The Man with the Golden Torc

CHAPTER NINETEEN You Can Go Home Again (Provided You Carry a Really Big Stick)

Molly and Janissary Jane and I stood in the street outside the liquor store, looking up at the Blue Fairy’s window. The vivid flashes of light had stopped, and it had all gone very quiet. People passed by, paying us no attention. Thinking this was just another day, no different than any other. They didn’t know there was another world, a more dangerous world, that they would see if they would only stop and look. Molly and Janissary Jane and I looked up at a silent, empty window and finally turned away.

"Should we…?" said Molly.

"No," said Janissary Jane. "Either way, it’s over. Finished."

"It’s time to go home," I said. "For I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep."

"I love it when you talk literary," said Molly.

"Eddie…" Janissary Jane said. "I’m sorry, but I’m not going with you. I know my limitations. Fighting demons in Hell dimensions is one thing; taking on your family in the seat of their power…that’s way out of my league. I’d just get in your way. So…I think I’ll sit this one out, if that’s all right with you."

"It’s all right, Jane," I said. "I understand. Trust me; if I didn’t have to do this, I wouldn’t be doing it either." I looked at Molly. "You don’t have to do this, Molly. My family probably doesn’t even know you’re involved. You could still walk away. I’d understand."

"Hell with that," Molly said cheerfully. "I’ve been dreaming of sticking it to the Droods where they live for years. Besides, you wouldn’t last ten minutes without me to back you up, and you know it."

"Thank you, Molly," I said. "That means a lot to me."

"Just promise me one thing," she said. She held my gaze with hers, fierce and demanding. "Promise me that we’re going back to tear the place down. Promise me you won’t go soft and beg them to take you back."

"Not a chance in hell," I said, meeting her gaze. "This isn’t about what my family did to me anymore. It’s about what they’ve done to everyone."

"You’ve come a long way, Eddie," said Molly. "I wish…I could do something to help you. To save you from what’s inside you. All those years I spent trying to kill you, and now something else is beating me to it…I would save you if I could, Eddie. You do know that?"

"I know," I said. "But…I’ve lived more these last few days with you than in all those years on my own."

"Oh, get a room, you two," said Janissary Jane. "I’m out of here before you start comparing favourite poems."

"We are not an item!" said Molly.

"Definitely not," I said solemnly.

"Yeah, right," said Janissary Jane. "I’ll take the black car, and visit my local union branch. See if I can organise some direct action against Manifest Destiny for allowing Archie Leech to use me as a weapon in their fight. The mercenaries’ guild looks after its own. And we’ve always come down very hard on unfair competition from amateurs. If secret societies want to build up their own private armies, they should come to us. And pay the going rate. So…Eddie, Molly. This is good-bye. Good luck, guys. You’re going to need it. And Eddie…thank you. For saving me from Leech. You could have just destroyed my body and got rid of him that way. It’s what most people would have done."

"I’m not most people," I said.

"Got that right," said Molly.

We all laughed a little, and then Janissary Jane turned and walked away without looking back. She’s always been a sentimental sort, for a mercenary. Molly and I watched her drive away in the big black car, and then we stood together on the pavement outside the liquor store and looked at each other. I really didn’t know what to say to her. Were we an item? Were we…a couple? This was all new to me. Unfamiliar territory. I admired Molly. Liked her, respected her, enjoyed her company…and I risked my life to save hers without even thinking about it. Could this be love, come to me late in life, and unexpected? The family allows its agents to have friends, even lovers, but never loves. Marriages are decided by the family. It’s just another way of controlling us. Love is something that comes afterwards, if you’re lucky. Duty and family must always come first.

Because we protect the world. I’d kill them all, for that lie.

And because I of all people know my family aren’t fit to rule the world. They had to be stopped, brought down, and humbled. While I was still strong enough to do it. I might not be able to save myself, but I could still save the world. One last time.

"I know what you’re thinking," said Molly.

"Rather doubt that," I said.

"Let’s just say I’m as much in the dark as you are," said Molly, her hand resting gently on my right arm. "You’re a good man, Eddie. I think I could become very fond of you…in time. But we don’t have much time, do we? So let’s just do what we have to and worry about other things afterwards. If there is an afterwards." She smiled suddenly. "Hell, your family will probably kill us both anyway. So let’s just concentrate on what we’re going to do next."

"Yes," I said. "Let’s do that."

"Starting with that thing on your lapel," said Molly, leaning in close for a better look at the badge. "The Confusulum. Any idea how you work it?"

I frowned, peering down at the badge. "The Blue Fairy didn’t say. And there wasn’t exactly an opportunity to ask for an instruction manual." I tapped the badge with a fingertip. "Hello? Is there anyone in there?"

And just like that, I made contact with something. Not with my mind; more like with my soul. I could feel something inside my head and inside my heart; not human, not in any way human, but large and laughing, playful and curious. The Confusulum found everything marvellously funny, from this fascinating new world it was in to its own form and nature. It was alive and not alive, more than alive…As much a force and a purpose as a person. This new world, and all the people in it, were just a fascinating novelty to the Confusulum, to be enjoyed and played with for a while. Until it got bored. The Confusulum would serve me for as long as it remained amused, and then it would go somewhere else and do something else. It tried to show me what, but I couldn’t understand or appreciate any of it. The Confusulum laughed again, like a child playing with a brand-new toy, and broke the contact. I looked at Molly.

"Well?" she said.

"I think it’ll do whatever we want," I said cautiously. "It’s…very strange. I don’t know if it’ll confuse our enemies, but it baffles the hell out of me."

