letter box or door handle. The giveaway was that it stood half-open, the way in thoroughly blocked by a large and formidable doorman, resplendent in an old-fashioned bright scarlet frock-coat uniform, complete with fancy waistcoat, knee britches and well-polished boots. Plus a gleaming tall hat any stage magician would have been proud of. For all his finery, he was large and solid and openly menacing, and gave the impression he should really have been standing outside some downtown nightclub, snarling, No trainers! and You re not on the list! He had a square, brutal face and looked like bullets would just bounce off him. Because they d be afraid of him. He stood at attention and looked right through Molly and me as though we weren t there.

So, said Molly, looking right past the doorman as though he weren t there, what kind of a place is the Establishment Club, Eddie? What can we expect once we get inside? Any kinky stuff?

Don t ask me, I said. I ve never been in there.

Molly turned and gave me a hard look. You re always saying that London is your territory! That you were Drood field agent for the whole of London!

Not quite all of it, I admitted reluctantly.

This kind of place, and this kind of area, was always more Matthew s territory than mine. It s not like I was actually banned from circles like these, but I never got to see the inside of any of these clubs. Matthew didn t think I could be trusted to behave properly in front of those who like to think of themselves as our betters, and he was probably right. He knew how to talk to these people, to lay down Drood authority without ruffling too many feathers. Because sometimes, when you re in a hurry, you have to give some to get some. I am a great believer in diplomacy; right up to the point where someone pisses me off, and then it s time to dispense beatings and shout at people. Matthew knew how to get these people to do what we wanted and make them think it was all their idea in the first place. But then, Matthew could charm the birds down out of the trees, when he could be bothered. He was always so much better at being a secret agent than I ever was.

I stopped there, surprised by a sudden rush of memories of the man that weren t all bad. I do miss him sometimes. He was harsh and arrogant and a royal pain in the arse but he did teach me an awful lot about how to be a field agent when I first came to London.

He was a creep, Molly said succinctly, and I had to smile.

Well, yes. I don t think anyone would argue with that, I said. But he was a very professional creep. You have to make allowances. He was family.

If I hear that bullshit one more time, Molly said ominously, there is going to be a very unfortunate incident. Right here and now. Shit is shit, whether you re related to it or not. Take my sisters

I d rather not, I said.

It was Molly s turn to smile. Lots of people say that. Wait a minute! I ve just had an idea!

Oh no, I said. That s never good.

When all this is over, why don t I join up with you, and we can be field agents in London together? We could patrol the streets, side by side. That should throw a scare into all the right people. And according to all the women s magazines I read, relationships work much better when you ve got shared interests in common.

I think London needs a regular field agent who s at least heard of diplomacy, I said carefully.

You re a fine one to talk!

True. But at least I can fake it when I have to. For you, diplomacy is just something you ve heard of that other people do.

I can fake it if I have to, Molly said darkly.

I d really rather not go there, I said.

Let us consider the external protections of the Establishment Club, before we go any further.

We both looked the club s exterior over carefully. My Sight immediately revealed that the whole front of the building was crawling with defence spells, and energy fields and layer upon layer of really heavy-duty protections. Intertwining and overlapping force shields and shimmering screens, with built-in weapons both magical and technological, along with all kinds of curses, bombs and booby traps. Some of the protections shone so brightly they almost blinded my inner eye. Just trying to make sense of the various patterns and structures made my head ache.

Okay, I said, after a while. Some of these defence systems are seriously old. Laid down centuries ago, going right back to Londinium times. Hell, some of them go back so far I ve only ever read about them in old books. To be honest, the word overkill is coming to mind. Even Buckingham Palace doesn t have some of the orders of protection I m Seeing here. Layers upon layers, supporting and reinforcing one another. Something this intricate doesn t just happen. This was planned.

Can you break through it? Molly said bluntly.

Is your new armour up to it?

Maybe. Eventually. But not without drawing a lot of attention and probably the arrival of major reinforcements.

The Regent did say Crow Lee had his own private army.

Well, yes, but I doubt he brings them with him when he comes to visit his club. He d expect the club to protect him. Probably has his own bodyguard, though.

Hah! said Molly. I laugh in the face of bodyguards! And then I do really awful things to them and make them cry for their mothers.

I know, I said. I ve seen you do it. Let us try the straightforward way first.

I nodded significantly at the doorman, who was still standing stiffly at attention before the club s doorway, pretending he wasn t giving his full attention to every word we were saying.

Ah! Molly said happily. The old way! The bullying and intimidation of stuck-up flunkies! Oh, Eddie, you re so good to me.

Yes, I am, I said. And don t you forget it.

I get to go first!

Of course.

Molly strode up to the doorman so she could glare right into his face. Though she had to stand on tiptoe to do it. He met her gaze levelly, giving every indication of being entirely unmoved. Which was, of course, the worst thing he could have done. Molly will stand for a lot of things, but being ignored definitely isn t one of them.

We are coming in, Molly said firmly. That can be past you, or over your beaten and broken body. It s up to you. Guess which I d prefer.

No trainers, said the doorman. And definitely no witches that don t know their place. No entrance here ever, unless you re a member in good standing, which you aren t and never will be. Now piss off, girlie, or I ll set the hellhounds on you.

You haven t got any hellhounds, said Molly, grinning really quite unpleasantly. I d know. So get the hell out of my way, or I ll turn you into a small squishy thing with your testicles floating on the top.

The doorman lowered himself to sneer at her. I hear worse than that from the members every day if I don t move fast enough. You can t touch me; I m protected by the club. Now get out of my sight, before I make you cry.

I stepped forward then to stand beside Molly. You try to be nice to people, but then they have to go and cross the line. No one threatens my Molly and gets away with it. So stand aside, Uniformed Flunky with an Unfortunate Attitude, or I ll rip your dickey off.

Eddie! said Molly, amused but just a bit shocked.

Not in public

A dickey, I explained patiently, is another name for the bow tie.

Ah, said Molly. I hadn t noticed he was wearing one. Now, that is distinctly unappealing. Downright ugly, in fact.

Bow ties are cool, I said. The Travelling Doctor said so.

And he should know, said Molly. He s been around. Mr. Doorman isn t moving, Eddie. Feel free to do your very worst.

I armoured up my right hand, grabbed a handful of the doorman s starched shirtfront and ripped it right off him. Along with his waistcoat and his dickey. The doorman stood there, bare-chested, and gaped at my golden gauntlet. He seemed to shrink in on himself just a little.

Oh, fuck. You re a Drood.

Language, Jeeves, said Molly, highly amused.

I dropped the wreckage of his shirtfront onto the pavement, and held up my golden fist before his face, so he could get a good look at it.

Who are you people? said the doorman. He was deeply upset. I could tell.

