The family doctors and nurses soon ran out of stretchers, even though they were dropping the bodies off in the mortuary and returning as fast as they could. So when the stretchers ran out, they improvised with tables and trolleys and other flat surfaces. For the bits and parts of bodies, and the severed heads, the doctors loaded them into black plastic garbage bags, to be sorted out later. The crowd didn’t like that, but the decision had been made to get the bodies off the planes and out of sight as quickly as possible. It wasn’t my decision. I was too numb to think of anything except how badly I’d screwed up. No, someone in the Inner Circle had thought ahead, and made the decision for me. How very thoughtful of them. Though of course, this wasn’t to spare my feelings, but the family’s.
I stood in the shadow of my plane and made myself watch silently until every last body had been carried into the Hall. Brought home, at last. That was my duty, and my penance. Molly stood beside me the whole time, still holding my hand. I held onto her like a drowning man, clutching her hand so hard I must have hurt her, but she never made a sound. I never said a thing, not even when my family looked at me with hot teary eyes and cold judgemental faces. What could I say, except I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
As the last few stretchers and the last few plastic bags disappeared inside, Molly finally stirred and leaned in close to me. “Don’t you have any body bags?” she said quietly. “For disasters and emergencies like this?”
“There’s never been a disaster like this before,” I said. “We never needed body bags, because we never lost this many people.”
“We didn’t lose the battle,” said Molly. “We destroyed the Loathly Ones’ nest, and their tower. We stopped the Bad Thing from coming through. Hell, we saved the world, Eddie.”
“If this is a victory, I’d hate to see a defeat,” I said. “Whatever temporary success we achieved, we paid for with our dearest blood. Those people followed me into battle because they believed in me. They were the chosen ones, who’d earned their place through merit, and hard work. I promised them victory and glory, and a chance to be heroes. This . . . This was supposed to be a demonstration of Drood power. No one was supposed to get hurt. Now most of those brave souls are gone, and the family will seem more vulnerable than ever.”
“So . . . what are you going to do?” said Molly.
“I have no choice anymore. Every Drood must have a torc, and the armour that goes with it. Whether I think they can be trusted or not. The family must be protected. If need be, even from me and my stupid ideas.”
“Don’t!” Molly said sharply. “Don’t start doubting your own judgement, just because one battle went against you. You did everything right. There was no way you could have known about all those other demons, hidden inside the tower.”
She broke off as Harry strode over to confront me. He held his head high, striding like a soldier, his every move full of the arrogance of the utterly self-justified. He knew all the family was watching. He slammed to a halt right in front of me, struck a condemnatory pose, and raised his voice so everyone could hear.
“This is all your fault, Edwin. All of it. I told you your attack force wasn’t big enough. I told you we all needed torcs, if we were to defeat the Loathly Ones. But no, you wouldn’t listen. You knew best. You just had to prove yourself as leader. And now, because of you, because of your pride and arrogance, all those good men and women are dead. Sacrificed on the altar of your ambition!”
“Nice speech, Harry,” I said. “Been practicing it all the way home, have you? I had to go with the information I had. None of this could have been predicted. We’ve never faced anything like this before.”
“Just what I would have expected from you,” said Harry. “Excuses! Face facts, Eddie; you’re just not up to the job. You never were. Even as a field agent, you were deemed so second-rate you were never allowed outside London! If you had any real pride, if you really cared about what was best for the family, you’d step down and let someone more qualified take over.”
“Got someone in mind, have you, Harry?” I said. “Yourself, perhaps?”
“Typical of you, Eddie, to try and make this about personalities,” Harry said grandly. “I don’t want to lead this family; I just want you gone. The Matriarch knew all about you. Knew you weren’t to be trusted with anything that really mattered. That’s why she let you run away from home, because you wouldn’t be missed. We should have hunted you down like any other rogue.”
“I was never a rogue! I worked for the family!” I stepped forwards, my hands clenching into fists.
“Don’t,” Molly said quickly. “It’s what he wants.”
