Property of a Lady Faire: A Secret Histories Novel

by Simon R. Green

  I threw the street lamp into the mass of them, and grew my golden sword again. I swung it with both hands, striking down on the bitter yellow armour with all my strength, and the strange matter blade cut deep. It sliced through their armour and out again, sheared clean through shoulders to cut off arms, and decapitated bitter yellow helms, but not one drop of blood flowed. And still the Knights pressed forward. I had to cut off their heads to stop them, one at a time, and as more and more of them crowded in around me, it got harder and harder to find the room to swing my sword.

  They hit me again and again, with their swords and axes and huge brutal fists. Their blades couldn’t penetrate my armour, but they were all so inhumanly strong that the sheer impact got through. Their attacks drove me this way and that, back and forth across the street, even as I fought them, and I cried out inside my mask as the blows hurt me, again and again. I hacked about me with my sword, doing what damage I could, overwhelmed by the crush of bodies.

  I stabbed one False Knight right through his mask, my sword punching through his metal face and out the back of his helm, and even though the Knight fell, it didn’t make a sound and there was no blood. I began to wonder if there was anyone, or anything, left alive inside the bitter yellow armour. I yanked the sword out, back-punching a Knight behind me with my spiked elbow, and kicked the legs out of another Knight in front of me. This opened up a little room, and I swung my sword in short, vicious arcs, going for their throats. A metal fist slammed into the side of my head with incredible force, and the pain was so bad it blinded me. My legs buckled, but I wouldn’t let myself fall. I swung my sword relentlessly, panting harshly, until my vision cleared. My arms and back ached from the sheer effort of fighting, and for a moment all I could see were the faceless masks all around me, and the swords and axes rising and falling, trying to find a weak spot in my armour, or in me. As they beat me to death by inches.

  I saw an opening, threw myself through it, and ran down the street, away from the overpowering numbers.

  When I thought I’d opened up enough space, I lurched to a halt and turned to face them again. The False Knights were coming after me, taking their time. Savouring the moment. They knew I had nowhere to go. I glanced across at Molly. She hadn’t moved from where I’d left her, leaning on a street lamp, holding herself up with the last of her strength. She looked almost as bad as I felt, but she smiled steadily back at me. Waiting to see what I would do next, because she had faith in me.

  “Get ready to run,” I said breathlessly. “I’ve got an idea, but if it doesn’t pan out . . . I’ve got nothing else.”

  “Wait!” said Molly. “I’ve had an idea! What about the Merlin Glass?”

  I looked at her stupidly, fighting to concentrate. My head ached like hell.

  “What about the Glass?”

  “Can’t you use it, to send the False Knights away? Send them somewhere they couldn’t survive?”

  “That is a really good idea,” I said. “Better than mine. I’ll send the bastards to the Moon. One at a time, if I have to.”

  But when I passed my hand through my armoured side, the Merlin Glass wouldn’t come out. The hand mirror jerked this way and that, avoiding my grasping fingers. As though . . . as though it was afraid of the False Knights. I swore briefly, and took my hand out.

  “When this is over,” I told it harshly, “we are going to have a serious discussion about which one of us is in charge here.”

  The False Knights were almost upon me. I put my hand back through my side, and drew my Colt Repeater from its hidden holster. The gun the Armourer gave me long ago. A very special gun, the Colt Repeater teleported ammo straight into the chambers so it could never run out, and I didn’t even need to aim it exactly. The gun never missed. This was my original idea. My golden blade had pierced the False Knights’ armour, so clearly strange matter trumped bitter yellow. If I surrounded every bullet I fired in golden armour, and punched a hole through their heads as I had with my sword . . . they should fall. I grinned coldly behind my mask, and aimed my Colt Repeater at the nearest Knight.

  I shot it through its featureless face. The bitter yellow helm snapped back, and the False Knight crashed to the ground and didn’t move again. The other Knights paused for a moment, as though they couldn’t quite believe what had happened, and then they came on again. I shot them all down, one by one. Aiming and firing as quickly as I could, till my hand ached, picking off target after target. They didn’t even try to defend themselves with different tactics, because they didn’t understand what was happening. They couldn’t understand what was killing them. They’d never seen a gun before. By the time they started to get the idea, I’d already thinned the ranks out so much it didn’t matter. I shot them down without mercy or hesitation, because it was necessary. Not one of them got close to me. I backed away, step by step, still firing as the last of them tried to rush me, until the very last False Knight fell dead at my feet.

  I laughed, shakily, at the piled-up bodies cluttering the street. “You really shouldn’t have come here. Things have changed since your time. We’re much better killers now.”

  They hadn’t even tried to run. They knew they had nowhere to go. So they had just kept coming, kept trying to kill me. They were a lot like Droods, in their way.

  I put the Colt Repeater away. My arm ached, and my hand shook as I held it out before me. The golden strange matter I’d used to coat my bullets ripped itself out of the fallen Knights, and shot back through the air into my waiting hand, melding back into the armour it had come from. I wasn’t going to leave it lying around for MI 13 to pick up.

