When Your Back’s Against the Wall, When Everything Looks Lost, Find Someone to Take It Out On
It wasn’t my family’s Armoury, but it looked enough like the one I knew to send a chill down my spine. The same long series of stone cellars, with colour-coded wiring tacked haphazardly to the walls. But here the workstations were abandoned, the firing ranges were empty, and wreckage and rubble lay everywhere. The Armourer and his white-coated lab assistants, who should have been running wild with out-of-control experiments and weapons that endangered the lives of everyone around them, were gone—long gone. Slaughtered by the Droods’ many enemies, after my other self shut down the Hall’s protections and sabotaged its defences. The Armoury was still and silent now, its many wonders trashed or looted. Like some ancient burial chamber despoiled by grave-robbers who could never hope to appreciate the treasures they carried away or left trampled underfoot.
The only sounds disturbing the graveyard quiet came from Molly. Her language started out bad and quickly escalated, as she swept her hands back and forth through the empty space where the dimensional gateway had been just a few moments before. She was trying to find some trace of it with her magics, so she could call it back and force it open, but she wasn’t getting anywhere.
“Molly,” I said thoughtfully.
“What? I’m busy!”
“Look what’s back.”
She turned around, and there was Alpha Red Alpha, towering over us. The great dimensional engine itself. Molly glared at it.
“That wasn’t there a moment ago.”
“I know.”
“So what was it doing? Hiding from us?”
I shrugged. “That’s Alpha Red Alpha for you.”
I looked carefully at the massive and never fully understood mechanism, designed to be the Droods’ last line of defence. So that if the Hall ever found itself faced with a threat that couldn’t be stopped, the engine would translate the whole building into another dimension, another earth, where it could safely remain until the threat was over and the Hall could be brought back again.
Either the family here never got a chance to use it, or Edmund did something to it.
Alpha Red Alpha: a gigantic hour-glass shape immersed inside a frozen waterfall of gleaming crystal, shot through with sprawling circuits, like ragged veins. It was hard to make sense of, hard even to look at, as though it existed in more than three dimensions . . . And if there were any controls, I couldn’t make them out. Only my uncle Jack, when he was Armourer, really understood Alpha Red Alpha.
“Can your magics get us home, Molly?” I said. I was pretty sure I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear her say it.
“Not a hope in hell!” Molly scowled at Alpha Red Alpha as though she was seriously considering giving it a good kicking, just on general principle. “I don’t even know where home is from here! You can’t navigate all the different Earths and all their different histories without being really sure of the exact Space/Time coordinates involved.”
“And there’s no trace left of the dimensional Door we came through?”
“No.” Molly’s shoulders slumped, and she suddenly looked tired and worn-down. We’d put a lot of effort into chasing Edmund, and it was catching up with both of us. “Edmund must have locked the Door from his side, using the other Alpha Red Alpha.” She looked at me sharply. “If he’s smart enough to operate it, why can’t you?”
“Because he’s spent ages learning how to work it,” I said.
“If he could figure it out . . .”
“I don’t have enough time,” I said.
Molly nodded reluctantly. “Does this machine look the same to you as the one in our world?”
“Hard to tell,” I said. “Just looking at the damn thing hurts my eyes. It’s . . . different, but I couldn’t tell you how. I am sure it wasn’t standing here the last time we visited this Armoury.”
“Edmund must have moved it,” said Molly. “So he could set his trap.”
“How?” I said. “Look at the size of it! You couldn’t shift something this big with a power loader and a stick of dynamite!”
“I don’t know,” said Molly. “And don’t you snap at me, Eddie Drood! Edmund’s just another version of you, which means really this is all your fault!”
“Somehow I knew it would be,” I said.
We shared a quick smile, and went back to studying the dimensional engine. It stared silently back at us, giving away nothing.
“Edmund must have been coming and going between the two Earths for some time,” I said. “But how could he have used my Hall’s Alpha Red Alpha without the Armourer or his staff noticing?”
“That still leaves the Merlin Glass,” said Molly.
“Without my noticing?” I said. Molly started to bristle again, and I realised we were dangerously close to another argument we couldn’t afford, so I changed the subject. “We have to get back to our world, Molly. My whole family is in danger from Edmund as long as he’s running around our Hall, unsuspected.”
Molly leaned in suddenly and kissed me.
“What was that for?” I said.
“Because that is just so typical of you, Eddie—thinking of others, instead of yourself. We have to get back because you’re running out of time.”
“Trust me,” I said. “I hadn’t forgotten.”
“Any chance there might be a manual for Alpha Red Alpha in the Library?” said Molly.
“Unlikely,” I said. “My uncle Jack was the only one who ever had any control over the machine. Max and Victoria like to say they do, now they’re Armourer, but that always sounded like whistling in the dark to me. They’re probably still trying to make sense of whatever notes Jack left behind. And he only ever partly understood how the damn thing operates, anyway.”
Molly looked at me sharply. “How can your people not understand how it works, when you invented it?”
“Alpha Red Alpha was reverse-engineered from alien tech,” I said patiently. “Like most Drood weapons and devices. That’s why we’re always a step ahead of everyone else.”
“I thought it was because you had the best scientific brains!”
“We do,” I said. “That’s how we’re able to reverse-engineer alien tech so successfully. We have come up with some amazing things on our own; science and the supernatural are our playthings. But we are all of us standing on the shoulders of giants. Sometimes alien giants.”
“Hold it,” said Molly. “I thought Black Heir was in charge of clearing up after alien incursions and salvaging all the tech that gets left behind?”
“It is,” I said. “But Black Heir answers to my family. It makes sure we always get the good stuff. And, in return, we keep everyone else off its back.”
“How does any of this help us now?” said Molly.
“It doesn’t,” I said. “But it has given me an idea . . .” I armoured up my right hand and extended it towards the dimensional engine. “You know how I use my armour to hack computers and make them do what I want? I’m hoping I might be able to do the same with Alpha Red Alpha. Enough to get us back home, at least.”
“Go for it,” said Molly. “I stand ready to applaud, jump up and down, and whoop with joy.”
Golden tendrils eased out from my fingertips, only to stop well short of the machine’s crystalline surface. They wavered uncertainly on the air and then snapped back into my glove. I looked at my hand, and even shook it a few times, as though that might persuade the armour to cooperate, but nothing happened. I let the golden strange matter disappear back into the torc around my throat.