Molly sniffed. "Should have given it to me. I’d soon teach it to sit up and beg. I’m used to dealing with magical items with minds of their own. You have to show them who’s boss."

"Oh, I’m pretty sure it knows who’s boss," I said.

"Look, can it help us with our most urgent problem? Namely, how we’re supposed to get to the Hall? All the usual and unusual ways out of London are bound to be closely monitored now, either by your family or Manifest Destiny, and I don’t have nearly enough energy left in me to summon a spatial portal. If only I hadn’t had to smash the Manx Cat to save your life. I could have drawn a lot of power from that statue."

"So this is all my fault, then?"

"Everything is your fault, Drood, until proven otherwise."

"All right," I said patiently. "Let’s start with that. Confusulum, can you help Molly get her power back?"

Oh, sure! said a happy voice in my ear. Easy peasy!

The badge on my lapel pulsed with an otherworldly light, and all around us the world became uncertain. The Confusulum exerted its unique nature and confused the issue so much that the universe itself wasn’t sure whether Molly had her power or not. It was as though someone had nudged the universe in the ribs so that it skipped a beat, and just like that…the world was subtly different. Magic spat and crackled on the air all around Molly as power surged through her, and she laughed aloud with sheer exhilaration. She swept her hands back and forth, and shimmering trails of energy followed her hands. Molly’s face was flushed with an almost sexual excitement, and she looked incredibly alive, full to bursting with all the energies of the wild woods.

I thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

(There were side effects to the change. Posters in the shop windows were suddenly different colours, or had different names. Red roses bloomed in the gutters. And a sheep walked solemnly backwards down the street.)

"Damn!" Molly said, grinning from ear to ear. "This is…amazing! I feel like I could take on the whole damned world and make it cry like a baby! You want a spatial portal, Eddie? I feel like I could transport this whole damned street from one end of the country to the other!"

"Actually, I think that might be a bit conspicuous," I said in what I hoped was a calm, reasonable, and very soothing voice. "And anyway, we can’t risk using a spatial portal to get us to the Hall. My family’s defences would detect that. No, our only chance is to sneak in and take my family by surprise."

"You said you wanted to bring your family down!"

"I do, I do! But even with you back at your best, there’s still no way we can hope to go head-to-head with my family and survive. You know that, Molly."

She scowled. "All right, maybe I do. So, how are we going to get to the Hall?"

"We use the Confusulum," I said. "If it can confuse the whole universe about whether you have magic, it can confuse the world about where we really are. Right, badge?"

Oh, sure! No problem! I just live to confuse the issue! You know, you think very clearly for a three-dimensional entity!

So the Confusulum exerted itself, the world threw up its hands and said, Oh, have it your way then, and Molly and I appeared just inside the Hall’s grounds. Vast grassy lawns stretched away before us, with the house looming up ahead on the horizon. It was early evening now, the light already going out of the day. The sky was full of lowering clouds, and the air was hot and heavy. I looked quickly around, but there didn’t seem to be anyone about. I was half crouching, tense with anticipation for alarms going off and defences activating, but everything seemed calm and quiet, the peace of the evening undisturbed except by the singing of a few drowsy birds and the whickering of the unicorns in their stables. The peace didn’t fool me. The Hall and its grounds were seriously protected at all times by quite appallingly vicious scientific and magical means. All of which, it seemed, were currently utterly bewildered by the Confusulum. I straightened up and nodded slowly.

I’d come home.

"Stick close to me," I said to Molly. "The family can’t view me remotely while I wear the torc, and as long as you’re right beside me it should protect you too."

"I can protect myself," Molly said automatically. She was staring about her with wide eyes and a disbelieving smile. "Oh, Eddie, you should have told me…This place is fabulous! I mean, the size of these grounds…You could land an airplane on lawns this size! And you’ve got fountains, and your own lake…and swans! Oooh…I just love swans!"

"Me too," I said. "Delicious."

"Barbarian! Are those peacocks over there?"

"Yes. Try not to set them off. They can make more noise than the alarms."

"I always figured you guys lived well, but this is incredible. I know some landed gentry who don’t have it as good as this!"

"Welcome to my home," I said. "One day, absolutely none of this will be mine."

Molly looked at me. "Why drop us off here, so far from the Hall? Why not arrive somewhere useful, inside the house?"

"Because that would have set off alarms," I said. "Even the Confusulum couldn’t handle the kind of security my family has set up throughout the Hall. The kind of alarms primed to go off if they’re even suspicious or just have a bad dream. The defences out here are more straightforward: on/off, kill/don’t kill, that sort of thing. Child’s play for the Confusulum."

Molly grinned cheerfully. "If I’d known burgling the Hall was this easy, I’d have done it years ago."

We moved cautiously forward across the lawns, towards the house. We stayed off the gravel path, far too noisy, and we gave the peacocks plenty of room. A few sounded off, but no one in the house would give their plaintive cries any attention. Molly and I actually covered quite a distance before half a dozen robot guns rose suddenly out of the ground from their hidden silos. Big, ugly, brutal weapons, they swivelled back and forth as their fire computers struggled to target the intruders whose proximity had set them off. Molly and I stood very still while I rested one hand on the badge at my lapel. The Confusulum did its thing, and the guns swivelled jerkily back and forth, increasingly confused and upset by conflicting impulses. So in the end the stupid things decided that since they were the only things moving, they must be the intruders. And they shot the hell out of each other. Muzzles roared, bullets flew, and one by one the robot guns exploded messily in bursts of fire and smoke. None of the bullets came anywhere near Molly or me.