I am Eddie Drood, and this delightful yet dangerous young lady is Molly Metcalf, I said just a bit grandly.

A Drood and a Metcalf sister? Oh, shit, said the doorman miserably. I m going home early.

I would, I said.

The doorman turned and ran back into the club, leaving the door standing half-open. His voice gradually faded away as he receded into the club s interior, calling for help and protection. It was nice to know my name still meant something. And Molly s, too, of course.

The protections are still in place, Molly observed pointedly.

So they are, I said. Good for them. And good for us that I have this.

And I held up the skeleton key Patrick had given me. Just a yellowed piece of human bone, carved into a universal key, that could unlock anything. Including some things that were only technically or symbolic locks. I leaned carefully forward and eased the bone key into the door s keyhole. It didn t want to go in, but some applied pressure from my golden hand did the job. And it really didn t want to turn, either, until my golden gauntlet provided the necessary motivation. And then all the protections just disappeared, gone in a moment. I carefully retrieved the bone key and tucked it away about my person.

Definitely knows his stuff, I said to Molly.

All right, don t make a big deal out of it, she said with a sniff. I was learning how to carve skeleton keys while you were still learning how to pick the lock on the Drood tuckshop.

Trust me, I said. Drood Hall has never possessed any such thing.

Don t interrupt me when I m on a roll. Come on. Let s get in there and make some trouble before they get a reception committee organised.

I kicked the front door all the way open and strode inside with Molly sauntering along at my side. It s important to make the right kind of entrance on these sort of occasions. A wide-open hallway fell away before us, discreetly lit and completely empty. There were heavily wood-panelled walls, in the old style, that looked like they could stop cannonballs, plus a parquet floor and a whole bunch of tall potted plants of an almost primordial nature.

I heard soft running footsteps up ahead, approaching at speed. I stopped where I was, and Molly reluctantly stopped with me. I didn t need to look back to know the front door had already closed behind us. I could feel it. I stared carefully into the civilised gloom at the end of the corridor and winced, just a bit, as I recognised the half dozen small and slender figures pattering forward to confront Molly and me.

They stopped a cautious distance away to look Molly and me over with their overbright eyes. Six half-starved teenage boys wrapped in the rags and tatters of what had once been expensive school uniforms. The oldest of them couldn t have been more than fourteen. They crouched rather than stood, a pack of wild animals rather than a group of boys. Dangerous animals, fierce and feral. Pale faced, floppy haired, with thin, pinched faces, disturbing smiles and eyes that were so much older than they should have been. They grinned quickly at each other, laughing silently, hefting the sharp and shiny things they held in their hands.

Children? said Molly. They re sending kids out to stop us?

These aren t children, I said steadily.

Or at least they aren t now and haven t been for some time. These, Molly, are the Uptown Razor Boys. The Eton Irregulars. The delinquent toffs who never grew up.

I summoned my full armour about me, and the golden metal gleamed brightly in the gloom. The Eton Irregulars drew a sharp breath, their eyes shining to reflect the new light, and they spread out quickly to form a semicircle before us, staring unblinking at Molly and me. They looked like boys, but they didn t move or hold themselves like anything human. They had given themselves over to older, darker instincts. They were feral things now, and they gloried in it.

Talk to me, Eddie, said Molly quietly but insistently. Who or what are we facing here?

Surprised you never heard of them, I said.

Though perhaps you don t move in the right circles.

Eddie

Thrown out of Eton School, I said. Expelled back in the sixties after being disturbed in the middle of a black magic ceremony designed to call up the Devil. They might have got away with it, but they d already sacrificed two younger boy, in return for power. They should have been more specific in what they asked for. The boys parents were important enough that they were able to get it all hushed up, but it was too late for the boys. The changes had already begun. They ran away from home first chance they got, and by then the parents were probably relieved to see them gone. Look at them, Molly. All these years and they haven t aged a day. They ll never grow up or grow old; they don t feel things anymore and whatever thoughts move in their heads are nothing we would recognise. They have given themselves over to the delights of slaughter. Can you see what they re holding in their hands?

Yes, said Molly. Old-fashioned straight razors.

Immortal killers with a taste for cutting, I said. Courtesy of Hell. Remind you of anyone?

Mr. Stab, said Molly. The uncaught serial killer of Old London Town.

Hell likes to stick with things that work, I said. The Eton Irregulars are the urban legends that serial killers talk about. They exist on the fringes of the hidden world, hiring themselves out to people with no scruples who still have ties to the Old School. The Uptown Razor Boys: bodyguards, assassins, frighteners and occasionally the first line of defence. I think someone at the club knew we were coming.

But why them? said Molly. Why set them against us?

Because they still look like children, I said.

Which makes it that much harder to fight them. Question is: Do they work for the club or Crow Lee himself?

What difference does that make? said Molly.

I don t want to bring the whole might of the Establishment Club down on us, I said. Not while I m the Last Drood. I can t afford to let myself be stopped before I can reach my family and bring them home. But, no, it doesn t really matter. Some things are just too vile to be allowed to continue. Some vermin just need putting down.

Wow, Eddie, said Molly. Hard-core.

The Uptown Razor Boys swept suddenly, savagely forward, heading right for us like the pack of wild things they really were. Half a dozen teenage boys who d thrown away their Futures in return for the hideous strength that drove them and the supernaturally bright blades they brandished. They shouted and hooted gleefully, moving in perfect symmetry, six minds with a single thought. Their eyes glittered in the dim lighting as they circled Molly and me, jumping and leaping and addressing us with high, harsh voices, one after another.

Drood. Thought you were dead. Should be dead. Always meddling in the affairs of your betters. Interfering in things that are none of your concern. Heavenly armour versus infernal blades. Good intentions versus Hell on Earth. Going down, Drood. All the way down.

It s not enough that they ve been made over into hellspawn, Molly said steadily. They re still the worst part of boys. Did you notice they only addressed themselves to you, Eddie? Because they re still scared of girls.

Shut up! Shut up! howled the Eton Irregulars, leaping and capering around us, brandishing their razors fiercely.

Nasty! Nasty thing! Cut you up! Eat you up! Wear your insides as scarves!

The more they speak, said Molly, the less scary they seem. Funny, that.

Take them seriously, I said. They ve killed a lot of good people in their time. Probably people who didn t take them seriously enough.

Drood, said the Uptown Razor Boys, speaking together in one voice. Cut you up. Kill you, and your little bitch, too.

Now, that s just rude, I said.