  I armoured down, and almost collapsed without the armour to support me. I swayed on my feet and Molly was quickly there to hold me, and hold me up. I leaned heavily on her, and she made a soft angry sound as she saw how bad a beating I’d taken.

  “I’m okay,” I said, as much to myself as to Molly. “I just need to . . . get my breath.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Molly.

  “I have to talk to Diment first.”

  “Him? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Molly looked around her. “How long before your family get here?”

  “Not long. I can feel them, through my torc . . . So let’s do this quickly.”

  I pulled myself away from Molly, and she watched me closely until she was sure I could stand unaided. I strode down the street, toward the barricade, keeping my back stiff and my head held high.

  I caught Diment peeking round a corner of the barricade, and I gestured sharply for him to come out and talk to me. He didn’t want to, but he did. He wasn’t going to say no to me, after seeing what I’d done to the False Knights. He came forward and stood before me, doing his best not to look at all the armoured bodies.

  “My family are on their way,” I said. “You stay here and make a full report to them. You know, this could be a really good opportunity for you to drop your current lords and masters right in it. My family are going to be really angry at seeing False Knights here, and you can honestly say it wasn’t your idea. You can point the finger at all those meddling little shits who’ve been messing you around. This could be your chance to actually run MI 13, with my family’s support.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Diment. “Where will you go now?”

  “Away,” I said. “Far away.”

  This time the Merlin Glass all but leaped into my hand, and Molly and I were gone in a moment.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Doors

  Molly and I stepped through the Merlin Glass, and back into the computer room of my safe house, somewhat to Molly’s surprise. I shut the Glass down quickly, to make sure Diment didn’t get a glimpse of where we’d gone. Molly looked around her, as though to make sure she was where she thought she was, and then fixed me with a hard look.

  “Explain.”

  “There’s no way Diment will expect us to hang around,” I said. “Which means he won’t even think to check here. Last place h
e’d look.”

  “And you’re sure about that?” said Molly.

  “Reasonably sure,” I said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, the house’s shields will hide and protect us.”

  “Even from your family, when they get here?”

  “That’s the idea,” I said. “I want to see what happens when they turn up and see the fallen False Knights. Because I need to be sure . . . that only MI 13 higher-ups were involved in bringing the Knights here.”

  Molly shook her head. “I’d say you were being paranoid, but I’ve met your family.”

  “You’ll notice I’m still holding on to the Merlin Glass,” I said. “Just in case we need to leave in a hurry.”

  Molly looked suspiciously at the hand mirror. “And not because you don’t trust it?”

  “Hush,” I said. “It might be listening.”

  Molly started to say something, and then didn’t. She suddenly looked very tired, and swayed on her feet. She’d exhausted herself, along with her magics. I was just as tired, bruised and battered from head to foot. So I took Molly in my arms and we held each other, and leaned on each other.

  “How long can we stay here?” Molly murmured, her face pressed into my shoulder.

  “Not long,” I said. “But long enough to get our second wind.”

  She was so worn out that I was supporting her weight as well as my own, and I was so tired I could barely stand, but I did anyway. Because she needed me, and because I would rather die than let her down. After a while her legs straightened as she got some of her strength back, and she pushed me away. Molly has always believed in standing on her own two feet. I pulled the chair out from the desk and she sat down on it, just a bit heavily. I sat down carefully on the edge of the desk, not letting myself groan out loud. My muscles ached fiercely, but Molly didn’t need to know just how badly the False Knights had hurt me.

  “Why isn’t your family already here?” she said crossly, not looking at me. “Just the arrival of something like the False Knights in our world should have set off all kinds of alarms, back at the Hall.”

  “Undoubtedly,” I said. “They’re probably spitting blood and teeth in the War Room right now. But I rather suspect they’ve been busy, giving all their attention to tracking down those they believe responsible for the massacre at Uncanny.”

  “Your family can’t really believe that was us! They must know better!”

  “They know you know the Regent killed your parents, on Drood orders,” I said carefully. “So it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that things might have got . . . out of hand.”

  “Your family tried to kill me once before,” said Molly. “When they thought I’d murdered the Matriarch. Damn near succeeded . . .”

  “I will never allow that to happen again,” I said. “I will stand between you and all harm.”

  “Even from your family?”

  “Especially from my family.”

  We smiled at each other. It is good to say some things out loud, even when you both already know them. Molly looked at the computer on my desk, and then did a double take, sitting up straight in her chair.

  “Hold everything! That computer is entirely intact and untouched! But I saw you smash it . . .”

  “Drood tech,” I said, just a bit smugly. “Built to last, look after itself, and put itself back together again after Drood temper tantrums. Uncle Jack does good work.”

  “Boys and their toys . . . ,” said Molly.

  “Agents and their equipment,” I said severely.

  And then I looked round sharply and moved over to the window to peer out into the street. Molly immediately levered herself out of her chair and hurried forward to stand beside me. Outside, Alan Diment was walking unhurriedly around the piled-up bodies and bits and pieces of the fallen False Knights, occasionally leaning over to peer at a decapitated head, or poke a body with the toe of his boot, just to be sure. He didn’t look particularly upset, or disturbed. If anything, he looked . . . calm, even satisfied. Which wasn’t what I would have expected from a mere functionary who’d just seen his operation go down in flames, and the people he was after disappear. Unless . . .