"So much for sneaking in," said Molly as the last echoes of gunfire died away.

"Shut up and run," I said.

We sprinted forward across the lawns. Lights were coming on inside the Hall. I had no doubt people would be crowding around their security monitors, trying to figure out what was happening. Hopefully the Confusulum would keep them guessing for a while. The robot guns had been known to malfunction before; they were one of Alistair’s ideas.

"Up ahead," said Molly. "What are those ugly-looking things?"

"Oh, shit," I said.

"I really hate it when you say that."

"Just stick really close to me, okay?"

Two of the gryphons came lumbering across the grass towards us, great lumpy things with gray scaly bodies and long, morose faces. They were the only ones who looked forward to intruders, because they got to eat them. The Confusulum had to be having some effect on them, or they would have foreseen our coming and warned the house. But this close, the simple creatures believed what their senses were telling them, no matter how confused they might feel. I waited till they were almost upon us, and then sank down onto my haunches and spoke easily to them, calm and friendly, letting them remember my voice as they got my scent. They approached me slowly, gave me a good sniff all over, and then nuzzled my hands with their soft mouths. They blinked suspiciously at Molly, but I just kept talking soothingly to them, keeping their attention on me. They sat down and leaned their great weight against me, making happy snuffling sounds.

"Those things smell really horrible," said Molly.

"Hush," I said. "You’ll hurt their feelings. They’re gryphons. Better than guard dogs because they can actually see the near future. Usually. But because they never met a piece of carrion they didn’t want to roll in, they’re never allowed inside the house. I always felt sorry for them when I was just a kid; left out here alone, in all weathers. So I used to sneak out at night and feed them bits of offal and stuff from the kitchens. It seems they remember me…"

"You soppy old softy, you," said Molly. She reached cautiously over and scratched one of the gryphons behind its long pointed ear, and it snuffled loudly in gratitude.

"Down!" I said suddenly.

Molly and I crouched down with the gryphons, just a gray silhouette in the growing dusk, while I watched the Sarjeant-at-Arms stalk out of the Hall’s main front entrance. He looked around the grounds, taking his time, but his gaze swept over Molly and me and the gryphons without slowing. Of course he wouldn’t believe the guns blowing each other up was just a malfunction. He lived to defend the Hall. More members of the family poured out of the entrance behind him, and the Sarjeant directed them this way and that with curt instructions. They swarmed around the exterior of the house, looking for signs of an attack or a break-in, while others fanned out across the grounds. A few even took off from the landing pads on the roof, in those clumsy old da Vinci helicopter chairs that the Armourer’s been trying to get the bugs out of for years. Rather them than me. They roared by overhead, spotlights stabbing down through the gathering gloom. I hadn’t expected such a dramatic response to a single incident. Presumably everyone was still on edge after the attack on the Heart. Or perhaps it was because I’d phoned and told them I was coming home…I liked to think so.

"You had to tell them you were coming," said Molly.

"The grounds defences have all been activated," I said to avoid answering her. "But as long as the Confusulum’s operating, they shouldn’t be able to lock on to us."

"Why are they all carrying weapons?" Molly said suddenly. "I thought you people mostly relied on your armour."

"Mostly, yes. But just recently there’ve been some serious attacks on the Hall. Really nasty ones. No one feels like taking chances anymore."

"Attacks?" said Molly. "By anyone I might know?"

"We don’t know who’s behind them," I said. "And if my family doesn’t know, no one knows. But that’s why they’re pulling out all the stops. The very thing I’d hoped to avoid, by sneaking in. Bloody Alistair and his stupid bloody robot guns."

"Should we leave?" said Molly. "Maybe come back some other time?"

"We don’t have the time," I said. "For better or worse, this is the only chance we’ll get. You still game?"

"Always," she said, grinning. "Let’s go start some trouble."

"Let’s," I said, grinning back at her.

We gave the gryphons a few last pats, and then pushed them firmly away and sprinted across the open lawns towards the house. In the growing dusk, we should look like just two more moving figures. If the family were bracing themselves for an attack by the kind of thing that had broken into the Sanctity, they shouldn’t be looking for merely human targets. I could feel the grounds’ defences trying to kick in: all the hidden trapdoors and deadly weapons, all the scientific and magical devices in their underground silos, but none of them could lock on to Molly or me as long as we were protected by the Confusulum. Force shields snapped on and off all around us, magical energies manifested and dispersed in a moment, and none of them could touch us. The grounds’ defences were baffled. But there were still far too many people around, too many Droods between us and the Hall. Someone would be bound to challenge us soon.

"We need a diversion," I said to Molly. "Something big and dramatic, to draw people away from the front of the house."

"No problem," said Molly, breathing just a little hard from the running. "Watch this."

She muttered under her breath and gestured sharply, and suddenly a huge dragon was hovering over the Hall. A massive creature, with a long golden-scaled body and vast, flapping membranous wings. It shrieked horribly as it descended on the Hall, a horrid horned head thrusting forward on the end of a snakelike neck. It was impossibly big, half the size of the house, and it tore great holes in the outer wall of the east wing with casual blows from its clawed hands. It breathed fire across the landing pads on the roof, sweeping away all the vehicles there in one great blast of flames. It screamed in triumph and slammed into the Hall with one great shoulder so hard that the whole building shook.

"Will that do?" said Molly.

"Where the hell did you find a dragon that size?" I said. "I am officially impressed, Molly. Honest. But that is my home, and I would rather like to have some of it left at the end of the day! Does the word overkill ring any bells with you? Are you sure you can even control it?"