They surged forward, and I went to meet them with a cold rage in my heart. Because they stood between me and the rescue of my family. They swarmed all over me in a living wave, hitting me from every side at once, cutting and slicing at my head and throat with their shimmering razors. But even these supernatural blades just skidded harmlessly off my golden armour in showers of sparks. Moxton had made his mistake well. The boys cried out like wolves as they cut at me again and again, cried out like thwarted children, but for all their speed and fury they couldn t hurt me. I chose my timing carefully and punched one of the Eton Irregulars in the head with my golden fist. His whole head exploded, showering gore and fragments of bone across the nearby wall. The sheer force of the blow threw the headless body several feet down the hallway. The remaining Eton Irregulars cried out in shock and rage, a savage howl from human mouths. They only had one another. They threw themselves at me like feral cats, hitting me with all their Hell-given strength, as though they could force their blades through my armour.

I grabbed another of them and slammed his face into the nearest wall. His whole head collapsed and shattered under the force of the impact, and when I let go, the headless body just slid limply down the wall, leaving a heavy trail of blood and bone behind. More howls and screams from the remaining Uptown Razor Boys, and behind my featureless golden face mask I was smiling a fierce grin of my own. It felt good to be killing things that needed killing.

One of the Eton Irregulars broke away from me and went for Molly. She was waiting for him. She had a small flat box in her hand, with a single button on the top. She pointed it at the Razor Boy, who snarled savagely at her and went for her throat. Molly pressed the button and the boy just blew apart soundlessly. Every single bit of his flesh exploded in a moment, reduced to nothing more than a thick pink mist in the air, spreading slowly and silently before pattering to the floor in tiny pink droplets. The bones of his skeleton were left behind, left standing in perfect shape for a moment, and then they just clattered to the parquet floor in a neat little pile. All the bones picked perfectly clean, without a single fleck of meat left on them.

There was a pause as we all just stood where we were and looked at what had just happened. So, I thought coolly. That s what happens when you point a protein exploder at someone.

The three surviving Eton Irregulars turned and ran, sprinting down the hallway. Molly pointed the small box after them, and hit the button again. Three more soft, almost soundless explosions, and once again a fine pink mist filled the hallway for a long moment, before slowly dispersing. And three more neat little piles of human bones. Molly raised the protein exploder to her lips and blew away imaginary smoke from an imaginary gun barrel.

I think I m getting the hang of this, she said. Bit messy, though.

What did you expect? I said. From something called a protein exploder? It really does do what it says on the tin. I looked at her carefully. Does it bother you? What you just did? I mean, they did look like boys.

Yes, said Molly. They did. But they weren t. Hadn t been anything human for a long time. Nothing left inside them but Hell s business. I could tell.

I armoured down and looked up the hallway ahead of us. Everything seemed calm and quiet and very empty.

Does it bother you? said Molly.

What?

You just crushed the heads of two things that still looked like children, said Molly. You didn t even hesitate. You would have once. Before you put on the rogue armour.

You said it yourself, I said. They were just hellspawn. I could tell.

Except I hadn t even looked. Didn t even occur to me to raise my Sight to study their true aspect. I just killed them because they were an immediate threat and they needed killing. And because it felt good. I listened carefully, but I couldn t hear the voice of the rogue armour, couldn t even feel its presence, peering over my mental shoulder. I had to wonder how much of this new iron in my soul was the influence of wearing the rogue armour and how much was just me, a man grieving over his lost family and slowly losing his mind. Just needing to take out his anger on the world. Was I losing control or losing my mind? I told myself it didn t matter. I would do whatever needed doing for my family. Deal with the problems in front of me. Move on and worry later.

It wasn t like anyone was going to grieve over the loss of the Uptown Razor Boys.

I strode forward, stepping carefully past the piles of bones, leaving Molly to hurry after me.

Is it too much to ask? I said. For someone to design a weapon that cleans up after itself?

It would be nice, said Molly. Not having to be careful where you tread after a fight.

And then we both stopped, as a tall cocky figure came slouching down the hall towards us. He just appeared out of nowhere, smiling easily, in a scruffy combat jacket and grubby jeans. Big and rangy, with the kind of muscle that comes from regular hard living rather than hard workouts in the gym. He had a square head, close-cropped dark hair and a cool, thoughtful gaze. There was an easy built-in menace to his every movement. He swayed to a halt a respectful distance away.

Hello, squire. And lady. I m Bunny Hollis, at your service. Ex-SAS combat sorcerer. No job too big; no killing too small. I got thrown out of the SAS for sadistic excesses, which is ironic, as that s how most of us get in. These days, I m strictly freelance. Cash up front, no questions asked and I ll even make the bodies disappear at no extra charge. He looked meaningfully at the mess in the hall, between him and Molly and me. Got to say, you made a real mess of those kids. Good thing, too. It s animals like that give hardworking professionals like us a bad name. So, you re Eddie Drood. I ve always fancied my chances against a Drood.

So did the Uptown Razor Boys, I said. And look what happened to them.

Hollis just smiled his easy smile. Got to say, I m just a bit surprised to see you here, Eddie Drood. Little bird told me you and all your family were dead and gone.

Rumours of our destruction have been greatly exaggerated, I said.

Hollis grinned at Molly. And a Metcalf sister! Ah, the stories I ve heard about you girls Molly, Molly, quite contrary, how does your body count grow? I thought I was bad till I read your file. A Drood and a Metcalf Just for the record, how the hell do you have the nerve to claim you re the good guys? I ve fought actual wars for queen and country and I haven t killed nearly as many as you.

I only kill people who need killing, I said steadily.

Hollis sneered at me. Yeah, that s what they all say, squire. They ve always got their excuse ready. It wasn t me, your honour. It was the voices in my head. Read it in the Bible; I answer to a higher calling! I ve heard it all before and it always comes down to bodies on the ground and blood on the hands. At least I m honest enough to admit up front I m only in it for the money. I m a professional soldier, because that s what I do best. I fight strictly for hard cash, not some nebulous cause.

Bit chatty for an ex-squaddie, aren t you? I said. But then, I never met an ex-soldier who didn t feel the need to justify himself for how far he d fallen. Look Hollis, was it? You can still step aside. We re not here for you. We re here for Crow Lee.

Well, you can t have him, said Hollis.

You work for him, and you have the brass nerve to lecture us? said Molly. Or did no one explain the whole Most Evil Man in the World bit to you?

You say potato, I say hard cash, said Hollis.

His money will spend as easily as anyone else s.

But the things he s done I said, but Hollis cut me off before I could go any further.

Compared to what you Droods have done, he s just a beginner.

It s not what you do, I said. It s why you do it.

Oh, come on! said Hollis. That s your justification? The terrorists favourite excuse? That the end justifies the atrocities?

You really don t know my family, I said.

Don t argue with him, Eddie, said Molly.

He doesn t really care. He s just making conversation to hold us here while Crow Lee escapes out the back door.

Hollis flashed her a quick grin. You re smarter than you look, girlie. Come on. Let s do it. You know you want to.

I armoured up, the golden metal surging out and over me, and Hollis snapped upright out of his slouch and actually fell back a step. He frowned uncertainly.