“Okay,” said Molly. “What just happened there?”
“Apparently, Alpha Red Alpha is so . . . different, my armour couldn’t make any sense of it,” I said slowly. “In fact, if I didn’t know better—and I’m not sure that I do—I’d say my armour was afraid of it.”
“Your torc has picked one hell of a time to have performance issues,” said Molly. “So, there’s nothing we can do? We’re trapped here?”
“Lost and alone, in a world without Droods,” I said.
She sniffed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
We each managed a small smile.
“I refuse to give up,” said Molly. “It’s not in my nature. What else can we do?”
“First,” I said, “we go exploring. Take a walk through the Hall and get a good look at where we are and what we’ve got to work with. There might be something we can use to get us home.”
“Hark!” said Molly, cupping one hand to her ear. “Is that the sound of whistling in the dark I just heard? Eddie, we need to get the hell out of here, and make our way to the Nightside! You can get anywhere from the Nightside.”
“That’s assuming this world has one,” I said.
“Every world has a Nightside,” said Molly.
“Now, there’s a horrifying thought,” I said. “But even so, it could be very different from the one we know.”
“The whole point of the long night is that you can find anything there,” Molly said briskly. “Particularly if it’s something the rest of the world doesn’t approve of.” She paused and looked at me seriously. “How are you feeling, Eddie?”
I knew what she was really asking: How much time did I think I had left? And how much longer would I still be able to fight my corner?
“I’m angry enough to keep going,” I said steadily. “Edmund screwed up. He should have killed me immediately. In fact, I have to wonder why he didn’t.”
“Because he couldn’t,” said Molly. “You’re a better fighter than him, and he’s always known it. That’s why he poisoned you and ran away.”
“I will get us home,” I said. “And I will find him and make him pay. Whatever it takes.”
“That’s more like it,” said Molly. “That’s my Eddie.”
She hugged me hard, and I let her do it. Because it was important for one of us to have faith in me.
* * *
After a while, we moved off through the unfamiliar Armoury. It didn’t take long to confirm what I’d already suspected—the whole place had been picked clean. Not a weapon or useful device to be found anywhere. Everything was covered in thick layers of dust, from the smashed and abandoned computer stations to the deserted weapons galleries. Tangled wiring hung down from the walls in thick clumps, as though someone had tried to tear it down. Walking through the silent Armoury was like moving through a tomb: a place of the dead, abandoned to Time. Where only the past had any meaning.
“There’s really nothing left,” I said finally. “My family is just history here.”
“Hold it together, Eddie,” said Molly. “There’s still work to be done.”
Everything looked much as I remembered it from my last visit. There were gaps everywhere from where things had been taken, but no signs of actual fighting. The war had been lost up above, in the Hall, where the Droods made their final stand and were slaughtered, to the last man, woman, and child . . . Afterwards, the triumphant killers went storming through the Hall, looking for loot, and finally ended up down here. I hoped the Armourer was dead before that happened. He would have hated to see what the barbarians had done.
“Could there be . . . hidden caches somewhere?” Molly said hopefully. “Weapons or other things that only the Armourer would know about?”
“Just the Armageddon Codex,” I said. “And according to the recorded message I triggered the last time I was here, the Armourer found time to seal the Forbidden Weapons inside the Lion’s Jaws, so the enemy couldn’t get to them.”
And then I stopped, and thought for a moment. This family’s Armourer had been my uncle James, not Uncle Jack. Here, Jack had been the famous field agent, while James had stayed home to be Armourer.
“You’re scowling,” Molly said accusingly. “Which is rarely a good sign. What are you worrying about now? Is this some new problem, and if so is it something I can hit?”
“This family’s Armourer left a message for me in the Lion’s Jaws,” I said. “Remember?”
“I was here with you,” said Molly. “There is nothing wrong with my memory.”
“I was just wondering if there might be another message,” I said.
“Worth a try, I suppose,” said Molly. “Where are the Jaws?”
“I’m surprised you don’t remember,” I said.
“Don’t push your luck, Drood.”
* * *
The Lion’s Jaws were in the exact same place as in my Hall: right at the back of the Armoury. A massive carving of a lion’s snarling head, complete with mane, perfect in every detail. It had been fashioned out of rough, dark stone, and wasn’t stylised in any way. It looked like the real thing, only twenty feet tall and almost as wide. I stood before it, looking steadily into the Lion’s angry gaze. Molly stuck close beside me, scowling unhappily and just a bit warily into its eyes. Which was a perfectly normal reaction for any sane person. The Lion’s Jaws don’t just look dangerous.
“I have to wonder,” I said, “whether this might have been carved from life. Very big life.”
“Maybe we should look around for a really big wardrobe,” said Molly.
“Don’t even go there,” I said.
The eyes gleamed, and the snarling jaws seemed only a moment away from lunging forward to snap my face off. The Lion’s Jaws were created to give access to the pocket dimension where my family stored their most powerful and dangerous weapons, the kind you use when you need to destroy a whole army of monstrous invaders from another dimension. The Forbidden Weapons, for when reality itself is under threat. To open the gateway, you had to place your hand between the stone teeth. And if you weren’t a Drood in good standing, and your heart wasn’t pure, the Jaws would bite your hand right off. (The pure-at-heart bit was supposed to be just a legend, to scare away people with no good reason to be troubling the Jaws, but with my family you never knew.) The last time I’d been here, just my touch had been enough to trigger a recorded message from the Armourer James. A warning—and a last plea for revenge on those who’d destroyed the Droods.
I took a deep breath, and laid my hand flat on the great stone mane. Nothing happened. The old message was gone. Which meant the only thing left to try was putting my hand inside the Jaws. Even in my Hall, in my Armoury, I would have hesitated, but here . . . I wasn’t even sure these Jaws would recognise me as a Drood. Armouring up wouldn’t help, because these Jaws wouldn’t be expecting Ethel’s strange-matter armour. So I flexed my fingers a few times, breathed steadily until I was as calm as I was going to be, and then thrust my bare hand into the snarling mouth. My heart hammered as I fought to hold my hand steady, but the Jaws didn’t move . . . and there was no second message. I snatched my hand out and stepped back.
“Nothing?” said Molly.
“I wouldn’t say that,” I said. “Something really unpleasant very nearly happened in my trousers. But no message.”