  “I wonder,” I said. “Did he know this would all go wrong, but did nothing and allowed it to happen? Just so it would discredit and bring down his loathed lords and masters?”

  “He had the guts to take on the Wulfshead Club,” said Molly.

  “Crafty bugger,” I said. “He’s come a long way . . .”

  “Our little boy is all grown up,” said Molly.

  A handful of black-uniformed MI 13 soldiers moved cautiously down the street, approaching slowly, with weapons at the ready. They looked like they’d crap themselves if a nearby dog farted. They passed the scattered remains of their fallen fellow soldiers, and shied away from the great pools of blood, giving the dead plenty of room. I looked for more soldiers to come and join them, but there weren’t any more. Just these dozen or so men, with their dark visors pushed up, showing pale, shocked faces. They were professional types, and no doubt seasoned fighters, but they weren’t used to meeting things so much worse than they were. I wondered where the rest of them were, and then realised this small number were all that had survived. The False Knights had slaughtered everyone else. I said as much to Molly, and she just shrugged.

  “Do you care, Eddie? Really? Those uniformed scumbags would cheerfully have handed us over to . . . God knows who. To be locked up, or dissected, or just taken out back somewhere and executed.”

  “It’s my job to protect people from things that aren’t people any more,” I said. “Even uniformed thugs and bully boys. It’s a Drood’s job to protect Humanity. No one ever said we had to like them. Or vice versa.”

  “The False Knights were . . . something of a surprise,” said Molly, not looking at me. “You never mentioned them before. First the Drood in Cell 13, now the False Knights. Any more deep, dark secrets in your family’s past?”

  “More than you can possibly imagine,” I said, trying to keep it light. “My family has secrets like a dog has fleas.”

  Molly turned abruptly away from the window and looked back at my computer. “Eddie, if that’s your uncle Jack’s work, how did it get here?”

  “He gave it to me as a moving-in gift,” I said. “The Armourer helped me set up all my safe houses, the approved ones and the underground ones. Who else do you think put in all the shields and defences? I’m a field agent, not an engineer. He’s helped set up safe houses for all our agents. Admittedly I have more than most, because I have always had more reason than most to want to hide from my family . . . but Uncle Jack has always been very supportive.”

  “But that means this place isn’t safe!” Molly said sharply. “He knows about it! He could lead your family straight here!” She stopped, and frowned. “Would he tell them?”

  “Of course,” I said. “He’s fond of me, but this is family business. However, he would be the first to point out that while he knows all my safe houses, he has no way of knowing which one I’d go to first. And the family can’t spare enough people to investigate all of them at once. They’ll have to jump around the world, checking them one at a time. The odds are in our favour, Molly. We have time to get our breath back.”

  “But you want them to come here,” Molly said slowly. “So you can . . . observe them. I’m not sure I’m following this, Eddie.”

  “Not sure I am myself,” I said. “Far too many unanswered questions at the moment. When you’re stuck in the middle of a mystery, information is ammunition. So, we wait.” I forced out an easy smile for her. “And get our strength back, for major arse-kicking in the future.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “Sometimes I think you trust your uncle Jack too much. Don’t get me wrong—I like him. But he’s old school Drood. And I’ve always known he has his own secrets, and his own agenda. I don’t think he’s always on your side.”

  “No one is,” I said. “Except you, of course.”

  Molly smiled. “Nice c
atch.”

  “While we’re waiting,” I said. “We need to decide where we’re going next.”

  “Ultima Thule,” said Molly. “For the Lady Faire’s annual Ball, at the Winter Palace.”

  “Well, yes,” I said. “But we can’t go there directly. Far too many shields in place. Ultima Thule is a world within a world, a private reality, with all the ways in and out carefully configured and heavily guarded.”

  “Too much even for the Merlin Glass?”

  “The Winter Palace is supposed to be hard to get to,” I said carefully. “That’s why it’s so popular as an exclusive retreat. For the kind of people who don’t want to be interrupted in their very private pleasures. The Merlin Glass might be powerful enough to punch through all the shields and protections, but that would undoubtedly set off all kinds of alarms and bring the guards running. Or everyone might just pack up and leave, so they were all long gone when we got there. We can’t risk that. So we need a sneaky way in. One that won’t be noticed. We need a dimensional Door.”

  “You’ve been thinking about this,” Molly said accusingly. “In fact, you are giving every indication of being downright devious and cunning. I approve.”

  “Good to know,” I said. “One of the things I’ve been thinking about is that some unknown person has been providing unauthorised people with Doors that open onto Drood grounds. Which is not only never allowed, but is supposed to be impossible. Which means . . . whoever is providing these Doors must be a master at his work.”

  “Sounds like the Doormouse to me,” Molly said immediately.

  I looked sternly at her. “You just made that name up!”

  “I did not! The Doormouse has been a fixture in the Nightside for ages, at his House of Doors. He’s a master craftsman, making dimensional Doors to order.”