There s something wrong with your armour, Drood. I ve seen Drood armour before, and it never looked like that. I don t like the look of it.

That s all right, I said, through my featureless face mask. It doesn t like the look of you.

No, he s right, Eddie, said Molly, and there was something in her voice that made me turn to look at her. She was staring at me as though she d never seen me in my armour before. Something s wrong, Eddie. Your armour looks different. It looks tarnished.

I didn t know what to say to that, so I just shrugged and looked back at Hollis. Just in time to see him raise his right hand and make the shape of a gun with it, pointing the finger at me the way children do when they re pretending. And then he shot me in the chest. The impact sent me staggering backwards and left a great crater in the centre of my chest. But the armour protected me from the impact and repaired itself in seconds. I quickly recovered my balance and started forward. Hollis was using a conceptual gun, shaped and focused psychokinesis. I d heard of it, but never encountered it in the field before. Hollis took careful aim and fired again, three times in swift succession, his pointing finger jerking each time with the recoil. But I just strode forward into the invisible bullets, my armour booming loudly with each impact, shrugging the conceptual bullets off increasingly easily.

Hollis looked distinctly put-upon. He opened his hand, dismissing the conceptual gun, and gestured sharply with his other hand. A bottomless hole opened up directly beneath me, carpet and floorboards disappearing in a great circle to reveal a long drop with shimmering silver sides, falling away forever. And while Drood armour can do many marvellous things, flying isn t one of them. Luckily, I was blessed with really good reflexes. Even as the hole appeared and I started to fall, I was already throwing myself forward. I grabbed onto the edge of the hole as I fell past it. My metal fingers sank deep into the wooden floor, crunching and splintering the floorboards. My fall stopped abruptly, my whole weight hanging from the single handhold.

I looked down and immediately wished I hadn t. The terrible endless drop seemed to grab hold of my gaze, hypnotising me. It took a real effort of will to jerk my gaze away and look up at my handhold. Hollis was standing right over me, grinning. He stamped down hard on my golden hand and hurt his foot. He fell back from the hole, cursing loudly. Molly leaned over the hole from the other side.

I don t like to intrude but do you by any chance need a hand?

No, thanks, I said. I can manage.

I hauled myself up by brute strength, until I could get a second handhold, and then pulled myself up and out of the hole. The moment I had my feet back on the floor again, the hole disappeared. Inside the armour I was shaking just a bit, but no one else could tell. I nodded quickly to Molly and then looked over at Hollis. He scowled at me and plucked something out of the air. He held it up triumphantly before him, a shiny sparkling thing I couldn t seem to look at properly, even with all the filters and amplifications built into my mask. The thing seemed to twist and turn in Hollis s hand, as though its shape and nature were constantly changing. Hollis laughed aloud.

The answer to Drood armour: a supernatural can opener! I don t know why no one s ever thought of it before!

And before I could tell him why, he came surging forward to slam the shining thing against the side of my neck. It shattered immediately in Hollis s hand, falling apart into a hundred shiny pieces. Hollis cried out, as much in shock and rage as pain, and darted backwards, shaking his stunned hand. I was grinning easily behind my mask.

People did think of it before, I said. Lots and lots of them. But this is Drood armour. Why settle for less?

Oh, well, said Hollis, between gritted teeth as he shook his hand to get the feeling back into it, Worth a try Tell you what: Why don t we try this sneaky little thing I ve been saving for a rainy day? Specially designed to blast strange matter out of this world and back where it came from!

He raised his left hand again, and strange energies curled and whorled around it, twisting and turning in complex patterns. Hollis threw them at me, and the energies shot forward and splashed across my armour, only to sputter out and fade away almost immediately, unable to get a grip. Hollis just stood there and stared at me, blinking dazedly. I could have told him I was wearing rogue armour without a speck of strange matter in it, but why spoil the fun? Hollis said a few baby swear words that you wouldn t expect from a hardened ex-SAS officer, and actually stamped his foot on the floor in frustration.

Bastard sold me a pup! Last time I buy anything from a Nightside street trader!

Hell, I said. I could have told you that.

He looked at me. Don t you laugh at me, Drood. Don t you do that.

Molly came forward to stand beside me, and fixed Hollis with a cold, considering stare. You ve been ignoring me, soldier boy. And that is never a good idea.

She threw a whole series of fireballs at him, one after the other. Big balls of yellow sulphurous flames, crackling fiercely on the still air. Hollis threw one arm up and the fireballs slammed up against an invisible barrier, stopping dead in their tracks. Molly sniffed briefly and switched to throwing balls of spitting and sizzling energies. Hollis didn t stick around to find out whether his barrier would stop them; he was already off and moving, ducking and dodging. He jumped up onto the nearest wall and ran along it, and then switched to running upside down on the ceiling, laughing breathlessly. Molly pursued him with her energy balls, but he was moving so fast she couldn t keep up with him. The energy balls just ran out of steam before they could reach him, and fell apart. Hollis jumped down onto the other wall and I was right there, matching his speed with my own. I grabbed one ankle with a golden hand and then pulled him off the wall and slammed him onto the floor. He hit hard and curled into a ball, fighting to get his breath back. Molly nodded to me.

Nice one, Eddie.

I thought so.

And while we were busy congratulating ourselves, Hollis sat up abruptly and spoke a single powerful Word. The wooden floor exploded before us, solid floorboards flowing like water as they took on new shape and purpose under his augmented will. They formed themselves into two huge wooden hands that wrapped themselves around Molly and me in a moment, crushing us so tightly neither of us could move. It was all I could do to get my breath, even inside my armour s protection, and with my arms pinned to my sides I had no leverage to use against the unnatural strength of the wooden fingers. The hands rose, holding Molly and me off the floor, our legs dangling helplessly, utterly helpless. Molly hung limply, eyes closed, in the hand. Either through shock or unconsciousness. I struggled fiercely to get to her, but couldn t budge the wooden fingers in the least. Hollis got to his feet, took a moment to brush himself off and then smiled mockingly at me.

High and mighty Drood with his cheating armour, never underestimate the value of planning and preparation. Of checking out the scene in advance and setting a few booby traps before the enemy shows his face. I knew you were coming here. Crow Lee told me. And unlike those stuck-up devil boys of his, I think ahead. I ve spent a lot of time thinking on how best to take down a Drood. Now, I m sure that impressive armour of yours will break free eventually, but by then, it ll be far too late. I ve got something special here just for you. Supernatural Can Opener, Part Two. Try not to take what happens next personally, Drood. It s just what I do.

He walked unhurriedly up to me, the wooden hand lowering me slowly until I was face-to-face with him. I still couldn t move. He lifted his hands and placed them on either side of my face mask. The bones within his hands glowed fiercely, blazing right through the flesh, and then the glow seemed to seep slowly through the flesh to encase both his hands in the same brightly glowing light. Hollis set both hands carefully on either side of my head, and up close the glare almost blinded me.