“You’re the one with the excellent memory,” said Molly. “Was there anything in the first message that might prove useful to us now?”
“Not really,” I said. “Though it did reveal some interesting differences between this family and mine. They still had a Heart, to provide their torcs and armour. Their Matriarch was Penelope, and the Armourer James said he destroyed the key to the Lion’s Jaws, so at least we can be sure the Armageddon Codex is secure.”
Molly looked dubiously at the Jaws. “What if someone tries to force them open?”
“It would be the last thing they ever tried,” I said. “Let’s get out of here. This whole place feels like someone is dancing on my grave.”
* * *
Molly had to conjure up a glowing sphere to lead us up the long flight of stairs to the ground floor. We needed the eerie green light to push back the darkness, because none of the lights were working. The thick layer of dust on the stone steps made it clear no one had been this way in a long time. Our footsteps sounded loud in the quiet, as though warning we were coming. The trapdoor at the top was still lying open, just as I’d left it the last time I was here. I frowned as I emerged cautiously and then hauled Molly up into the dimly lit room. The great open space looked just the same. Nothing had been touched, all the rubble and destruction left exactly as it was. Bright sunlight slanted through the shattered window, thick with curling dust. Molly dismissed her conjure light and looked quickly around her, but we were completely alone.
“Why has no one moved in?” I said, speaking loudly to show I wasn’t intimidated by the setting or the hush. “I’d have thought someone would have taken possession of the Hall by now, if only for bragging rights.”
“Maybe everyone thinks the place is haunted,” said Molly. “Droods are dangerous enough when they’re alive . . . And there’s always the chance they didn’t get everyone. The Hall could have been deliberately left empty, to draw back any Drood who wasn’t here when the hammer came down. Bait in a trap. Just another really good reason why we should forget the sight-seeing and get the hell out of here.”
“I can’t help thinking Edmund marooned us here for a reason,” I said.
“He dumped us here because this is the only other Hall he had access to,” said Molly. “And, anyway, what better place to leave you than a world where everyone wants to kill Droods? I mean, more than usually.”
“I need to know more about this Hall,” I said. “I need to know why this version of my family had to die.”
“Of course you do,” said Molly.
* * *
We went wandering through deserted rooms and empty corridors, stepping carefully around and over the wreckage and piled-up rubble. The walls were pocked with bullet-holes, and showed signs of bombs and incendiaries. No bloodstains. The Droods died in their armour, fighting till the last. As we moved on, it became clear the whole building had been stripped clean. The accumulated loot and tribute of centuries was gone; every priceless statue and painting, every piece of antique furniture, and all our trophies. Every bit of Drood history and every precious thing I remembered . . . gone. Nothing remained to show my family had ever been here.
It felt like someone had stolen my life and pissed on my heritage.
“I never liked living here,” I said finally. “Ran away to London first chance I got . . . and only came back when I was forced to. But I still hate to see the Hall looking like this. Like the king of the beasts dragged down by jackals.”
“Can’t say it bothers me,” said Molly. “A Hall without Droods actually feels safer, like a predator whose teeth have been pulled.”
“Thank you, Little Miss Tact.”
“Don’t get maudlin on me, Eddie. This isn’t your Hall, and it wasn’t your family. Hell, if Edmund’s anything to go by, you should be grateful you never knew them.”
“They were still Droods,” I said.
I stopped in the middle of a large, airy meeting place, where my family liked to sit and drink tea first thing in the morning. To read the world’s newspapers and discuss the day’s events, before setting about our various business. A civilised way to start the day. I looked around slowly, half expecting to see ghostly figures with familiar faces . . . And then I frowned.
“Oh, what now?” said Molly.
“All the way here, I’ve been spotting small differences,” I said slowly. “Doors where there shouldn’t be any, corridors opening onto halls that shouldn’t exist, familiar routes that end abruptly at blank walls . . . I haven’t seen any major changes—this is still the Hall I know—but it worries me that these little differences might add up to a Hall and a family I might not recognise at all.”
“I do have some experience travelling in other earths,” said Molly. “Often it’s the small differences that can be the most disturbing.”
I looked at her. “And you never got around to telling me about these little side trips before because . . . ?”
“I don’t have to tell you everything,” Molly said haughtily. “I do have a life of my own, away from you. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Eddie. It’s just that sometimes . . . I feel the need to get away from everything. And where better to do that than on a completely different Earth?”
“I never feel the need to get away from you,” I said.
“And you’re the only thing in my world that doesn’t occasionally drive me crazy,” said Molly. “Settle for that.”
“All right,” I said. “What could be so disturbing about this strange new world?”
“Well, to start with, people we saw die could still be alive here. And vice versa, of course.”
“But not my family,” I said. “It was a nice thought, that some might have escaped the massacre. But Edmund seemed quite convinced all of this world’s Droods were dead, apart from him.”
“He should know,” said Molly. “He betrayed them.”
I shook my head slowly. “How could any version of me be so . . . vicious? What could have happened to me in this world to turn me into a cold-blooded killer who happily arranged for his whole family to be slaughtered?” I had to stop and breathe deeply for a moment, to bring my emotions under control. “The Armourer James said his family drove Edmund out. That he went to ground and disappeared.”
“So he never hooked up with me?” said Molly.
I tried to smile, just for her. “No wonder he went to the bad.”
“Eddie, you need to forget about these other Droods,” said Molly. “It’s just holding you back. We need to concentrate on finding something that can help you. Maybe even find a cure . . . Eddie? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m just . . . tired.”
Exhaustion hit me like a sucker punch. It was all suddenly too much, being so far from home, trapped in a distorted mirror of everything I knew. With death hovering over me like a vulture, just waiting for me to weaken. My vision darkened, my knees buckled, and I started to fall. Molly was quickly there to grab me and hold me up. Leaning in close so she could shout in my ear.
“Eddie, come on! You can’t give up now. There’s still things that need doing, people who need killing, and I can’t do it all on my own! I need you! You’re a Drood, dammit. Act like one!”
That’s my Molly. Always telling me what I need to hear, whether I want to hear it or not.
I forced the weakness back, refusing to be beaten by anything that got in the way of what needed doing, even myself. Perhaps especially myself. I stamped my feet hard until my legs straightened and my head came up. Molly saw my face clear and immediately stepped back to let me stand on my own. Watching me carefully, until she was sure I could manage without her. I gave her my best reassuring smile.