"Of course," said Molly. "I once took a thorn out of its paw. Relax, Eddie, it’s not a real dragon. Just another charm off my bracelet."

"So the damage it’s doing to the Hall isn’t real either?"

Molly frowned. "Well, yes and no."

"Let’s get inside quick," I said. "Before the family works out what’s happening."

Most of the family had gone around to the back of the house by now to deal with the most obvious threat, leaving the front of the Hall undefended. Just open lawns between me and the front entrance. And then the scarecrows appeared out of nowhere, blinking in to block my way. First one, then two, and finally an even dozen. I grabbed Molly by the arm, and we skidded to a halt well short of them. They moved stiffly to take up defensive positions between us and the front entrance, their gloved hands stiff as claws. Unnaturally still, impossibly strong. Twelve scarecrows come down off their crosses, wearing battered clothes from various periods all the way back to the seventeenth century. The Drood family’s most hated enemies, made over into scarecrows to guard the Hall they’d threatened. Just because we could. The scarecrows’ faces were weather-beaten, taut, brown as parchment, and just as brittle. Tufts of straw protruded from the ears and from the mouths, but their eyes remained still alive, endlessly suffering.

"Are those the…?" said Molly.

"Yes," I said. "Someone in the Hall has panicked and let the scarecrows loose. Our fiercest enemies, defeated and put to use. Their bodies hollowed out and filled with straw while they were still alive, and then bound by unbreakable pacts to defend the Hall, to their destruction if necessary. Not dead, any of them. They couldn’t still suffer, if we let them die. If you listen in on the right supernatural frequency, you can hear them screaming."

"Oh, my God," said Molly. "That’s Laura Lye, the water elemental assassin, the one they called the Liquidator. And that’s Mad Frankie Phantasm. I always wondered what happened to them."

"No one attacks the family where we live and gets away with it," I said.

"We take that personally. And we always did like a splash of irony with our revenge. So now you know what waits for us, if we get this wrong."

"Why isn’t the Confusulum dealing with them?" said Molly.

"Good question. I think…because the scarecrows exist on the border between life and death, neither one nor the other. Their nature is already so confused the Confusulum probably couldn’t make it worse if it tried."

"Are we in trouble here?" Molly said carefully.

"Absolutely," I said. "Because of what they are, and what was done to them, the scarecrows can’t be hurt, stopped, or turned aside."

"So what do we do?"

"We take them down hard," I said. "Because in the end they’re just scarecrows, while we’re Eddie Drood and Molly Metcalf."

"Damn right," said Molly.

I armoured up, the living metal sweeping over me, and I went to meet the scarecrows as they lurched forward. The golden armour made me strong again, despite the pain stabbing through all of my left side now. I slammed into the first scarecrow and tore it apart with brute armoured force. I ripped its arms off, smashed in its chest, and then tore the head right off its shoulders and threw it away. The other scarecrows crowded around me, beating at me with their stone-hard fists, pulling at my shoulders, but even their unnatural strength was no match for my armour.

(It was never intended that they should be able to take down a Drood. We never take the chance that our own weapons might be used against us.)

They pulled at my golden legs, trying to overturn me, pressing in from all sides, but I stood firm and would not fall. I tore them apart, limb from limb, and no blood ever flowed, just more straw sticking out of ragged sockets. I ripped their hollow bodies apart, throwing the pieces this way and that. Heads rolled across the grass, the eyes still alive, still suffering and hating.

When this was over, the family would just put them back together again. No rest for those who dared to be wicked against us.

Molly took out her fair share of the scarecrows. She hit them with the four elements, all at once. Hurricane winds whipped up out of nowhere, picked up the scarecrows, threw them high into the sky, and then slammed them to the ground again. Sudden downpours targeted individual scarecrows and soaked them so heavily they could hardly move. Others burst into flames that burned so fiercely that the straw-filled bodies were consumed in seconds. And finally the earth itself cracked open, swallowed up all the scarecrows left standing, and then slammed itself together again, trapping the scarecrows underground. Molly looked around her and nodded once, satisfied.

"Damn, we’re good."

"Yes," I said. "We are."

I could have used the Confusulum to interrupt the forces that kept the scarecrows going. I could have used it to free the trapped spirits from their scarecrow bodies. But I didn’t. Because they had attacked my family where we live, and we never forgive that.

We were almost at the Hall when a voice in my ear suddenly said, Sorry! That’s it! Business calls and I have to be going! It was fun; we must do this again sometime! I looked down, and the badge on my lapel was gone. Just like that, the Confusulum had abandoned me. About to enter the centre of my family’s power, Molly and I were on our own. Which…was just typical of the way my life had been going recently. I decided not to tell Molly. It would only upset her.

I strode up to the main front entrance, pushed open the door with a flourish, and marched on into the hallway beyond. Molly couldn’t wait to get in, actually pushing past me in her eagerness. I shut the door carefully behind us, and the background roar of my family fighting the dragon was immediately shut off. Inside the house, everything was quiet and peaceful, just like always. The slow ticking of old clocks; the smell of beeswax and polish and dust. Home. And then the Sarjeant-at-Arms stepped out of his security alcove to confront me, and I remembered why I’d been so happy to leave in the first place. He stood solidly before me, blocking my way, stiff and formal as always in his old-fashioned butler’s outfit. The man who had always been so much more than just a butler. I stood very still. I was still wearing my armour. I looked like any other Drood. There was a chance…

"I know it’s you, Edwin," said the Sarjeant. "I recognise the way you move. You always were sloppy, undisciplined. When the defences in the ground couldn’t lock on to anyone, I knew it had to be you. Always the lateral thinker, the sneak, skulking in the shadows. And your companion is the infamous Molly Metcalf? Didn’t take you long to fall into bad company. I always knew you were no good, Edwin. Even when you were just a boy."