The shining fingers clamped onto the golden metal. It didn t even occur to me to flinch. I trusted my armour to protect me, as it always had. The fingertips dug deep into my armour. I couldn t move; paralysed, helpless. The glowing fingers sank in deep and then pulled back, stretching and distorting the face armour. I screamed despite myself as an agonising pain swept through me. I was bonded to the rogue armour as a living thing, and its pain was my pain. Hollis pulled his glowing hands this way and that, tugging at the face mask, and the armour stretched and deformed but wouldn t break. I screamed again as the armour screamed, as Hollis struggled to pull the mask off me.

I could hear Molly screaming at Hollis. Leave him alone, you bastard! Stop it! I ll kill you for this!

Shut it, girlie, said Hollis, not even looking at her. I ll get to you when I m finished with him.

He moved in close, concentrating on me as he fought to break the face mask. I was screaming so hard now, it hurt my throat. And while Hollis was concentrating on me, Molly pulled her wits together and concentrated on a simple teleport spell. She jumped herself out of the wooden hand and reappeared right behind Hollis. He started to turn, but Molly had already picked up one of the heavy potted plants and broke it over his head. The sheer weight of the thing clubbed Hollis to the floor and tore his glowing hands away from my mask. I cried out one last time and hung limply in the wooden hand, while the golden metal of my face mask slowly reformed itself. I watched numbly as Molly kicked Hollis good and hard in the ribs, to make sure he was unconscious, and then she hurried over to stand before me. She grabbed hold of the Twilight Teardrop hanging from her throat and spat out a single powerful Word. The wooden fingers holding me rotted and fell apart, and I fell through them to collapse on the floor. I forced myself up onto my knees. Molly was quickly there beside me.

Eddie, are you all right? I never heard you scream like that before.

I m fine, I said. I had to say it again before it sounded like I meant it. I m fine, Molly. It was the armour that was hurt, not me.

I armoured down, and the golden metal retreated into my torc with something like relief. I think both of us were surprised to discover just how close a relationship we d entered into. I stayed on my knees for a while, Molly crouching beside me, until I was sure I was back in control, and then I got to my feet. Molly got up with me, hovering at my side, but didn t try to help me. I moved across to stand over Hollis. There was blood on his face from where the plant pot had cracked his scalp as it shattered, but he was breathing easily enough. His hands weren t glowing anymore.

Why a potted plant? I said to Molly.

She shrugged. Because it was there. What do we do with him now?

I kicked Hollis in the ribs, hard enough to pick him up and send his body skidding across the floor and slam into the opposite wall. I went after him again, but immediately Molly was blocking my way, staring intently into my face.

Don t, Eddie.

He tried to kill me. He would have killed you. He doesn t deserve to live.

You can t just kill him in cold blood.

Why not? You didn t have any problems exploding the Eton Irregulars while they were running away.

That s different, and you know it. They weren t human anymore.

I m not leaving this dangerous an enemy at our back. He dies.

Eddie, this isn t like you.

Get out of my way!

No!

I raised a hand to hit her, and then stopped it in midair. Molly didn t move, still staring intently into my eyes. The golden gauntlet hung on the air between us, shining brightly. One blow would have been enough to crush her skull. I hadn t called the armour. I hadn t. I glared at it, willing it back into my torc. It didn t want to go. The rogue armour had unfinished business with Hollis. I could feel it. The armour wasn t talking to me, but I could feel its presence at the back of my mind. I overrode it through sheer force of will, and the golden gauntlet disappeared. I lowered my hand, my whole arm shaking with the effort. Molly moved in close, laying her hands on my chest, looking into my face, making sure it was just me.

It s all right, I said. I m back.

Eddie

You do know I would never hurt you, right? I said. That I would die before I ever let anyone hurt you.

Yes, Eddie. I know. That wasn t you, was it? That was the rogue armour.

Yes. It appears we re more closely linked than I anticipated. More than I ever intended.

You promised me you could control it.

I can!

You could still get rid of it, said Molly.

Force it back out of your torc.

And leave Moxton s Mistake running loose in London with no one inside to control it? I said. I can t risk that. And besides, I still need it.

I looked across at Hollis. There was fresh blood at his mouth from where I d kicked him into the wall.

Did I do that? I said.

I don t know, said Molly. Did you?

He hurt the armour, I said. I didn t think that was possible. He made the armour angry.

So he brought it on himself?

No I just lost control there for a moment. I won t let that happen again. I keep forgetting Moxton s Mistake is a living thing, not just the armour I usually wear. So now when I get angry, I m never sure whose emotions I m feeling.

This isn t the first time that s happened, said Molly.

I just looked at her. There was nothing else I could say. For good or bad, I needed the armour. Not for me; for my family.

I reached into my pocket and took out the portable hole I d found in the other Hall s wrecked Armoury. I dropped the black blob onto the floor, spread it out, and it immediately became an open door, revealing the level some distance below. I rolled Hollis across the floor and over the edge, and he dropped through into the floor below, landing with a satisfyingly hard thump. I peeled the portable door back off the floor, rolled it into a ball, and put it away again.

Why didn t you do that before? said Molly.

Because I didn t think of it. All right? I said. You can t think of everything. Did you remember I had it on me? Well, then

Don t you get snotty with me, Eddie Drood!

Some conversations you just know aren t going to go anywhere good. I turned away and started up the hallway.

Let s get going, I said. We ve got a club to search.

We pressed deeper into the Establishment Club, and most of the members we passed along the way took one look at us and immediately took pains to make themselves scarce. Middle-aged and old men, mostly, no one even remotely young or youthful. This was a club for people who d made it, not those on the way up. There were apparently no women members, either. The Establishment Club had been around a long time, and clung to its ancient privileges and prejudices. Members disappeared through open doorways or hurried into other rooms or just pressed themselves back against the walls as Molly and I passed, before heading for the exit at speed. They knew terrible and imminent danger when they saw it.

The various servants just moved briskly to get out of our way and carried on about their business, watching Molly and me with unmoved faces and unblinking eyes. They were all of them dressed in the same old-fashioned formal uniform, with a bloodred waistcoat over a starched white shirt, knee-britches and highly polished shoes. They looked like something out of the last century, or possibly even the one before that. They all had the same very pale aspect, as though they didn t get out often enough.

Molly and I took turns to peer into various rooms along the way, looking for Crow Lee, but they were all very much the same. Every comfort and luxury, but in a determinedly old-fashioned and traditional way. No televisions, no computers, nothing electronic. This was an old-school gentlemen s club, whose main attraction was that it had absolutely no intention of moving with the times. Rich and successful-looking businessmen were everywhere, reclining in huge oversized leather chairs, or sleeping with their mouths open, like satisfied cats. Some read broadsheets or upmarket magazines or the better kind of book and made loud shushing sounds at the slightest unexpected noise. Until they looked up and saw Molly and me, at which point they hid behind whatever they were reading until we were safely past.