“It’s all right, Molly. I’m back. You didn’t really think I’d leave you here alone, did you? I can be strong for you.”
“I know that,” she said. “You just forgot for a moment. Look, have you seen enough of this Hall? Can we go now?”
“Not just yet,” I said. “A thought has occurred to me.”
“Oh, that’s never good,” said Molly. “What is it this time?”
“The last time we were here, we visited the Old Library and found a book set out on a reading stand. Left there for us, to tell us things we needed to know. And while we were there . . . something spoke to us.”
Molly shuddered briefly. “Yes . . . A voice, from out of the dark between the stacks. It knew our names. But it really didn’t sound like anything I wanted to stick around and meet.”
“In our Old Library, there’s always the Pook,” I said carefully. “The Librarian’s not-quite-imaginary-enough friend. Maybe whoever left that book out for us is ready to help us again.”
“Okay,” said Molly. “I have to say, that doesn’t strike me as one of your better ideas. Our Pook is disturbing enough. I’m not even convinced he’s real, just something that followed the Librarian home from the Asylum for the Criminally Insane.”
“True,” I said. “But I always got the feeling the Pook was on our side.”
“Yes . . . ,” said Molly, drawing the word out till it sounded more like no. “I suppose it’s worth a try. We could use someone here on our side.”
I frowned as another thought hit me.
“Oh, what is it now!” said Molly.
“There are no bodies in the Hall,” I said slowly. “There were bodies the last time we were here. Dead Droods in their armour, the golden material half-melted and fused together. I hadn’t thought anything could do that to Drood armour. But I haven’t seen a single body anywhere.”
“Maybe they were harvested by this world’s Black Heir,” said Molly. “So they could reverse-engineer their own armour.”
“They would have known better,” I said. “This world’s armour came from the Heart and drew its power from the life energies of sacrificed Droods. The kind my family used to depend on, until I put a stop to it. But that never happened here.”
“Don’t start blaming yourself for things you didn’t do,” Molly said sharply. “Whatever kind of Droods they were, they weren’t your family.”
“They were a version of my family,” I said. “With familiar names and faces.” I broke off as a really disturbing thought hit me. “Molly, could the Heart still be here? I know we checked the Sanctity last time and there was no sign of it, but could it be . . . hiding somewhere? Hoping for a Drood to return?”
“You are not thinking of making the Heart your ally!” said Molly.
“Hell no,” I said. “I just want to know if I’m going to have to kill it again.”
Molly’s eyes became cold and distant as she sent her witchy Sight racing through the Hall. I looked quickly around, my hands clenched into fists, my skin crawling in anticipation of the attack I knew I’d never see coming. And then Molly relaxed, and shot me a reassuring smile.
“Take it easy; there’s no trace of the Heart anywhere in the Hall. Or on the grounds, or even on this plane of existence. It probably ran off to some other dimension the moment it saw the Droods were losing.”
“Well,” I said, relaxing a little in spite of myself, “that’s something, I suppose. One less thing to worry about.”
“Now you see what I mean, about small differences adding up to big changes,” said Molly. “Because of this, you never uncovered the truth about the Heart. These Droods were never freed from its control. With Ethel’s more advanced armour, they might have stood off their attackers.” She stopped, and looked at me sharply. “Hell, I’m amazed this world even exists, given you and I weren’t here to save it from some of the threats we’ve faced.”
“And yet the world still turns and life goes on,” I said. “So someone must have stepped up to save the world in our absence. I find that comforting.”
“You would,” said Molly. “I wonder what price the world had to pay, to be saved by someone else.”
“You would,” I said.
* * *
As we moved quickly through the Hall, a lifeless hush hung over everything, swallowing up the small sounds we made as though resentful of our presence. This wasn’t a place where people lived any more, just a memorial to all the people who’d died here.
And then Molly and I came to a sudden halt, as we came face-to-face with the first really big difference between this family and mine. In an alcove I was sure didn’t exist in my Hall stood a massive statue of the goddess Kali. Thirty feet tall, with half a dozen arms, caught in mid dance. Carved from some unfamiliar blue stone, she was perfect in every horrifying detail. A chain of human skulls hung round her neck, and her many hands were full of unpleasant weapons. Her eyes were dark and dangerous, and her smiling mouth was crammed full of pointed teeth.
Old bloodstains covered the statue’s base, caked and crusted over the delicate feet and ankles.
“Looks like something was sacrificed here,” Molly said quietly. “In fact, I would have to say it looks like a whole lot of somethings died here.”
“Human sacrifices,” I said. “Kali has always valued human deaths over and above all others.”
I leaned in for a closer look. Engraved into the stone base, half-obscured by dried blood, were the words ANOTHER THOUSAND YEARS, OH KALI.
“The old-time Thuggee cults murdered their victims as sacrifices to Kali,” I said. “Not just to worship her, but as payment—to hold her at bay and keep her out of this world. What kind of Droods were they here?”
“And why did the looters leave this statue untouched, when they took everything else?” said Molly.
“They were probably scared to go anywhere near it,” I said. “I can understand that. Just being this close is giving me a major case of the creeps. And I have to wonder, given that these Droods drove Edmund out, what he could have done that was so bad even they couldn’t stomach it.”
“I told you they weren’t your family,” said Molly.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “It feels like the statue is looking at us, and not in a good way.”
“Damn right,” said Molly. “This isn’t a safe place to be.”
The wall beside us exploded inwards, the shockwave blasting pieces of broken stone ahead of it. I armoured up in a moment, grabbed Molly, and held her to me, bending over to shield her body with mine. Jagged stones rained down, bouncing harmlessly off my armour. Thick black smoke billowed across the room as the deafening explosion echoed on and on. Eventually the sound died away, the pieces of shattered stone stopped falling, and the smoke reluctantly began to clear. I straightened up, and Molly immediately pushed herself away from me.
“I do not need protecting!”
“Of course you don’t,” I said. “I just did it for my own peace of mind.”
Molly scowled at me and then turned her glare on the gaping hole in the wall. She batted at the remaining smoke with her hands. “What the hell just happened? Did we trigger some kind of booby-trap, or is Kali mad at us?”
“That was an exterior wall,” I said. “Something hit it from outside. The Hall is under attack.”