I armoured down to face him. I wanted him to be able to see my face. "I haven’t been a boy for a long time, Sarjeant. I’m not afraid of you anymore. You see this man, Molly? He made my life miserable when I was a child. He made all our lives miserable. Nothing we did as children was ever good enough for him. You see, all adult members of the family can override the collars of the children. So they can discipline us, control us…Punish us. We’re a very old family, very old-fashioned, and we never did believe in sparing the rod. And this man…loved to punish children. For any reason, or none. Just because he could. We all lived in fear of the Sarjeant-at-Arms when we were kids."

"It was for your own good," the Sarjeant said calmly. "You had to learn. And you were always so very slow to learn, Edwin."

I armoured up again and held up my fist. Golden spikes rose up out of the heavy knuckles. "Step aside, Sarjeant. I’m not going to be stopped this time."

"It’s not too late," said the Sarjeant. "You could still surrender. Submit to family discipline. Make atonement for your crimes."

"I never committed any crimes! Never! But the family has."

The Sarjeant sighed. "You never listen, and you never learn. Lose your armour, Edwin. Or I’ll make your companion suffer."

He pulled weapons out of the air. His singular talent, given to him so that he could protect the Hall. A gun appeared in one hand, a flamethrower in the other. He aimed them at Molly, and I lunged forward to protect her. Bullets hammered against my armoured chest and ricocheted away, but the flames swept right past me to threaten Molly…only to turn aside at the last moment, deflected by Molly’s magic. She jabbed out a hand at the Sarjeant, and he staggered backwards from the unseen impact. Molly laughed at him.

"My companion can look after herself," I said to the Sarjeant.

"Damn right," said Molly.

The Sarjeant started to subvocalise the Words that would call up his armour. He should have done that the moment he recognised me, but in his pride he still saw me as a child to be chastised. But even as he started the Words, Molly hit him with a rain of rats. They fell on him out of nowhere, streams of big black rats swarming all over him, clawing and biting. He cried out in shock and pain, slapping at the rats and trying to shake them off, unable to concentrate long enough to say the Words that would have brought up his armour to protect him. He staggered back and forth, beating at the rats with his bare hands. One sank its teeth deep into his palm and hung there, kicking and wriggling as he tried in vain to shake it off. Another ripped at his ear. Blood ran down his face as they tore open his scalp.

I would have liked to stand around for a while and watch him suffer, but I didn’t have the time. So I stepped forward and punched him out. The strength behind the golden fist almost took his head off, and he crashed to the floor, barely twitching. Molly disappeared the rats with a gesture. I stood over the Sarjeant-at-Arms, looking down at him, and it felt good, so good, to have finally avenged myself for years of pain and scorn. Now he didn’t look nearly as big as I remembered him. He was still conscious, just.

"How many children did you whip for running in the hallways?" I said. "How many did you flog for being late or not being where they should be? For answering back? For daring to have minds and hopes and dreams of their own?"

The Sarjeant stirred painfully, blood running out the corner of his torn mouth as he smiled. "It’s a hard world, boy. Had to toughen you up so you could survive it. You learned your lessons well, Edwin. Proud of you, boy."

"We were just children!" I said, but he was unconscious and couldn’t hear me anymore.

"Your family do love their mind games, don’t they?" said Molly.

"Not now, " I said. "Please."

I stepped into the Sarjeant’s security alcove and opened the emergency alarms locker. It was keyed to open to anyone wearing a torc. I looked at all the switches set out before me, grinned, and then hit every single one of them. Interior alarms, exterior alarms, fire, flood, witchcraft, and Luddites. (Some of our alarms go way back.) Bells and sirens went off throughout the Hall, ringing and howling and clanging in an ungodly cacophony of noise. Lights flared and flashed, emergency doors slammed shut, steel grilles came crashing down, and members of the family ran wildly this way and that, driven mad by the whooping alarms. I always said we needed more emergency drills.

I walked confidently through the hallways and corridors with Molly at my side. People rushed by, shouting and gesturing, but none of them paid me any attention. To them I was just another Drood, anonymous in my armour. And if Molly was with me, well, then she must be just another authorised guest. In an emergency, people have time to see only what they expect to see.

I led Molly deeper into the Hall, and she oohed and aahed as she took in all the luxurious furnishings, the portraits and paintings, the statues and works of art, and all the other marvellous loot my family has acquired down the centuries. I grew up with it all, so I still mostly took it for granted, and I had to smile as Molly went ecstatic and rapturous over this rare piece or that. I actually had to drag her away from a few things she wanted to examine more closely. We had to keep moving; time was not on our side. Molly pouted rebelliously, but she understood.

"Colour me majorly impressed," she said. "I’d heard stories about this place, but…I had no idea. There are things here they haven’t even got in museums! Paintings by major artists that aren’t in any of the catalogues! So many beautiful things…and probably wasted on you, you philistine. No wonder Sebastian had such excellent taste…I’m not leaving here without stuffing a few things in a bag."

"Later," I said. "We have to get to the Armoury."

"Why?"

"Because there’s something there I need. Something I can use to bring the house down."

The Armoury should have been closed, shut down, sealed and guarded, according to the emergency protocols. I’d half expected to have to fight my way through armed guards and force the blast-proof doors open with my armoured strength. Or have Molly use her magics. But in the end the heavy doors stood wide open, entirely unguarded, which was…unheard of. I edged over to the blast-proof doors and peered cautiously through into the Armoury. It gave every indication of being deserted. I insisted on going in first, and Molly made her disapproval clear by crowding close behind, almost stepping on my heels.

