Good, I said. Good idea, Molly. The strange matter in the torc should also help to keep the rogue armour in its place.
But, Eddie, listen to me! This is important. I ve no idea how long your torc will be able to control the armour, even with my magics support. We are in unknown territory here. It could last for days or weeks or just a few hours.
Got it, I said. I didn t tell her it didn t matter. That I would wear the armour for as long as I needed to find my family. And worry about everything else afterwards.
So, said Molly. What does it feel like wearing Moxton s armour?
Cold, I said immediately, before I could stop myself. Very cold and inhuman But it ll do the job and that s all that matters. I realised Molly was looking at me oddly. What?
When you came out of the Maze, wearing that armour You didn t look anything like you usually do. You didn t even look like a Drood. I don t know what Moxton based his designs on, but I don t think it was anything human. She scowled, searching for the right words. The way you were moving, the impression you gave I wasn t sure there was anything inside the armour.
It s still me, Molly, I said. I m still here.
Not when you re wearing that armour, you re not. I can tell.
I need it, Molly. Can t do the job without it.
I know. But once this is over, first chance you get, ditch the bloody thing.
Hush, I said quietly. I think it s listening.
Things just get better all the time, said Molly.
So, what now?
We need answers, I said. We need hard information as to exactly what went down here and who was behind it. Someone out there will know. Someone always knows. But where do we go to ask? Time was, we d have just dropped into the Wulfshead Club, that celebrated supernatural watering hole, paid for a round for the house, and they d have been lining up to tell us everything we needed to know. But I m pretty sure I m persona non grata there, after the recent unpleasantness.
You mean when you completely lost control, beat up everyone who got in your way and half killed your old friend the Indigo Spirit? said Molly. Oh, hell, yes, Eddie. They re still talking about that, and not in a good way. You are banned from the Wulfshead for life, Eddie Drood, and possibly even longer than that.
But that s just Eddie Drood, I said, craftily. I could still sneak in as Shaman Bond, couldn t I?
I wouldn t, said Molly. I really wouldn t. Take it from me: That boat has sailed. Far too many people in that place now know Eddie and Shaman are the same man. No one s actually given you up yet, but you can bet good money there d be a race to drop you right in it if you were to push your luck. Give them time to calm down, and they might let you back in as Shaman. But right now the very least they d do is set the hellhounds on you and blow your secret identity right out of the water.
But they will calm down? I said. Eventually?
Who can say?
I looked at her thoughtfully. You could always
No, I couldn t, said Molly. I m banned, as well, just for knowing you.
Ah, I said. Sorry about that.
Don t be! I m not. Never cared much for the Wulfshead, anyway. Bit too elevated for my tastes. And it s gone so upmarket these days so up itself it s practically staring out its own nostrils. And the bar prices suck big-time.
I smiled. Molly can be very loyal in her own way. So, where do we go for answers?
There s always the Nightside.
No there isn t, I said, very firmly.
Oh, come on, Eddie! I know there are long-standing pacts between your family and the Nightside, keeping you all out for reasons I have never had properly explained. But that can t apply now, when you re the only Drood left!
Nothing s changed, I said. If I did go in there, on my own, in defiance of the pacts, they d come straight at me with malice aforethought. And, anyway, I don t want anyone in the Nightside knowing my family isn t around anymore. You couldn t hope to ask questions and still keep it quiet. I don t want the world knowing the Droods aren t in charge anymore. When the Droods are away, the rats will run riot.
I could go into the Nightside, said Molly.
I ve got lots of contacts there. Not very nice contacts, perhaps, but I m sure they d give me all kinds of help once I started banging heads against walls.
No, I said. They d only wonder why I wasn t with you, start asking questions of their own and we d be back where we started.
You don t trust me on my own in the Nightside, with all its temptations. Do you?
No, I bloody don t.
Molly smiled, satisfied.
We both stood around for a while, trying to think of somewhere we could go, of people who might be persuaded to tell us useful things if we were insistent enough, in an intimidating sort of way. But approaching any of the usual unusual suspects would be bound to raise more questions than answers. The truth about my family s situation was bound to get out sooner or later, but I didn t want to do anything that would make it sooner rather than later. I needed time to get to the truth and whoever was behind it.
We could always go into London, down Grafton Way, Molly said tentatively. Pay a polite and very under-the-radar visit to the Order of Beyond. We did go there once before, remember, when we were trying to track down Mr. Stab.
I remember, I said. The Order of Beyond rounds up people who ve been possessed by all the various forces from outside and then locks them up in cages and listens to them. Because the possessed do so love to talk. The Order slips in a few pointed questions from time to time, and sells whatever answers they get to the highest bidder. (You can subscribe to their monthly newsletter for the more basic stuff. I ve never been tempted.)
I don t think so, I said finally.
We wouldn t learn anything we wanted to hear from those sources. Hell always lies.
Except when a truth can hurt you more.
Exactly.
All right. You suggest someone!
How about the Middle Man? I said, just a bit diffidently. He wouldn t know who was behind something as big as this, but he d almost certainly be able to point us in the direction of someone who would. For the right price, of course.