“Yes, listen to your better half,” said Harry, sneering openly now. “You showed your true colours when you shacked up with her. When you had the sheer nerve to bring the infamous Molly Metcalf into our home, the bitch in heat of the wild woods!”
I hit him hard, right in the mouth. He staggered backwards, but didn’t go down. The watching crowd made a series of shocked noises, but no one moved. They were all waiting to see what would happen next, and their eyes were very bright. Harry turned his face, so they could all see the blood on his mouth and chin, and then he armoured up. The silver armour swept over him in a moment, and he stood tall and proud before the family, like an avatar of vengeance. I’d done what he wanted. He’d goaded me into losing my temper, and striking him first. He’d had a long time to plan all this on the way back, to work out just how to manipulate me before the family. I knew all that, knew I was playing his game, and I didn’t care. I needed to hit someone, and Harry would do just fine. I armoured up, and we stepped forward to face each other, both of us reflected in the other’s armour.
“Come on,” said Harry. “Show me what you’ve got. Show me all the dirty tricks you used to murder my father.”
“Love to,” I said. I raised my hands, and long, silver cutting blades grew out of my fists.
“Stop this!” said the Armourer, forcing his way forward through the crowd. “Stop this right now, both of you! Sarjeant-at-Arms, do your duty, dammit!”
Then, and only then, the Sarjeant came forward to separate us. The Armourer was quickly there too, slamming a liver-spotted hand flat against my silver chest, and glaring fiercely into my featureless silver mask. The Sarjeant looked at Harry, and of course Harry immediately armoured down. Like a good little boy, a respectful member of the family. He’d played me, right from the start. He’d never expected to actually have to fight. He knew someone would step in to stop it. What mattered was that he’d made me look bad in front of the whole family. He flashed me a brief triumphant smile, and then strode off into the Hall, along with the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Probably to make his report to the Matriarch. No one actually applauded him, but there was a general murmur of support within the crowd.
I armoured down, and nodded shamefacedly to the Armourer. He growled something under his breath and shook his head.
“Get inside, boy. The situation’s beyond saving here.”
I looked around me at the watching family. It wasn’t that long ago they’d gathered together to cheer my name, as the family’s saviour. And now they looked at me like I was some kind of war criminal. It wasn’t just that I’d lost a battle. I’d disappointed them by not being their perfect hero after all. I took out the Merlin Glass, shook it out to full size, and stepped through into the Armoury. Molly and the Armourer hurried through after me, and I shut the Glass down again. The weight of the family’s disapproving eyes was gone, and we were alone in the Armoury.
“You know, Eddie,” said Molly. “It seems to me that you’re getting just a bit dependent on that mirror.”
“Nonsense,” the Armourer said briskly. “That’s why I gave him the Glass—to get him out of close scrapes. Devices are meant to be used. How about I make us a nice cup of tea? And I’m pretty sure there’s an unopened box of Jaffa Cakes around here somewhere.” He stopped abruptly and looked at me. “You know, you look like shit, boy. Are you hurt? Injured?”
> “No,” I said. “All that slaughter and butchery, and I came through it all without a scratch. Of course I did; I had the family armour. The others didn’t, and the Loathly Ones tore them apart.”
“Never look back, boy,” the Armourer said gruffly. “Concentrate on what you’re going to do next. Doesn’t matter if you lose a battle, as long as you win the war. Take a look at the family record; we’ve known our fair share of defeats. Of course, you have to go back quite a way to find anything like this . . . But that’s because the family’s grown soft and complacent and cautious, down the years, leaving all the dirty work to the field agents. Only picking the small battles, the small victories we were sure we could win. That’s why the Loathly Ones have been able to stick around this long and build up their numbers. Never would have been allowed, not even a century ago. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, Eddie, and think! Did you learn anything useful from this first encounter? Anything you can use, the next time you go up against the bastards?”