The cellars were deserted, all the workstations shut down. The quiet was eerie. None of the usual fires or explosions or sudden surprised cursings. One man was waiting for us, sitting at ease in his favourite chair right in the middle of everything. He watched, smiling wryly, as Molly and I cautiously approached him. A tall middle-aged man with a bald pate and tufty white eyebrows, wearing a stained white lab coat over a T-shirt bearing the legend Guns Don’t Kill People—Unless You Aim Them Properly. The Armourer. My uncle Jack. I should have known he would stand his ground when everyone else had fled.

"Hello, Eddie," he said calmly. "I’ve been expecting you."

He held up something in his right hand. A simple clicker in the shape of a small green frog. He snapped it once, and my armour went back into my collar, just like that. I gaped at the Armourer, shocked speechless, and he laughed softly.

"Just a little toy I put together long ago and kept for myself. After all, you never know when it might come in handy…When I heard all the alarms go off at once, I knew it had to be you, Eddie. You always did have a taste for the dramatic. Why did you come back? You know it’s death for you to be here, now you’re rogue. And why have you brought one of your oldest enemies into the most confidential part of the Hall?"

"I’m not sure who the enemy really is anymore, Uncle Jack," I said.

"You know Molly Metcalf?"

"Of course I know who she is, boy. I know all the names that matter. I was an agent in the field for twenty years, and I still leaf through all the reports. How else would I know what to design for agents today? What is the infamous Molly Metcalf doing here, Eddie?"

"Why does everyone keep using that word?" said Molly. "I am not infamous!"

"She’s with me," I said.

The Armourer smiled suddenly. "Oh, it’s like that, is it? Well, it’s about time." He grinned charmingly at Molly. "Delighted to meet you, my dear. I’m afraid I only know you by reputation, and quite a fearsome reputation it is."

"I earned it," said Molly. "Though I’ve always preferred to think of myself as a fun person."

"Did you really turn the whole Berkshire Hunt into foxes for forty-eight hours?"

"Of course," said Molly. "I thought it might give them a little insight."

"Good for you, girl," said the Armourer. "Never did approve of foxhunting. Barbarous sport, mostly followed these days by inbred aristos and nouveau riche arriviste arseholes. So, Eddie…you finally brought a girlfriend home to meet the family. I was beginning to worry about you."

"She is not my…well…" I said. "We’re still working on what we are."

"Right," said Molly. "It’s…complicated."

"How do you feel about him, Molly?" said the Armourer, leaning forward.

"I’m fond of him," she said thoughtfully. "Like a big shaggy dog that no one wants, that’s come in out of the rain, and you haven’t the heart to drive out again."

The Armourer winked at me. "She’s crazy about you, kid."

"Woof woof," I said.

"Now then, lad," said the Armourer, briskly back to business. "What the hell are you doing here? And whatever possessed you to phone ahead? The Matriarch went mad. She’s been beside herself, issuing orders for you to be killed on sight. I’m committing treason against the family just for talking to you like this." He sniffed loudly. "Like that’s going to stop me. I’ve never needed someone else to tell me what’s in the family’s best interests. If you ask me, Mother’s not all there, these days. But even so, you can’t expect me to actually assist you in…whatever you came here for. You should never have come back, Eddie. What did you think you’d find here, for God’s sake?"

"Armourer," I said, "I came here looking for the truth. Just like you always taught me, Uncle Jack."

He sighed heavily and clicked his green frog again. "Oh, all right; there’s your armour back again. I just know I’m going to regret this…I always was too softhearted for my own good. Why did you come down here, Eddie? What do you want from me?"

"I need to discover the real reason why I was made rogue," I said slowly. "I was never a traitor to the family, Uncle Jack. You know that."

"Yes," the Armourer admitted. "I know that. Anyone else I might have believed, but not you, Eddie. You were always so honest and open about your doubts…I couldn’t believe it when they told me. Wouldn’t believe it, till they told me to shut up and do as I was told. Something’s happening in the family, Eddie, that I don’t understand. Factions, infighting, deep divisions over arguments I can’t even follow…And now different parts of the family are actually keeping secrets from each other. I’m being deliberately kept out of the loop, as well, and that’s never happened before. Mother would never have permitted it…She always used to trust my judgement. But things have changed dramatically in the years since you left, Eddie, and not for the better. Do I really need to tell you that stepping down as Armourer in favour of dear little Alexandra wasn’t my idea? Thought not."

"I need your help, Uncle Jack," I said. "I need you to trust me."

"I’m really not going to like this, am I?" He rose to his feet and clapped me on the shoulder. "You’ll probably do less damage if I help you. Look, if you want answers, you need the library. Everything’s in there, somewhere." He fished a key ring out of his pocket, and took off one small key. He handed it to me. "The library will have gone into automatic shutdown once the alarms started, but that key will open all the doors for you. Take good care of that key, Eddie; I want it back. Now get the hell out of here before someone comes in and catches me talking to you."

"Thanks for the key," I said. "But I need something else from you."

"Oh, yes; of course! Molly’s a delightful young lady, Eddie. You have my blessing."

"Not that! Well, thanks for that, but…I need something from the armoury. To be exact, I need something from the Armageddon Codex."

The Armourer stopped smiling. "You want me to give you one of the forbidden weapons?"

"Yes. I need Oath Breaker."

He looked at me for a long moment, and his gaze was very cold.

"Why in the name of the good God would you want that awful thing?"