Eddie, he hates your family. You know that. You even hint at what s happened to them and he d break every record there is getting the news out to absolutely everyone. He loathes and despises everything Drood, and with more good reason than most.
We are a much-misunderstood family, I said.
Oh no, you aren t.
Well, who is there we can safely talk to? I said.
Who is there we can trust with this information?
We need my sisters, said Molly, in her best Yes, I know, but don t argue with me tone of voice. We need Isabella and Louisa. They might not know who s behind all this, but they have contacts in places I wouldn t even dare show my face. And they d be more than happy to kick the crap out of people on our behalf. Well, on my behalf. I don t think they ve quite made up their minds about you yet. But they d do it for me.
Sisters, sisters, such devoted sisters
Shut up, Eddie. No one would suspect anything if Isabella and Louisa were to go looking for information about the Hall and your family. They re always looking into things they re not supposed to know about.
I hate to say it, I said. But you may be right.
Molly frowned dangerously. What s wrong with getting my sisters involved?
Since you ask, everything. Isabella, no problem. Arrogant and a pain in the arse, but she gets the job done. The Indiana Jones of the supernatural world, always sticking her nose in where it s not wanted, digging up ancient history, hidden truths and things the world is not ready to know yet while sneaking off with as much historical loot as she can carry. Isabella, I can deal with. But Louisa? She s got a worse reputation than you. Or me. Or Mr. Stab, the as-yet-uncaught immortal serial killer of Old London Town. Everyone s scared of Louisa Metcalf, and with good reason.
Exactly! said Molly. Who s going to say no to her when she starts asking questions
?
All right, I said. I just know I m going to regret this, but go ahead and contact them.
Ah, said Molly. I already tried. They re not answering. They ve both got their auras turned off. Why would they do that?
They re your sisters, I said.
I could think of any number of reasons why the infamous Metcalf sisters would want to be off the radar, just off the top of my head but I had enough sense not to say so. Every now and again I think I m getting the hang of this relationship thing.
But if both my sisters are out of touch, for the time being we re right back where we started, said Molly.
Who can we turn to for help? Most of our old friends and allies are dead or missing in action and presumed dead or just in hiding, after all the heavy dramas we ve been through recently.
That s what comes of dragging them into our wars, I agreed. We are not safe to be around. I think we re going to have to go looking for the few Droods we know are still left alive in this world. I m pretty sure there aren t any agents left out in the field; we called in absolutely everyone for our last few wars.
Including the ones who didn t want to come? said Molly.
Oh, those most of all, I said. No, I m talking about the rogues. Those members of the family who ran away or were kicked out or went to ground to escape our justice. Our punishment for their crimes against Humanity.
You re being a bit hard on the rogues, aren t you? said Molly. Considering you were one. She looked distinctly amused.
That was different, I said with some dignity.
I was only on the run because I d been falsely accused.
And because your grandmother wanted you dead.
Well, yes, in a complicated sort of way. The point is, some of the rogues are more dangerous than others. When Droods go bad, we go really bad.
You really think the rogues would talk to you if you could find them? said Molly, wrinkling her perfect nose.
I mean, I hate to be the one to point this out, Eddie, but you have killed rogue Droods in your time. Arnold Drood, the Bloody Man, and Tiger Tim
I didn t kill them, I said. I executed them. Because they earned it.
And yet, strangely, I don t see that argument going down terribly well with the other rogues when you catch up with them. If I were one and I saw you walking up my front path, I think I d set fire to my own house and shoot myself in the head, just to get it over with. On the other hand I know a few rogue Droods. Sort of. They might be willing to talk to me, where they wouldn t want anything to do with you.
You know everyone, don t you? I said admiringly. And mostly not in a good way. You ve done deals with rogue Droods in the past, haven t you?
I was at war with your family, said Molly.
And when you re at war, you go looking for allies. This was all long before I hooked up with you, Eddie.
Even so, I said. You can bet they know about you and me now. And that you re no longer at war with the Droods. You still think they d talk to you?
They ll tell me anything I want to know, if they know what s good for them, Molly said firmly. She paused as a thought struck her. I could practically see the wheels turning. Wouldn t the rogue Droods be happy to hear that the Hall and the family are gone? They d finally be free to emerge from the shadows or whatever holes they ve been hiding in, and come out into the world again. No more looking over their shoulders all the time for someone like you
You d think so, wouldn t you? I said. But no. They ll be far more interested in having the family back so they can get their armour back. With Ethel gone, they re all suddenly as vulnerable and helpless as I was. No, they might not be part of the family anymore, but they still like being Droods, with all the power and privilege that comes from wearing the torc.
Hold it. Are you telling me that Ethel gave all the rogues new strange-matter torcs, along with everyone else? said Molly.
I did argue very strongly against it, I said.
But Ethel was very firm on the subject and would not be moved. Either everyone in the family got one or no one did. Sometimes there s just no arguing with the whims of an immensely powerful other-dimensional entity.