“Maybe,” I said. I felt suddenly tired, and sat down on the nearest chair. Molly looked worried, and I gave her a reassuring smile. Though it couldn’t have been that reassuring, because she looked even more worried. I fished inside my jacket pocket and brought out the Kandarian stone amulet Molly had recovered from the wreckage of the tower. I handed the ugly thing over to the Armourer, who studied it closely for a while, and then sat down beside me and studied the thing even more closely under a powerful magnifying glass. Molly pulled up a chair and sat down beside me. I barely noticed. I was focussed on the amulet. I needed it to be something, something important, to justify what we’d been through to get it. The Armourer prodded and rubbed at the gray stone amulet with his broad heavy engineer’s fingers, muttering to himself all the while.
“Hmmm. So. Kandarian all right. In remarkably good condition, given that it’s almost certainly over three thousand years old, judging by the style of the markings. But then, most Kandarian artefacts are very . . . enduring. They were built to last, using processes we can only guess at now. Kandar . . . Vile place, by all accounts. Demon worshippers. Gave themselves up voluntarily to possession by Beings from Outside. Subjugated every other culture they came in contact with, and did terrible things to them. Just because they could. Slavery, torture, ritual sacrifice; slaughter and suffering were meat and drink to old Kandar. Finally they went to war with themselves, and their whole civilisation was wiped out in the course of one terrible, blood-soaked night. Not one trace of their cities remains today. Their culture and their people utterly extinct. Probably just as well. All we ever see now is the odd amulet or weapon, preserved long after they should have crumbled into dust by the energies trapped within. We only understand the language because so many spells and incantations were originally written in it.”
“What about this particular glyph?” I said, pointing at the amulet. “I translated it as Invaders.”
“Hmmm? Oh yes, quite right, Eddie. Good to see you paid attention during some of your classes, at least. Yes, Invaders. Quite definitely plural. And the surrounding glyphs suggest that this was a summoning, to bring these Invaders through into our world. I think we have to assume that the Presence you felt on the other side of the Nazca gateway was just one, of many. Which in turn suggests . . .”
“That there must be other nests,” I said. “More gateways built by the Loathly Ones, to bring through a whole invasion force of these Beings.”
“Oh shit,” said Molly. “It was hard enough taking one down. How many could there be?”
“Who knows?” said the Armourer. “Hundreds, thousands, hundreds of thousands? Nests set up in countries all across the world, and all of humanity under threat. A threat we would have known nothing about . . . if you hadn’t launched your attack on the Loathly Ones, Eddie.”
“This is major-league stuff,” said Molly. “The whole world under threat? What do we do?”
“We stop them,” I said. “That’s what this family does. Uncle Jack, do we need to unlock the Armageddon Codex again?”
“Certainly not,” the Armourer said firmly. “I opened the Codex for you once, and that was one time more than I ever expected to see the Codex opened in my lifetime. No, those superweapons are only supposed to be used as a last resort, when reality itself is under threat. And things aren’t that bad. Yet.”
“But if the world’s about to be invaded by Beings from Outside . . .” I said.
“No, Eddie. The family can deal with this. We have before. Read the records. I swear we don’t teach nearly enough family history anymore. The Codex weapons are for when everything else, including tears, swearing, and prayer, have failed us. Not just to salve your pride, after it’s taken a beating in the field.”
“You weren’t there,” Molly said sharply. “You didn’t see what we did. Sense what we sensed . . . It was bad, really bad. Whatever it was, trying to force its way into our reality, it was worse than anything I’ve ever encountered. I’ve dealt with demons and devils in my time, and forces from Above and Below our reality, but these Invaders . . . They scare the shit out of me. Remember, Eddie, when you said there were two kinds of enemy: demons and gods? Well, the Loathly Ones may be demons, but whatever they’re trying to summon most definitely aren’t.”