Finally the club s steward came forward to meet us. Presumably because our reputation had preceded us. He was tall and painfully slender, in the same formal outfit, and with the same disturbingly pale face and steady gaze. In fact, his face was entirely expressionless as he came to an abrupt halt before us. He bowed stiffly and addressed us in a dry and dusty voice.

Might I enquire your names, sir and madam, and what I might best do to assist you? On the grounds that the sooner we get that done and get you out of here, the sooner we can get back to normal around here.

Eddie Drood and Molly Metcalf, I said grandly.

Is that going to be a problem?

Oh no, sir, said the Steward, just a bit surprisingly. You are a member in good standing, Mr. Edwin. Everyone in your family is, and has been for centuries. Mr. Matthew used to come in all the time to avail himself of the club s wine cellars. The young lady is, of course, entirely welcome as your guest. How may I assist you?

Matthew always did like a free drink, I said.

And I think I could murder something tall and frosty, too. How about you, Molly?

I could drink, said Molly. In fact, after the day I ve had, I think I could drink quite a lot.

The steward issued the very faintest of sighs, and I looked interestedly to see if dust would come out of his mouth. It didn t. He led us down a corridor or two and into the club bar. Everyone else in the bar immediately decided they were needed urgently elsewhere. In fact, there was a bit of a rush and a definite crush in the door, for a moment. Molly and I lined up at the bar, and the barman came forward to serve us. A tall, grey-faced figure in the same old-fashioned outfit, with deep-set eyes, a cadaverous face and a professional smile. He gave the impression he d been serving behind that bar for quite some time.

How long have you been here, barman? said Molly, her thoughts clearly running the same way as mine.

I have always been here, madam, said the barman, in a cool if distant voice. What is your pleasure, sir and madam?

I had an ice-cold bottle of Becks. Molly had a bottle of Beefeater gin. The barman served them both immediately from under the bar counter, as though he d had them there prepared and waiting all along. And then he just stood there, waiting for his next instructions. I took a slow reflective drink from my nice cold bottle of Becks, while Molly made serious inroads into her bottle of gin. Nothing like fighting delinquent demon schoolboys and an ex-SAS combat sorcerer to work up a serious thirst. The steward stood to one side, waiting patiently. And giving every indication of being prepared to wait there for as long as was necessary. I looked him over thoughtfully, and only then realised that he wasn t blinking. Or breathing.

Excuse me, steward, I said. But you are dead, aren t you?

Indeed, sir, said the steward. All the staff here are. Though we prefer to think of ourselves as mortally challenged. We served the club in life and continue to serve it in death. Not a lot of difference, really. We are here because we choose to be, because none of us wishes to leave the club. We think of it as ours. The members are just passing through, but we are always here.

I have always been the barman, said the barman, without being asked.

Do the members know? said Molly.

They prefer it, madam, said the steward. It means they don t have to remember our names or bother with gratuities. Now that you are both suitably refreshed, might I again enquire as to your purpose here at the Establishment Club? Can I assist you in any way?

We re looking for Crow Lee, I said.

Nothing simpler, sir. He s just this way, in the club library. He s been waiting for you.

I looked at Molly and then back at the steward. He has?

Oh, indeed, sir. He s been waiting here for you for quite some time. He came in especially early for him, just to be sure of meeting you.

I emptied my bottle of Becks, slammed it down on the bar counter, and nodded briskly to the steward. Then take us to him. Right now.

Of course, sir. If you and the young lady would like to follow me

He led us out of the emptied bar and set off at a steady pace. Molly and I strolled along behind him, refusing to be hurried, on general principle. Molly was still clinging determinedly to her bottle of gin. I knew better than to comment. She leaned in close beside me to murmur in my ear.

So, what s the plan?

Plan? I said.

We re about to go up against the Most Evil Man in the World! On his own territory! I think at least one of us ought to have a plan of action. Don t you?

Well, we can t just walk in there and kill him, I said.

We can t? said Molly. Are you sure about that, because I m certainly willing to give it a good try.

What was it you said just now about not killing in cold blood?

That was a person! Just an old pro, like us! This is the Most Evil, et cetera, who will almost certainly kill us if we don t get our retaliation in first!

He sent my family away, I said. It s always possible he might be able to bring them back again.

Ah, said Molly. Yes. All right. So we talk first, see if we can strike some kind of deal, and as soon as it becomes clear we can t, then we kill him. Any ideas on how?

We improvise, I said. Suddenly and violently and all over the place. And try very hard not to get ourselves killed in the process.

How powerful do you think he is, really? said Molly.

I don t know, I said. But I think we re about to find out the hard way.

The steward took us straight to the club library, opened the door and stood well back, allowing Molly and me to enter entirely at our own risk. Even the mortally challenged know better than to get involved in some things. Or to get caught in the crossfire. He announced us as we strode in.

Mr. Crow Lee, may I present to you Mr. Edwin Drood, and his associate, Miss Molly Metcalf. Should you require me or any other member of staff, I should point out that we will all be hiding in the cloakroom until the forthcoming unpleasantness is over. At which point we will emerge, as there will no doubt be a great deal of cleaning up to do. Gratuities will be appreciated on this occasion, for the extra work.

The closing door cut off his last few words as he absented himself. No one was paying him much attention. Molly and I stood side by side in the club library, facing Crow Lee and his bodyguard. The library wasn t much, in my opinion. I was used to the massive, extensive libraries of Drood Hall. Repositories of secret and hidden knowledge amassed over centuries; forbidden books laid down to mature like fine wines. This was just a big room with bookshelves on all four walls. I leaned over for a quick look; not even leather bound. Just standard hardback editions, the kind you can order by the yard.

There were no other members in the club library, presumably because Crow Lee was there. He sat in a large comfortable armchair, entirely at his ease, smiling in a smug and satisfied way. As though he d been sitting there for ages, just waiting for us to come in. And maybe he had. Crow Lee was a large, broad-faced, powerful-looking man, wearing a long Egyptian gown so spotlessly white it seemed to shine and shimmer in the restricted light of the library. He had a great shaven head and piercing dark eyes under bushy black eyebrows. So large a man, he seemed to fill his chair to overflowing. His hands, emerging from the narrow pure white sleeves, were particularly big and powerful. He had an almost hypnotic gaze, with eyes that seemed to look deep into me. So I deliberately looked away. At meetings like this it s always important to establish the ground rules early on.