“Why would anyone want to attack an empty Hall?” said Molly.
“I have every intention of finding out,” I said. “And then making it clear to whoever did this just how extremely displeased I am.”
“I’ll help,” said Molly.
“Thought you’d want to,” I said.
I felt strong and fast and good inside my armour. As though I’d just been kicked awake, out of the long doze of everyday living. I didn’t care if there was a whole army outside in the grounds; I was ready to take them all on and look good doing it. I glanced at Kali, standing untouched in her alcove. She looked like she approved.
I stepped through the jagged hole in the wall and strode out into the grounds of Drood Hall. It was a bright, sunny afternoon, under a cloudless sky, and a dozen armoured tanks stood arrayed on the lawns before me, their long guns covering the whole side of the Hall. Large, heavy death machines, with stylised military badges to make it clear they represented MI 13. Heavy whining sounds carried clearly on the still air as all the turrets turned as one, bringing their long barrels to bear on me. Enough massed firepower to reduce the whole of Drood Hall to rubble. It would probably have impressed anyone else. A small army of uniformed soldiers backed up the tanks—maybe two hundred men, all of them heavily armed and bearing the same MI 13 military insignia. Molly stepped through the hole in the wall to join me, took in the view, and smiled happily.
“Just when I was thinking I could really use someone to take out the day’s events on . . . How nice of them to volunteer. So, MI Thirteen is a military operation in this world.”
“How bad are things here that the Government’s department for dealing with weird shit needs tanks and soldiers to get the job done?” I said.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” Molly said cheerfully. “All that matters is they chose the wrong day to annoy me. Not that there ever is a good day. Mind you, they do look very smart in their nice uniforms, don’t they?”
“Oh, they do,” I said. “Very smart. Have you by any chance noticed that all the tanks are pointing their guns at us?”
“I had noticed, yes. How very rude of them. I think we should do something about that.”
“Something violent and horribly destructive?”
“How well you know me,” said Molly.
The smartly uniformed soldiers looked at me in my gleaming golden armour, and then at Molly’s happy, smiling face, and went straight from hard-eyed professionalism to mass panic. Shouts and curses and clear sounds of distress rose, followed by a general lowering of weapons. Some of the soldiers turned to run, only to be herded back again by furiously shouting officers. I had to smile, behind my featureless golden face mask. They had no idea how bad things were about to get.
“What kind of soldiers are these?” said Molly. “Half of them look like they’re bricking themselves.”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “Proper respect for my family.”
“I think they’re more afraid of the Kali-worshipping Droods,” said Molly. “That’s not respect I’m seeing; more like stark terror.”
“I can live with that,” I said.
The tanks suddenly opened fire, targeting Molly and me with everything they had. The noise was deafening. The tanks fired again and again, as fast as their gunners could load new shells. I just stood there and let them get on with it. Most of the shells were absorbed harmlessly by my armour. A few exploded squarely against my chest, but I didn’t even rock under the impact. Molly stood calmly beside me, inside a shimmering field of protective energies. Any shell that got anywhere near her just vanished.
We both looked steadily back at the wide array of tanks, entirely unmoved by the continuing onslaught. Every now and then I’d wave at the huddled ranks of soldiers, just to show I hadn’t forgotten them. They didn’t look at all happy about that. One by one the gunners stopped firing, as they either ran out of shells or lost the will to continue. It can’t be easy, trying to kill someone who just stands there and calmly refuses to be killed. Eventually I slapped a shell out of mid-air with the back of my hand, and it exploded not far from the nearest soldiers, showering them with earth and grass. The officers had to do a lot more shouting to get their men to hold their positions.
“Okay,” said Molly, “you’re just playing with them now, and I’m getting bored. Not to mention impatient. We need to teach these uniformed bully-boys some manners, so we can get on with what we came here for.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” I said.
I charged forward across the lawn. My armoured legs drove me on at more-than-human speed, my heavy golden feet digging great divots out of the ground. I closed the distance between myself and the tanks so quickly they couldn’t traverse their barrels fast enough to keep up with me. I went straight for the nearest tank, lowered one golden shoulder, and rammed it. Steel shields ruptured, and the sheer force of the impact drove the tank back several feet. I grabbed hold of the metal shielding with both hands and ripped it apart. The steel screamed as my golden gloves tore it like paper. The tank’s barrel tried to lower itself towards me, and I hit it so hard I bent it in half, pointing the end away from me. I did think about tying the barrel in a knot, but that would have felt like showing off. I braced myself, took a firm hold of the tank, and picked the whole thing up. Its heavy treads spun wildly as the engines strained uselessly. I threw the tank away from me. It crashed heavily, some distance away, flipped end over end two or three times, and then the engines cut out.
Another tank powered in my direction, lowering its barrel as much as it could to target me. As though getting in close would make any difference. I ran forward, ducked under the barrel, grabbed hold of the tank, and turned the whole thing over onto its side, enjoying the muffled screams from inside. Then I looked around for another tank. I was enjoying myself. I always feel better when the world gives me an opportunity to do something unpleasant about all the things that have been getting on my nerves. There’s nothing like giving an enemy a really good slapping to improve your day.
All the remaining tanks were reversing now, their operators desperate to get as far away from me as they could. Their heavy treads dug deep into the grassy lawn, throwing churned-up grass and earth in every direction and making one hell of a mess. I thought of how much work the family gardeners would have to do to put everything right, and then I remembered. A cold fury rose in me. I turned away from the retreating tanks to face the waiting soldiers, and stalked towards them with vengeance on my mind. Because someone had to pay for what my life had become.
I felt strong and fast and sure. How can I be dying when I feel so strong? Except, of course, it wasn’t me; it was the armour.
Soldiers with heavy automatic weapons hurried forward to face me, driven on by officers screaming themselves hoarse from the rear. The soldiers’ faces were grim but determined. Their guns looked odd to me. Standard types, but not any make I knew. And I’ve faced off against any number of weapons in my time. The soldiers all opened fire at once, and bullets slammed into my armour again and again, to no effect. They couldn’t even slow my advance.