"There’s something rotten at the heart of the family," I said, meeting his gaze steadily. "You know that as well as I do. I need the one weapon no member of the family can hope to stand against. The one weapon they won’t even think of challenging. It’s the only way I can be sure of avoiding bloodshed, Uncle Jack."

"No, boy," the Armourer said flatly. "You’re asking too much."

"He has to," said Molly. "He doesn’t have time to be subtle. He was shot with an arrow made of strange matter. It’s still in his system, poisoning him."

The Armourer looked at me sharply. "Is this true, Eddie?"

I nodded stiffly. "Punched right through my armour. I thought I’d healed the wound with a med blob, but the strange matter’s still in me. And it’s spreading."

"Dear God…How long have you got, Eddie?"

"Three days," I said. "Maybe less."

"Oh, my dear boy…I heard about the arrow, but I never knew…Strange matter. Cursed stuff. I destroyed the only samples I had. Let me call up some old notes, see what I can do…There must be something I can do…"

"I don’t have the time, Uncle Jack," I said. "That’s why I have to do this quickly, and that’s why I need Oath Breaker. You have my word I won’t do anything with it that would hurt the family."

"I don’t know…" said the Armourer.

"I do," said a harsh, cold, and very familiar voice behind me. "You get nothing, traitor, except what’s coming to you."

We all looked around, and there stood Alexandra, tall and proud as ever. She was dressed all in black and carrying something awful in her hands. Molly started towards her, and I grabbed her arm and held her back. The Armourer grabbed her other arm.

"Don’t move, Molly," he said quietly. "She’s holding one of our most dangerous weapons. She’s holding Torc Cutter."

"What the hell’s that?" said Molly, but she didn’t try to fight us.

"Just what it sounds like," I said. "Hello, Alexandra. You’re looking…very yourself. What are you doing with Torc Cutter?"

"I took it out of the security locker just for you, Eddie," she said. Her voice was almost teasing, but she wasn’t smiling, and her eyes were very cold. "Time’s up, Eddie. Game over."

"Would someone please tell me why everyone’s acting so dramatic?" said Molly.

"The shears she’s holding are the only thing that can sever a Drood’s torc," the Armourer said. "It breaks the lifelong connection between a Drood and his armour. The operation is always fatal. Torc Cutter is a very ancient weapon, older than family history. It’s only ever supposed to be used as a last resort, to bring down a rogue who threatens the whole family, when all else has failed. It hasn’t been used in centuries."

"They look like gardening shears," said Molly, and she had a point. The shears were made of black iron, not steel, and looked like what they were: a simple cutting tool. Bleak and functional, but to the eyes of any Drood they were ugly with vicious significance. One of the few things absolutely guaranteed to kill a Drood. I stood very still and made sure Molly did too. Alexandra wouldn’t hesitate to use Torc Cutter. It occurred to me that I wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t already used them. I would have. Perhaps…there was just a chance that part of her wanted me to talk her out of using them. We had been close, once.

"Don’t do this, Alex," I said carefully. "You know this is all bullshit. You know I could never be a traitor. You were the one who knew me best of all, once."

"I thought I did," she said. "But then you went away, and you didn’t take me with you."

"I did ask," I said.

"You knew I couldn’t go! I had to make a new life for myself here at the Hall. A life in which I have become very powerful, Eddie. And you are most definitely a traitor, to the true spirit of the family. You’re a threat to the family’s future, Eddie. And I can’t, I won’t allow that."

She stepped forward, raising Torc Cutter, and the Armourer snapped out a single Word. The ugly black shears jumped right out of Alexandra’s hands and into the Armourer’s. She looked at him with something like shock as he stuffed the shears carelessly into his coat pocket, smiling smugly.

"I put a Safe Word into everything that passes through my lab, just in case they should fall into the wrong hands. And all the most deadly weapons have passed through the Armoury just recently, thanks to the Matriarch’s instructions. Mother always was a little paranoid, and luckily she passed a healthy dose of it on to her children." He then took a needle gun out of his other pocket and shot Alexandra in the throat. She just had time to slap a hand to her neck, and then she crumpled to the floor, out like a light. The Armourer blew imaginary smoke off the barrel of his gun, and then put it away again. "I always keep that handy for when my lab assistants get a bit overexcited. She’ll sleep for an hour or so. Put her somewhere comfortable, Eddie, while I go get the key for the Codex."

"Then you’ll help me?" I said.

"Yes. I won’t let you die with a traitor’s name hanging over you, Eddie. I can do that much for you. Besides, if Alexandra’s running around armed with Torc Cutter, God alone knows what else is out there. You’re going to need Oath Breaker."

"I promise I’ll return it safely," I said.

"Too bloody right you will," said the Armourer. "Don’t make me come after you, Eddie. I know some dirty tricks you never dreamed of in all your years in the field."

"I always wondered why your old files were blocked," I said.

Molly and I propped Alexandra up in a corner. She muttered querulously in her sleep, but that was all. Molly looked down at her.

"Would she really have killed you with that thing?"

"Probably," I said.

"Want me to kick her while she’s down?"

"No. I don’t do that."

"Wimp." She looked at me consideringly. "So, this Alexandra was once an old flame of yours?"

"A long time ago," I said. "When we were both a lot younger. She wasn’t always like this, you know. You’re not jealous, are you?"

"Me? No! Why would I be jealous? I’ve had lots of boyfriends in my time. Dozens!"

"They probably didn’t appreciate you like I do," I said.