Crow Lee reclined in his chair and made no move to rise to greet Molly and me. He didn t even offer to shake hands. Instead he smiled easily at me, ignoring Molly, like an important personage indulging some pushy interloper. So completely confident in manner that he passed right through arrogance and out the other side into confident again. We didn t worry him, because nothing worried him. Because he d killed everyone who might have worried him. He fixed me with his cold, dark gaze, giving me his full attention. So I refused to look at him, giving all my attention to the bodyguard standing silently at his side.

I took my time looking him over. I knew him. Molly and I both knew Mr. Stab, and he knew us. The notorious uncaught serial killer of Old London Town. He d operated under many names down the years, and I don t think even he knew just how many women he d butchered and killed in his time. Since he made himself deathless through the ritual slaughter of six unfortunate women in Whitechapel during that unseasonably warm autumn of 1888. When everyone knew the name the papers had given him. Mr. Stab was tall and solemn, dressed in the formal clothes of his own time, right down to the opera cape and top hat. He could blend into a crowd when he had to, could look just like everyone else when he was out on the streets after dark, pursuing his prey. But when acting in his professional capacity, he preferred the look of his legendary past.

His ominous presence dominated the whole room, but he was still the second-most-dangerous person there, and everyone knew it. Because Crow Lee really was the Most Evil Man in the World. You had only to look at him to know it.

He should have been stroking a white cat in his lap. Or pulling its legs off.

I stepped forward, still deliberately not looking at Crow Lee, giving all my attention to the man in black, Mr. Stab. He nodded thoughtfully to me and to Molly.

It s been a while, I said, since I invited you into my home, and you repaid my kindness by murdering my cousin Penny.

I told her not to love me, said Mr. Stab, in his cold, calm voice. I told her it could only end badly.

She was my friend! said Molly. And you killed her!

Yes, said Mr. Stab. It s what I do. It s all I can do with a woman now. Not quite the immortality I thought I was buying, with my celebration of slaughter. But then, Hell has always had its own sly sense of humour. You know who and what I am, Molly. I ve never made any secret of what kind of monster I am.

And I m a Drood, I said. That s who and what I am. I protect the innocent, and when I can t, I avenge their murders.

I looked at him steadily, and he stirred uncomfortably for a moment. Crow Lee laughed out loud and clapped his huge hands together.

Bravo, young Drood! I m impressed! Really. There aren t many in this world who can make the notorious Mr. Stab shiver in his shoes.

He spoke directly to me, still ignoring Molly. I could feel her containing herself at my side. She knew he was trying to get to her. Crow Lee s voice was rich and cultured, soft and self-indulgent and oh, so self-satisfied. The voice of a man with nothing to fear.

I don t think I ve ever seen anyone disturb dear Mr. Stab before. So welcome to the Establishment Club, Edwin Drood. You belong here, with your own kind. You really are everything I hoped you d be.

I looked him up and down and then dismissed him to glare at Mr. Stab again. How did he hire you? What could he possibly promise you?

An end to my curse, said Mr. Stab.

There is only one end for something like you, I said. And that s to kill you. And I ll do that for free, for what you did to Penny.

And for so many others, said Mr. Stab. Funny how it s always easier for you to care about the ones you knew. And, anyway, you already tried, and failed.

But this time I ll hold you down while he does it, said Molly. You promised me I could trust you.

Promises are made to be broken, said Mr. Stab.

Who should know that better than I?

Don t, I said. Don t you dare try and make us feel sorry for you. Not after everything you ve done.

I stood beside you, said Mr. Stab. Stood with the Droods when you went to war with the Hungry Gods. Helped you save the world. Shouldn t that count for something?

What do you want? I said. A thank-you?

I tried! I tried because I didn t want to be a monster anymore!

Then what are you doing here with Crow Lee? said Molly.

Because sometimes it takes one monster to destroy another, said Mr. Stab.

Well, Crow Lee said brightly. Isn t this nice? Old friends talking together. Thank you for joining me here in the Club Library, Eddie.

Call this a library? I said. A collected Dickens and a few Trollopes?

If you ve quite finished chatting with the hired help, said Crow Lee, determined to draw everyone s attention back to himself, we do have matters of importance to discuss.

Molly and I both looked at him, and he wriggled delightedly in his chair, enjoying himself; a disturbing movement in one so large. He looked me over, taking his time. Still ignoring Molly.

I never thought I d have to look at a Drood again, said Crow Lee. But then, you re like cockroaches, aren t you? So many of you, and so hard to kill. But worth the effort.

So you admit you re responsible for the attack on Drood Hall? I said.

Crow Lee laughed happily. Admit it, little Drood? I boast it. I glory in it! I ve known all about Alpha Red Alpha for years and years, just waiting for someone in your family to be foolish enough to use it. I had the remote control, you see, the means to override the mechanism, but

I cut in. I knew he was teasing me, but I just couldn t help it. I had to know.

How did you get your hands on the remote control? Who did you get it from?

From the same person who first told me about Alpha Red Alpha, Crow Lee said easily. You have a traitor in your family, dear Eddie. A very old and very well-established, very well-hidden traitor. And I have always been so very well served by traitors. He hates you even more than I do, and with much better reason. But as I was saying before I was so impertinently interrupted I had to wait for someone in your family to feel so threatened that they d actually risk using Alpha Red Alpha, before I could use my remote control. You see, you have to lower all the Hall s protections before you can activate the dimensional engine. They interfere with its workings, apparently. Can you imagine what it was like for me, learning that you d used the thing at last? And that all I had to do was wait for you to return and then hit the button on my special remote control? No, you can t imagine what it felt like, knowing I finally had the means to send your whole stupid, interfering family away, forever.

I struck while you were vulnerable, and just like that, you were gone! Good-bye, Droods, forever! Rotated out of reality and dumped somewhere else. I do hope it turned out to be somewhere really appalling. I sent them there and I left them there, and I laughed and laughed and laughed.

And then you dropped the other Hall in its place, I said, and something in my voice stopped his laughing. To hide what you d done.

Oh no, said Crow Lee. That was just a happy accident. An entirely unanticipated and fortuitous side effect. I did enjoy it, though. A wrecked and ruined Hall and dead Droods lying everywhere what s not to like? They weren t the actual family I hated, but they were Droods, and I m sure I would have hated them if I d known them.

You bastard, I said.

I started forward, and Crow Lee stopped me with an upheld hand.

Think, little Drood. Consider the implications of what I ve done. Whatever happens next between you and me, I want you to understand that you cannot undo the one thing I ve done that really matters. I have proven to the world that Droods can be beaten. The wrecked Hall and dead Droods are proof of that, forever. Even if you do somehow escape my wrath and continue as the Last Drood, even if you somehow find a way to bring your nasty family back the world will never see you as unstoppable again. I ve seen to that.

I had to smile. All right. You re reaching now.

Am I, little Drood?

Bring my family back, I said. And I promise I won t kill you.