Information flashed up on the inside of my mask, as my armour absorbed the various bullets and analysed them. My armour always absorbs bullets, rather than let them ricochet and possibly injure some innocent bystander. Though I was pretty sure there weren’t any of those around just at the moment. I was interested to discover that the soldiers were firing a wide assortment of ammunition. Blessed and cursed, garlic coated and mercury tipped, even depleted uranium with crosses carved into them. Apparently this version of MI 13 liked to be prepared for all eventualities. They had something to stop anyone—except a really upset Drood in his armour.
Seeing that they were getting nowhere with me, the soldiers turned their guns on Molly as she sauntered forward to join me, not wanting to be left out of the action. I wasn’t worried. The moment the soldiers opened fire on Molly, she gestured imperiously and all their bullets turned into butterflies. Big, bright, and colourful, the butterflies immediately turned around and flapped determinedly towards the soldiers, who threw away their weapons and ran, shouldering their officers out of the way.
“Wimps!” Molly yelled after them.
While she was busy doing that, another solider stepped forward and fired his bazooka at her at point-blank range. Molly spun round, her shields flaring up to stand off an exploding shell. Instead, a glowing net erupted from the bazooka, spreading out as it flew through the air. Molly gestured at it dismissively, but the net just kept coming. It fell upon her, passing through her shields as though they weren’t even there. The glowing strands snapped around Molly in a moment, and then constricted sharply until she could barely move. Some kind of magic neutraliser. It seemed this MI 13 had experience when it came to dealing with really powerful witches.
I started towards Molly. I didn’t care what that net was made of; I was going to rip it apart with my golden hands. But Molly glared at me and shook her head furiously.
“No! Don’t you dare, Eddie Drood! I am more than capable of rescuing myself. You go deal with those damned soldiers.”
I stopped and nodded. I could have freed her, but I knew that if I did it would be a really long time before she forgave me. Interfering would be proof that I had no faith in her abilities, that I didn’t think she could pull her weight. Molly needed to feel she was an equal partner to a Drood in his armour, and, to be fair, most of the time she was. So I headed straight for the nearest soldiers, to take my anger out on them.
Most of them threw away their guns and ran for their lives, followed by their hysterically screaming officers. I let them go. It’s nice to be appreciated.
On the edge of my mask’s wide peripheral vision, I saw Molly produce a very ordinary, entirely nonmagical knife and start sawing through the strands of the net. Half a dozen soldiers were racing across the lawns, desperate to get to her before she could free herself and regain control of her magics. So I just happened to change my course a little, placing my armoured body between them and Molly, so they couldn’t open fire on her. I could get away with that much. The soldiers shied away from me, giving me plenty of room, but kept going.
Molly kept a careful eye on them as she cut through one strand after another, until suddenly the net stopped glowing. It quickly fell away, and Molly’s magical energies flared up around her again. The soldiers crashed to a halt. She smiled nastily at them and raised one hand, and the soldiers turned and ran. Molly looked after them thoughtfully, in a way I knew meant she was seriously thinking about transforming them into small squishy things and then stamping on them. But she didn’t, because she knew I wouldn’t approve. Mad as I was at the world, I only wanted the soldiers punished, not dead.
Molly turned abruptly to look at me, to make sure I wasn’t taking an undue interest in what she was doing, but by then I was carefully concentrating on the soldiers before me. One lobbed a grenade at me, and I snatched it out of mid-air. I studied the thing carefully. Again, it wasn’t any make I was familiar with. The dully gleaming exterior was etched with ancient Nordic death runes. I closed my golden hand around the grenade and braced myself, ready to contain the explosion . . . But instead coruscating energies flared up around my hand, rapidly swelling into a deepening vortex. I tried to jerk my hand back, and found I couldn’t. It was stuck in the heart of the field.
Something grabbed hold of my armoured hand and jerked it deeper into the vortex. My hand and wrist disappeared, as though the cloud of crackling energies was much deeper than it appeared. I dug my heels deep into the ground as the pull came again, but despite everything I could do I was jerked forward, my arm disappearing into the vortex right up to the elbow. Air whistled past me, sucked in from all directions by the energy field. Great tufts of earth and grass were ripped out of the surrounding lawns, and sucked in by the shimmering energies. And all the time I was fighting the pull with all the strength I had, struggling to break free—and failing.
I knew what the problem was now: I’d been stupid enough to let an implosion grenade detonate. I’d heard of them, because I make it a point to keep up to date with all the latest unpleasantness, but I’d never encountered one before. An explosion in reverse, designed to draw in everything in the vicinity and then compress it down to nothing. The perfect way to kill your enemy and leave no evidence behind. I’d never heard of one being used against a Drood before, so I had no idea how to fight it. The energy field yanked me forward another step, sucking my arm in well past the elbow. I could feel a growing pressure on the part of my arm I couldn’t see, and if I could feel that through my armour, it had to be seriously strong. As in, bottom-of-the-ocean, tons-of-pressure-per-square-inch strong.
I thought quickly. Some of the soldiers were firing their guns at me while I was distracted, more in a spirit of optimism than anything else. I let my armour absorb the bullets while I concentrated on the problem before me. Brute strength might not be enough to break me free of the field, but I was still willing to bet the strange matter of my armour against whatever energies the field could produce. So I stopped fighting the pull and stepped forward, right into the heart of the vortex.
The world around me disappeared, replaced by flaring energies so bright and vivid they were beyond colour. A terrible pressure clamped down on me from all sides, as if I were being crushed in the hand of God. And then the appalling forces of the energy vortex met the implacable power of my armour . . . and the field just collapsed. The world reappeared, the air around me lightly dusted with the last dissipating traces of implosion energies. I held my armoured arm up before me and turned my hand back and forth. Not even a dent.
The soldiers cried out in shock and alarm as I turned unhurriedly to face them, and then they fell silent. There’s something about the lack of eyes in my golden face mask that really freaks people out.
The implosion grenade had been a pretty good idea. It might even have worked against the old Heart armour. But MI 13 had never met a Drood like me. Molly ambled over, nodding casually, as though it had never even occurred to her I might be in trouble. And quite possibly it hadn’t. One of the soldiers said something very bad and threw a grenade at us. Molly snapped her fingers and the grenade exploded well short of us. A nasty-looking purple gas billowed out. Molly gestured at it dismissively, and the gas swept back to envelop the soldiers. They were forced to retreat, gagging and choking.