That might be enough to put pressure on the rogues, said Molly. And then she stopped and looked at me carefully. There is one very powerful rogue Drood that we could call on. I suppose. Someone in Ethel s league. The one you told me about. The one the family buried long ago, deep in the permafrost under Tunguska
Gerard Drood, I said. Grendel Rex. The Unforgiven God. No, Molly. Things haven t got that bad yet. In fact, I think the whole world would have to be ending before I even considered disturbing him again. And even then I d think twice.
But
No, Molly. I didn t tell you the whole story about Grendel Rex because I wanted you to be able to sleep nights. I didn t tell you everything about what happened in Tunguska, either, for the same reason. If the Unforgiven God ever wakes up, if he ever breaks the chains we bound him with and rises it would take the whole family and every other group of power we could bring on board to put him down again. He is the end of the world just waiting to happen.
All right, then Heading a hell of a long way in the other direction to the most harmless rogue Drood I know What about the Mole?
I looked at her sharply. I thought you said he d disappeared. Gone deep underground, dropped into a hole and then pulled it in after him?
Well, yes, but there s disappeared and then there s disappeared, said Molly. I haven t a clue where to look for him, but I m sure if I put the word out, he d hear it eventually. Just because he s stopped talking doesn t mean he s stopped listening. And who else is there who has access to as much information as he does?
To get the news to him, it would have to pass through too many people, I said. No way we could control it. I can t have that, Molly. The Mole is out.
Well, who else is there that we know of? Molly said impatiently. Sebastian is dead, murdered. Freddie is missing in action, presumed dead. Arrabella fell into a mirror and never came out again. What other rogues do you know?
I m not as up-to-date as I should be, I admitted. I haven t kept up on the files or any of the required reading since I got involved in running the wars against the Hungry Gods and the Immortals and the Great Satanic Conspiracy. There s only so many hours in the day. I concentrated, organising my thoughts. There s old Mother Shipton, last heard of running a baby-cloning clinic in Vienna. Nasty piece of work. Manfred Drood was last heard of in Moscow, running the Baba Yaga Irregulars. Fighting Russian supernatural crime, for a healthy profit. I doubt we could afford him. Then there s Anastasia Drood, last heard of in darkest Peru. And if she really is doing what she s supposed to be doing down there, I will kill her dead before I ever willingly exchange a word with her.
There are always stories and rumours of other rogue Droods, under this grand-sounding alias or that. Good and bad and in between The details and locations are always changing, scattered across the world. And the family just doesn t care enough to check them all out. Besides, we might need them someday. The family can be very pragmatic about some things. The whole point of being a rogue Drood is to never be who or what or where the family thinks you are. If only so they won t send someone like me to come and drive a stake through your rotten heart.
What about your late uncle James s many and varied illegitimate offspring? said Molly. The Grey Bastards?
Them? They re never on anyone s side but their own! I did think about it for a moment, which only goes to show how desperate I was. The family has always employed as many of them as we can, from a distance, if only to keep them from straying and falling under bad influences. But I wouldn t trust a single one of them farther than I could throw them into the wind with both hands tied behind my back. No, Molly. Much as I hate to admit it, there s only one rogue Drood we can go to. The most infamous rogue of all. The Regent of Shadows.
What? Hold everything. Go previous. Wipe my face with a cold sponge, said Molly. He s a rogue Drood? The Regent of Sh
adows, the secret master of hidden information is just another member of your extended family? No one ever told me that! Of course, your family never tells me anything it doesn t absolutely have to. I mean I ve heard of the Regent of Shadows everyone has. Runs his own secret organisation, beholden to no one, gathering information in all the areas no one else wants to admit even exist. Tell me, Eddie: Why is it that whenever anyone in your family even mentions him, someone else always says, We don t talk about him!?
I don t know! I said. They don t talk about him! I only know he s a rogue Drood because I used to run this family. Briefly. And even then you d be surprised at the sheer number of things I ve found out since that they thought I didn t need to know.
No, I wouldn t, said Molly. Nothing surprises me about your family anymore.
Smugness does not become you, Molly.
How are we supposed to find the secretive and almost legendary Regent of Shadows, anyway? Put an ad in The Times?
I haven t the faintest idea where to look, I said. I was hoping you d have some ideas.
She thought about it, frowning fiercely. We need a source of information that no one else would expect us to go to, who wouldn t sell us out or spread the story to unfriendly ears. That narrows the field considerably but if it s just information you re after, I may know someone. She s a hell of a way off the beaten track, by her own decision, and really small-time, because that s the way she likes it so we should be able to consult her without even being noticed.
Sounds good so far, I said. Who are we talking about?
And then we both stopped and looked round sharply. There was the growing sound of approaching engines coming right up the main drive, by the sound of it. I was off and running immediately, with Molly right there at my side. I had no idea who it might be or what they wanted, but I didn t care. A threat to the Hall and its grounds always takes precedence. And I was just in the mood to be distracted from my many problems.
Whoever it is, they re not on the guest list, I said to Molly. No one is allowed in here until we ve got the family back in residence again.
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