Crow Lee lost his easy smile. He scowled fiercely at me. No one gives me orders, boy. I ve never needed a family to make me strong. I ve never needed armour to hide behind. I made myself what I am through sheer force of will!

And by killing a whole lot of people, I said.

Mostly through treachery, backstabbing, and getting other people to do your dirty work for you. Don t try it on me. I ve read your file.

Crow Lee leaned forward in his chair and fixed me with his dark, disturbing gaze. And suddenly he was the most fascinating thing in the room. I forgot about everything else, forgot about Mr. Stab, forgot about Molly, forgot about my poor lost family. I was staring into Crow Lee s eyes and I couldn t look away. Didn t want to look away. Crow Lee spoke directly to me, and his voice was the most compelling thing I d ever heard.

You don t want to fight me, said Crow Lee. I am your friend. You know you can trust me. My enemies are your enemies. You want to protect me against my enemies. Like that woman standing beside you. You can t trust her. You know that. She s always getting in the way, meddling in your affairs. You want to be free of her. So kill her. Kill her for me and for yourself.

All the time he was speaking to me, I knew it was all bullshit. Knew it, knew he was lying through his teeth. I didn t believe a word of it, but still I couldn t stop listening to him. He held me with his dark, hypnotic gaze and his persuasive words. I fought him with everything I had. Fought his influence and the words he was saying, and bit by bit I drew back from him.

I took a deep breath and looked away, breaking Crow Lee s gaze. His influence was gone in a moment. He looked at me openmouthed, as though he couldn t believe it, and I looked back at him and laughed in his face, just a bit shakily.

Had me a little bit worried there for a moment, sweetie, murmured Molly.

Droods are trained to withstand mental challenges, I said loudly and confidently. Because we are, but it had still been a bit too close for my liking.

You dare defy me? whispered Crow Lee. You dare?

Were you bullied as a child? I said. Did they make your life hell at school? Is that what this is all about? Because this whole Most Evil Man bit strikes me as just so much overcompensation.

Crow Lee turned his burning hypnotic gaze on Molly. Kill him! Kill him!

Molly just laughed at him. Oh, come on. You have got to be kidding. I m the wild witch, remember? The laughter in the woods and the lightning in the storm? Frankly, I m offended you even thought that would work.

She brought the bottle of gin to her lips, took in a good mouthful and then leaned forward abruptly and sprayed the whole lot across Crow Lee s face. The stream of neat gin burst into flames as it left her lips, and Crow Lee screamed shrilly, like a small child, as flames leapt up all over his face. He wiped them away quickly with his bare hands, burning them too in the process, and jumped to his feet. His face was scalded bright red where it wasn t flushed with rage, and his eyes were already puffing shut. He snapped his fingers imperiously at Mr. Stab.

Do your job, old monster! he said fiercely.

Rid me of these nuisances!

There was a pause. Mr. Stab didn t move a muscle. In his cold, calm voice he said, Regretfully, I cannot. I fear you overestimate my abilities.

Crow Lee stared at him blankly. Do as you re told, damn you! Kill them! Kill them both!

I can t, said Mr. Stab. They re a Drood and a Metcalf, and I m just an ill-made monster. It s a wise monster who knows his limitations.

Crow Lee took control of himself, with an obvious effort. Drops of steaming gin were still falling from his burnt chin.

I know there is a history between you and them. That should make it easier. That s why I hired you!

Look at the Drood s torc, said Mr. Stab.

Look at his armour.

Crow Lee stopped and then stared at me for a long moment before nodding slowly, grudgingly. Ah yes. I do See what you mean. Well, then, Eddie and Molly, we ll do this little dance another day. When I m better prepared.

He gave us both a sly self-satisfied smile and snapped his fingers loudly. And just like that he was gone. The oversized armchair was empty, and Mr. Stab no longer stood beside it. There wasn t even an inrush of air to fill the space where they d been. It was as though they d never been there.

No! said Molly. You can t do that! He can t do that, Eddie!

I think you ll find he can, I said.

And he has.

The bastard said Molly. I was all fired up and ready to go, and he just runs away?

Well, I said. You don t get to be the Most Evil Man in the World by playing fair. Or fighting when you re not sure the odds are in your favour. What did he mean about my armour, Molly? What did he See just then?

He must have realised you re wearing rogue armour instead of what he was expecting, said Molly, but she wouldn t look at me while she said it.

Mr. Stab surprised me, then, I said, tacitly agreeing to change the subject. I did try to kill him when he killed Penny, but I didn t even come close. I never knew he rated me that highly. Or you, to be honest.

He wasn t scared of us, said Molly.

I think he was just showing us professional courtesy.

Would you do the same for him?

Hell, no. I ll kill him dead the first chance I get.

Good, I said. Because I think he s cut us as much slack as he can. Do you really think he wants to die? You ve known him a lot longer than I.

He s always moped about his condition, said Molly. But if he really wanted to be released from his curse, he would have found a way by now. It s just a pose, a show he puts on in front of company.

He was your friend, I said.

Once upon a time and long ago, said Molly.

I saw myself as a monster, so I went looking for others to keep me company.

What changed that? I said.

She smiled at me. You did, idiot.

Ah, I said. Yes.

That was a prearranged teleport spell, said Molly, changing the subject yet again. So carefully set in place even I couldn t See it. Preprogrammed to take him and Mr. Stab out of here at a moment s notice to a preselected destination. Very professional stuff.

Could he still be here, somewhere in the club? I said.

No. That had all the hallmarks of a long-range teleport. Probably all the way back to his country manor house in Surrey. She looked at me thoughtfully. Could you track him through the Merlin Glass? Go straight after him?

Possibly, I said. But you could bet good money that if we did, we d be walking into a trap. God alone knows what kind of protections and reinforcements he d have waiting for us there. This is a man who believes in planning ahead. Remember the private army? No. We ll go after him, but only after we ve taken some time out to work up a proper plan.

I said we needed a plan.

And you were right.

But we can t afford to give him time to prepare for us, Eddie! His country bolt hole is just crawling with booby traps and hired killers and full-strength nasty surprises! He has defences you wouldn t believe!

It can t be that bad.

Yes, it can! I ve seen it!

There was a pause then as I looked at her thoughtfully. And you know this how?

Because, said Molly reluctantly, I ve been there. More than once. I did business with Crow Lee back in the day.

What? You worked with the Most Evil Man in the World? And you never thought to mention this before?

Don t judge me! Molly said hotly.

Don t you dare judge me! My parents were dead, murdered by your family! I was desperate to avenge them. Ready to work with anyone who could promise me help or weapons to use against the Droods! Crow Lee was very understanding, very helpful.

Yeah, I said. I ll just bet he was.

What about you? You went looking for help when your family made you rogue. You were ready to work with monsters, too!

Yes, I said. But I found you.