The remaining soldiers opened fire on me and Molly, hitting us with everything they had. I charged forward, crossing the intervening ground in seconds, and was quickly in and among them. I punched out the nearest soldier, and his head snapped right back, blood spurting from a ruined nose and mouth. I back-elbowed another in the gut, bending him in two, and swept the legs out from under a third. I ploughed on through the rest of the soldiers, sending them flying. Guns opened up on me at point-blank range, but my armour just sucked in the bullets. Some soldiers slammed their gun butts against my head and neck, as though that would have more effect than bullets. I just knocked the soldiers down and trampled them underfoot and kept going. I was grinning inside my mask, and it was a good thing the soldiers couldn’t see. It felt like a death’s-head grin. I started picking soldiers up and throwing them away, and men flew through the air like uniformed Frisbees. They hit the ground hard, and took their time getting up again.
I was still holding back. Human bodies can be very frail when faced with the awful strength of Drood armour. Besides, God alone knew how many deaths could be laid at the doors of the Kali-worshipping Droods. There was always a chance MI 13 were the good guys. And, anyway, I don’t kill unless I have to. I’m a secret agent, not an assassin.
It wasn’t like the soldiers presented any real threat to me . . .
But even as I swept them aside with my golden arms, or clubbed down the stubborn ones, my cold anger returned. Remembering how the soldiers had attacked without warning, blown a hole in my home . . . and threatened my Molly. They had tried to kill me, not knowing Dr DOA had already done that. I couldn’t get to him, but the soldiers were right there in front of me. This wasn’t my world, after all, so maybe the old rules and restrictions didn’t apply. I could do anything I wanted here, anything I felt like, and no one would ever bring me to book for it. I was dying. Didn’t I have the right to take some measure of vengeance on an uncaring world?
I grabbed the nearest soldier by the throat and lifted him off the ground. His feet kicked helplessly and his eyes bulged as I began choking the life out of him. I needed to punish someone for what had been done to me. It was only fair that someone should suffer, as I had been made to suffer. But then the moment passed. I wasn’t a killer. I let go of the soldier and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching at his bruised throat. I stood there, looking down at him with my featureless mask, thinking about what I’d almost done. The soldier scrambled away from me, and I let him go.
It didn’t matter what the Droods had made of themselves in this world. I was a different kind of Drood, and I would remain the kind of man I’d chosen to be. Right till the end.
“I wondered what you were going to do there for a moment,” said Molly, coming over to join me.
“I wondered too,” I said. “Just for a moment.”
The few groups of soldiers still standing threw down their guns and all but begged to be allowed to surrender. The tank crews had already abandoned their vehicles. I nodded formally to them all, accepting the victory. Molly looked like she would have preferred to go on fighting until she’d ground every single one of them beneath her feet, but, then, that’s Molly for you. She stood stiffly beside me, arms tightly folded, looking hopefully around for someone dumb enough to mouth off. But none of the MI 13 soldiers were that dumb. They stuck their hands in the air or clasped them on top of their heads, and did their best to avoid Molly’s gaze. Even the officers. Perhaps especially the officers.
The last of my anger went out of me, as I realised how scared they all were. Most of them looked like they were still expecting me to slaughter everyone within reach, even though they’d surrendered, because that was what Droods did in this world. I took a deep breath and armoured down, so they could see I was just a man. A murmur of relief rose among the soldiers, followed by some odd looks as they studied my bare face. It was obvious none of them recognised me.
I had to struggle to keep a sudden wave of tiredness off my face. Without my armour’s strength the exhaustion was back, hitting me so hard it almost drove me to my knees. I had forgotten how bad I felt, until I didn’t have my armour to hold me up. I made myself smile easily. I couldn’t afford for anyone to realise just how weak I was. I sent a trickle of golden strange matter down my back, under my clothes, and it lent me a measure of support.
I looked carefully around until I picked out the officer in charge. A major, by his insignia; smartly turned out, not far from my age. Handsome enough, apart from the old-fashioned military moustache. I beckoned to him, and he lowered his hands and moved slowly forward to join me. He looked like he thought he was walking to his death. He finally crashed to a halt right in front of me, fired off a salute, and then snapped to attention. His back was ramrod straight, and he met my gaze steadily, braced for whatever appalling thing I had in mind.
“Relax, Major,” I said. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“You’re not?” said the major. He sounded honestly surprised.
“I’m not Edmund,” I said.
“I have no idea who that might be,” the major said carefully. “Or who you are. I don’t recognise you from our files, though before today I would have said that was impossible. MI Thirteen has extensive files on the Drood family. Know thy enemy, if you want to survive meeting him.”
“I’m Eddie Drood. Why did you attack us, Major?”
“Because you’re a Drood,” said the major, in a way that suggested his answer should have been self-evident.
“I’m a different kind of Drood,” I said.
“If you say so,” said the major. He did relax a little, and even managed a small smile. “I’m Major Benson. I really thought you were going to kill me as an example.”
“And you were ready to go along with that?” said Molly.
The major jumped, just a little, at the sound of her voice. He glanced at her and then stared determinedly back at me, the lesser of two evils. He might be scared of me, but he was terrified of Molly.
“Why are you so scared of her?” I said.
“Because that’s Molly Metcalf!” said the major, his voice rising in spite of himself. “It’s a wonder to me we’re not all sitting around on a rock pool somewhere, catching flies with our tongues! Nobody warned me we’d be going up against an infamous wild witch, supernatural terrorist, and Mistress of the Dark Arts!”
“I am nobody’s mistress,” Molly said haughtily.
“I could always pay you a retainer,” I said.
“Don’t push your luck, Drood,” said Molly. She glowered at the major. “I am a different Molly Metcalf.”
“Clearly,” said the major. “I was surprised to see you here, with him. I always thought you and the Droods were mortal enemies.”
“You have a file on Molly too?” I said.
“Of course!” said the major. “She’s been Most Wanted for three years running on the Occult Crimes Register!”
Molly clapped her hands delightedly. “I made number one! I always knew I could . . . I am so proud.”
“We thought you were still hiding out in the Paris catacombs,” said the major, “after what you did to the Louvre. Can I ask: What are you doing here? With the Droods, of all people?”
“We’re together,” said Molly.
The major looked politely baffled. “Together . . . ?”
“We’re an item,” I said.
“Okay,” said the major. “Not the most unlikely thing I’ve ever heard, but pretty damn close. You’re together? That’s just spooky . . . and not a little disturbing. Two of the most dangerous people in the world are now involved with each other.”