“The family can handle this,” the Armourer said firmly. “I have developed weapons here beyond your worst nightmares. You have no idea what the Droods are capable of, Molly, when they finally go to war. We’ve been drowsing too long, coasting on our past victories. About time we got stuck in again, and got our hands bloody. We were warriors once, and will be again.” The Armourer smiled, and his usual kindly, absent-minded manner just vanished, replaced by a cold and focused malice. I should never have forgotten that this man had once been a first-class field agent during the coldest part of the Cold War, almost as lauded as his famous brother James.
Licensed to kill, in hot blood or cold, so long as they got the job done.
The Armourer turned to Molly, and was immediately his old gruff self again. “Don’t you worry, my dear, all will be well. You’ll see. Now, Eddie, how did you get on with that new short-range teleport bracelet I gave you? Work okay? Any problems?”
“Ah,” I said. “Yes, well . . . Actually, in the heat of battle with so much going on . . . I sort of forgot I had it with me.”
The Armourer sighed heavily. “Lean forward, will you, Eddie.” I did so, and he smacked me hard around the back of the head.
“Hey! Dammit, Uncle Jack, that hurt!”
“Good. It might help you remember, next time. I give you these things to give you an edge in battle! To keep you alive! I expect you to use them. I expect you to . . .” A nearby comm unit began to bleep insistently, and the Armourer broke off to answer it. “What? I’m busy!”
The Sarjeant-at-Arms’s face appeared on the monitor screen. He nodded brusquely to the Armourer, and then stared right past him at Molly and me.
“I thought you might go to ground in the Armoury. I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Inner Circle, in the Sanctity. Right now. There are urgent matters to be discussed.”
“Oh yes?” I said. “And just when did you get the authority to summon the Circle together?”
“Be there,” he said. “Or we’ll start without you.”
And he closed down the screen before I could answer.
“If it’s not one thing,” said Molly, “it’s another. And I thought my family was bad.”
“Your family?” I said.
“Don’t ask.”
Molly and I left the Armoury and headed straight for the Sanctity. I could have transported us both there with Merlin’s Glass, but for once I was in no hurry. I wanted time to think, plan what I was going to say. The Armourer said he’d be along soon, and I really hoped Jacob would show his ghostly face this time. I just knew I was going to need all the support I could muster at this meeting. And then Molly suddenly stopped dead in her tracks and announced that I’d have to go on without her.
&n
bsp; “I’m sorry, Eddie. Really. But I really can’t stay inside this oppressive old pile any longer. I just can’t. I have to get out, into the open air, before I start to wither.”
“But . . . this is Inner Circle business, Molly. It’s important. I need you to be there, with me.”
“I can’t help that. I have to get out of here before I start screaming. You have no idea what this place does to me, Eddie. You can come and look for me in the grounds when you’ve finished. I need time to myself anyway, to recharge my powers, and rebuild all the energies I used up on the Nazca Plain. Right now, I don’t have a spark of magic left in me. And I can’t live like that.”
I grabbed her by both shoulders and made her look at me. “I need you with me this time, Molly. They’re going to crucify me in there. I can’t face them alone.”
“Yes, you can. You don’t need me nearly as much as you think you do. You’re a lot stronger than you believe, Eddie. Than you allow yourself to be. I’ll see you later.”
She pulled herself out of my grip and hurried off down the corridor, heading for the front entrance and the freedom of the grounds. I called after her, but she didn’t look back once. So I went on to the Sanctity alone, wondering what the hell I was going to say.
When I got there, somehow the Armourer had contrived to arrive ahead of me. He raised one wrist to show off a teleport bracelet and waggled it at me meaningfully. I deliberately ignored him and looked around me. Gathered together in the presence of the softly glowing Strange were Penny, the Sarjeant . . . and Harry. He folded his arms across his chest and gave me a smug smile. The Sarjeant stood beside Harry, being ostentatiously supportive. Penny looked at me thoughtfully. There was no sign of Jacob. Strange’s crimson glow didn’t feel nearly as comforting as usual. I gave everyone there my best hard stare.
“Well, well, this is a surprise. Harry Drood, present at what is supposed to be a private meeting of my Inner Circle. What are you doing here, Harry?”
Daemons Are Forever Page 20