The family keeps the Armageddon Codex in a pocket dimension for extra security. Only the Armourer and his designated successor can even approach it, let alone access it. The Codex contains the family’s most powerful weapons, too dangerous to be used unless reality itself is under threat. Normally you have to fill out reams of paperwork before you’re even allowed to approach the Matriarch with a request. The Armourer was trusting me a lot, to let me take Oath Breaker. He wouldn’t do that, for all his sympathy, unless he was already convinced that there was something seriously wrong with the family.

To get to the Armageddon Codex, you have to pass through the Lion’s Jaws. At the very back of what used to be the old wine cellars, before they were converted into the present armoury, there is a giant stone carving of a lion’s head, complete with mane. Perfect in every detail, twenty feet tall and almost as wide, carved out of the dark blue-veined stone that makes up the cellar’s furthest reaches. The lion’s eyes seem to glare, the mouth seems to snarl, and the whole thing looks like life itself frozen in stone. As though just waiting to pounce, if it could only force the rest of its body through the stone wall that held it. Not all that surprisingly, Molly fell in love with it at first sight and stood right before the stone face, running her hands over the detailed carving and cooing delightedly.

The Armourer stepped up to the lion’s snarling mouth and slipped a long brass key into a hole in the mouth that I couldn’t even see. He turned the key twice, subvocalising a whole series of Words, and then withdrew the key and stepped smartly back as the Lion’s Jaws grated slowly open. The upper lip rose steadily, operated by some hidden mechanism, revealing huge jagged teeth, above and below. The jaws continued to open, until the lion’s mouth gaped wide, revealing a tunnel big enough to walk through without having to duck your head. The throat of the lion, which led to the Armageddon Codex.

"Is it…alive?" Molly murmured.

"We don’t think so, but no one knows for sure," I said. "It’s as old as the house. Maybe older. The family might have made it, or just made use of it. Legend has it that if you pass through the Lion’s Jaws, you must be pure of heart and pure of purpose, or the jaws will close on you."

"And then?" said Molly.

"Have you never seen anyone eaten by a stone head?" said the Armourer.

"I did, once," I said. "I was down in Cornwall—"

"I was speaking rhetorically!" snapped the Armourer. "I’m sorry, Molly, my dear; he always was terribly literal, even as a child."

"You mean it really does eat people?" said Molly. "If they’re not…pure in heart?"

"Oh, yes," I said.

"Think I’ll wait out here," said Molly.

"Relax," said the Armourer. "It’s just a story we tell the children to stop them from messing around with the jaws. The crafty little buggers are always getting into things they’re not supposed to. Trust me, Molly; you’ll be perfectly safe as long as you’re with us. Just as well, really. I haven’t been pure in heart since I was ten years old, with my first erection."

He waggled his bushy eyebrows at her, and Molly smiled dutifully. She still stood very close to me as we followed the Armourer through the Lion’s Jaws and down its throat into the Armageddon Codex. Which turned out to be just another stone cavern but with terrible weapons hanging in rows upon the stone walls, like ornaments in Hell. Some hung on plaques; others stood in special niches carved from the bare stone. None of them were identified; either you knew what they were and what they could do, or you had no business touching them. I knew some of the weapons by sight and reputation from my extensive reading in the library.

There was Sunwrack, for putting out the stars one at a time. Beside it was the Juggernaut Jumpsuit. And there, the Time Hammer, for changing the past through brute force.

The Armourer noted me studying the hammer and nodded quickly. "Studying that gave me the idea for the reverse watch I gave you, Eddie. A lot of thought went into that. I hope you’re taking good care of it."

I just nodded absently, still fascinated by the terrible weapons arrayed before me, things I’d never dreamed I might someday see in person. There was Winter’s Sorrow, a simple crystal ball full of swirling snowflakes. It might have been a paperweight or a child’s toy. But all you had to do was break the crystal, and it would unleash the Fimbulwinter: an endless season of cold and ice, all across the world, forever and ever and ever. Molly reached out a hand to touch it, saying, "Oh, cute!" And the Armourer and I both yelled at her and dragged her away. We sent her back to stand at the entrance, and she went, sulking. And then, finally, there was Oath Breaker.

It wasn’t much to look at. Just a long stick of ironwood deeply carved with prehuman symbols. An ancient weapon, older than Torc Cutter, older than family history. Older than the family, probably. We have no idea who created it, or why. Perhaps they used it, and that’s why there’s no record of them anywhere. The Armourer finally reached out with a steady hand, and took the stick down. He grimaced, as though just the touch of it was disturbing to him. He hefted it in his hand once, and then turned abruptly and gave it to me. I accepted it gingerly. It felt…heavy, weighed down with spiritual weight rather than physical. A burden to the body and to the soul.

Because of what it was, and what it could do.

"But…it’s just a stick," said Molly. She’d sneaked forward to join us again. "Is that it? I mean, is that all of it? Does it change into something else if you strike it on the ground? Or do you just plan to beat people over the head with it?"

"This is Oath Breaker," I said. My mouth was very dry, even while my hands were sweating. "It undoes all agreements, all bonds. Right down to the atomic level, if necessary."

"All right," said Molly. "Now you’re scaring me."

"Good," I said. "Because it scares the crap out of me. Armourer, give Molly Torc Cutter. Just in case."

"Go to the library," said the Armourer. "And learn what you need to know. I’ll keep an eye on Alexandra. But don’t take too long, Eddie. Those alarms and excursions you set off won’t fool people for long."

"I know, Uncle Jack."

"The family…isn’t what it was, Eddie. Part of me…wishes I could go with you when you leave. But someone has to stay and fight for the soul of the family. For the sake of the Droods, and the world."