“You do realise you’re saying this out loud, Major?” I said.
“I’m probably just giddy at still being alive,” said the major. “Isn’t it a lovely day? I might go for a stroll later.”
“Pull yourself together,” I said sharply. “We have questions we want answered. And while Molly and I might not be exactly who you were expecting, we are still a Drood and a witch.”
“Most Wanted supernatural terrorist witch,” said Molly. “Get the billing right.”
“You’re not feeling nostalgic, are you?” I said. “You promised me you’d put all that behind you.”
“Live your dreams—that’s what I say,” Molly said cheerfully.
“Can’t take you anywhere.” I turned my attention back to Major Benson and fixed him with my best thoughtful stare. “How did you know someone was back in the Hall, Major?”
“You have got to be kidding!” said the major. “Drood Hall has been under constant surveillance ever since the Great Invasion. We have sensors scattered across the grounds, along the perimeter, and all through the Hall. We have farscrying viewers watching this place in eight-hour shifts, and satellites in orbit specifically tasked to do nothing but scan the Hall and its surroundings on every known scientific and supernatural wavelength. The second you appeared inside the Hall, your torc set off all kinds of silent alarms. It was just my bad luck I happened to be on guard duty outside the gates, so I got the call to investigate. My first impulse was to tear off my uniform and sprint for the nearest horizon, and I do wish I’d listened to it.”
“Breathe, Major,” I said kindly. “You’re hyperventilating.”
“Can I just ask: How did you get inside the Hall, past all our very expensive safeguards?” The major sounded honestly curious. “Black Heir assured us no one could get past the kind of security it had put in place.”
“Never trust Black Heir,” I said. That seemed a safe enough thing to say, no matter what world I was in. “If I were you, I’d ask for my money back. Now tell me: Why have you been keeping such a close eye on the old place, Major? Given that all of my family are supposed to be dead?”
“Because there was always the possibility not all of you died here that day,” said the major. “It’s possibilities like this that keep good people from sleeping soundly at night.”
“Don’t worry, Major,” I said. “Molly and I aren’t planning on staying.”
“So . . . ,” the major said casually, “are you . . . the only surviving Drood?”
“You’re asking the wrong man,” I said.
“Hold everything; throw it in reverse,” said Molly. “Your sensors must have told you it was just the two of us in the Hall, so why bring all these tanks and a small army of soldiers?”
“To deal with a Drood and Molly Metcalf?” said the major. “Anything less would have been suicide! I wasn’t convinced any of this would do much good, to be honest, but someone higher up the food chain thought we’d tried everything but brute force, so . . .”
“You really believed you were all going to die, trying to stop us,” I said, studying the major’s face carefully. “But you took us on, anyway. Why?”
He shrugged quickly. “It’s the job. It’s our duty, to protect the world from people like you.”
I actually liked him rather better for saying that, though I did my best to keep it out of my face.
“Tell me what I need to know, Major,” I said. “And in return I promise you and all your people will get to walk out of here.”
The major looked at me oddly. “You’re giving me your word? And you mean it . . . I can see it in your eyes. What kind of a Drood are you?”
“You’d be surprised,” I said. “Talk to me about the Great Invasion. Who was involved? Who killed my family? Was it the Immortals?”
The major paused, considering his words carefully. “They took the lead, naturally. But basically, once word got out that all the Hall’s protections were down, and for the first time ever the Droods were seriously vulnerable, everyone just came running. Representatives from all sorts of secret agencies, heroes and villains and everyone in between. Everyone wanted in. Your family made a lot of enemies, down the years. No one wanted to miss out on what might be their only chance for revenge.”
“Revenge?” I said. “For what?”
“For what you’ve done to the world,” said the major. And just like that, his voice and his gaze were very cold.
“Were the Droods really that bad?” said Molly.
The major looked at her. “You should know; you were here. Along with your sisters. God alone knows how many Droods the three of you killed that day.”
Molly and I looked at each other, but neither of us felt like saying anything. I looked around the grounds for a while, getting my mental second wind, and then turned back to nod briskly at Major Benson.
“All right,” I said. “Major, it’s time for you and your people to be on their way. Do not pass go, do not stop off at the gift shop, and don’t even think about coming back. Tell your superiors: Drood Hall is dead. Leave it in peace.”
“I can tell them,” said the major, careful in his choice of words, as always. “But they’re never going to believe this . . .”
“Make them believe,” I said. And something in my voice made him nod quickly.
I gestured for him to leave, and he backed quickly away. He gathered up his people, including the wounded, the unconscious, and those still hacking and coughing from the purple gas; and pointed them towards the long gravel path that led to the main gates. The soldiers set off at a fair pace, supporting or carrying others where necessary. Afraid I might change my mind at any moment. A few looked back sadly at the tanks they were leaving behind, but knew better than to ask. The major was the last to leave. He hesitated, and then looked at me steadily.
“I never thought I’d be saying this to a Drood, but . . . you did right by us, when no one expected you to. You’re not like any Drood I ever heard of; except when you’re fighting. So . . . we’re leaving, but you can be sure other forces are already on their way. Bigger and far more dangerous forces, with real firepower. Hell, somebody’s probably already talking about nuking the Hall from orbit, as the only way to be sure. They only let us come in first because we were nearest, and they wanted to see what you would do. What you were capable of. All they really expected of us was that we might hold your attention long enough for everyone else to get here. All kinds of people will be coming . . . if only for one last chance to kill a Drood. You really don’t want to be here when they arrive.”
“Thank you, Major,” I said.
He shook his head as though even simple courtesy was beyond anything he’d expected. “Can I just ask: Who are you, really? We honestly believed all the Droods were dead. And there’s definitely no Eddie Drood in any of our files.”
“They’re gone,” I said. “And I’m not staying. Now get off my lawn.”
The major threw me a quick salute, turned smartly about, and hurried off after his men.
“We’re really just letting them go?” Molly said quietly. “After they did their best to kill us?”
“Not us,” I said. “This world’s version of us. And I’m starting to wonder if they might not have been justified. Come on. Let’s see to our business in the Old Library, and then get the hell out of here.”
“You really think we’re going to find anything useful?” said Molly.
“Who knows what we might find,” I said, “in this strange new world?”
“Maybe it’ll be something we can sell,” said Molly.