I had to smile. “Something like that, yes.”
“I always thought there must be,” said Molly. “I really should get around to stealing it. You know I can’t stand other people knowing things I don’t.”
“On principle?” I said.
“No, because it might be knowledge I can sell! Do try to keep up with the rest of us, Eddie.”
“The book, not surprisingly, is currently locked away in the Old Library,” I said. “Behind the kind of protections that would make even the Pook think twice about bothering them.”
Molly grinned at me. “Now, you know I love a challenge. Did this book have anything to say about the Demon Droods and the Angelic Droods?”
“No,” I said. “But, then, I hadn’t gotten half-way through it before suddenly I wasn’t in charge any more.”
“Only because you agreed to step down,” said Molly.
“It was the right thing to do,” I said. “Just because you’re a good agent out in the field doesn’t mean you can be good at everything. I had the best of intentions, but I forgot which road is paved with them. I had to get out, after what happened during our war with the Hungry Gods.”
“We won that war!” said Molly.
“But a lot of good men and women in the family died because of the decisions I made.”
“You’d have gotten better at it,” said Molly. “In time.”
“And how many more Droods would have died while I was busy becoming the kind of man I never wanted to be, anyway?”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” said Molly. “There are more than enough people here ready to do that for you.” She sighed heavily and looked around for something she could use to change the subject. “It’s very . . . quiet, isn’t it? With all your family outside.”
“Very peaceful,” I said. “I’ve always said Drood Hall would be a very desirable residence, if it weren’t for all the Droods living in it.”
“Why are you still scowling?” said Molly. “The emergency’s over.”
“Is it?” I said. “I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. The out-of-this-world, more-than-human, really-bad-news shoe to drop.”
“You mean the Angelic Droods.”
“Got it in one,” I said.
“But they’ve been pushed back outside of reality again,” said Molly. “Along with everything else. Haven’t they?”
“When I asked Peter about them,” I said quietly, “he wouldn’t answer me. He could have said any number of things to reassure me, but he didn’t. Because he knew I’d know a lie when I heard one. Which leads me to believe this problem isn’t anywhere near over yet.”
“You think he knows more than he’s saying?” said Molly.
“A very-secret agent would know all kinds of things that he might not want to share with anyone else,” I said.
“Want me to beat them out of him?”
“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”
“Spoil-sport.” Molly scowled thoughtfully at Peter’s back. “It’s always possible the Angelic Droods just up and left a long time ago. I can’t see anything truly angelic wanting to hang around your family for long.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But in my experience, it doesn’t matter whether you’re talking about angels from Above or Below: They’re always going to be a cause for concern.”
“Angels are a pain in the arse,” said Molly. “They never know when to stop.”
Something in the way she said that made me look at her.
“Of course!” I said. “You were there when angels came to the Nightside from Heaven and Hell! They took the whole place apart, searching for the Unholy Grail—the cup that Judas drank from at the Last Supper. Allegedly. I always thought that was just an urban legend.”
“Doesn’t stop people wanting it,” said Molly. “And some things aren’t even a little bit people. I was never more scared in my life . . . The angel war was years ago, but they’re still rebuilding parts of the Nightside.”
“Just another of the many fascinating stories from your past that somehow you never get around to telling me about.”
“Look,” said Molly, “sufficient unto the day, and all that. We have enough problems on our plate as it is.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“Of course I am!” Molly said brightly. “I’m always right. You should know that by now.”
• • •
We reached the main entrance hall and headed for the front door. Peter was actually reaching for the door handle when he stopped abruptly, and his old head came up like that of a hound scenting something disturbing on the air. I hurried forward to join him, while Molly looked quickly around in case there was something that needed hitting.
“What is it?” I said quietly to Peter.
“Listen,” he said. “Can’t you hear it?”
I concentrated, and the sound of raised voices came clearly to me from the other side of the door. An awful lot of people shouting wildly, desperate to make themselves heard, and panicking for really good reasons. And these were Droods; trained from childhood to face the worst this world and others had to offer. What could be so bad that it could reduce people like them to such a state? I shook my head disgustedly. I had a pretty good idea.
“Talk to me, Peter,” I said harshly. “It’s the Angelic Droods, isn’t it?”
“I hoped I was wrong,” said Peter. He sounded lost, defeated, and more than ever he looked like the very old man he was. “I really wanted to be wrong about this, but I think they’re back.”
“Give it to us straight,” said Molly. “What happened to the Angelic Droods all those years ago? Did they just up and leave?”
“Did they jump?” I said. “Or were they pushed?”
“They helped save the family from the Demon Droods,” Peter said tiredly. “They showed the Armourer how to fashion the Grim Gulf, and then helped the family force the Demon Droods inside it. But after that, the story gets confused. Some say the Angelic Droods chose to leave because they were too good for this family. Others say the family tried to imprison the Angels, because if the Demons turned on them, the Angels might too. And some say the family were forced to banish the Angelic Droods, because they wanted to go forth into the world and judge Humanity, once and for all. So many stories, and no one knows the truth. But now the Demon Droods are finally dead . . . maybe the Angelic Droods have taken that as a sign, to come home and take care of unfinished business.”
“That’s a hell of a lot of ifs and maybes,” said Molly. “I thought you Droods knew everything!”
“That’s just a rumour we spread,” I said. “So everyone else will stay worried. What do you think, Peter? What is the truth?”
“I don’t know!” said Peter. “Nobody knows! The family buried some of its secrets so deep, not even the people in charge can be sure of what really happened. But if the Angelic Droods have returned . . .”
“They’re out there right now, aren’t they?” I said.
“Can’t you feel their presence?” said Peter, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Can’t you feel the world buckling under the weight of them?”
“Okay,” said Molly. “Someone needs some time out, and a nice furry animal to hug.”
I looked at the closed door before me. I could feel . . . something.
“We need to go out there,” I said. “See for ourselves what’s happening.”
“Damn right,” said Molly. “The Demon Droods were actually sort of cool; I can’t wait to see what Angelic Droods look like.”
None of us moved.
“Why won’t the past stay past?” said Peter.
“Because it isn’t over until we say it is,” I said.
I opened the door. If only because the thought of what might be outside was making me hesitate. Drood field agents can’t afford to hesitate. I
t’s our job to go rushing in where any angel in its right mind would take some serious time to think it over. It’s our duty to always be ready to take care of business. So I strode through the front door, doing my best to look like I knew what I was doing. It helped that Molly was there with me. Peter brought up the rear, muttering to himself again.
• • •
My entire family stood gathered together in front of the Hall, their heads tilted back as they stared up into the sky. They’d stopped shouting for the moment, struck dumb by the glory of what they were looking at. I looked up too, and my heart lurched as I took in the thirteen figures hovering above us, shining bright as the sun. Perfect, idealised human forms in golden armour, with massive golden wings unfurled from their backs. The wings didn’t flap, because they weren’t responsible for holding the figures up. They just hung there, unmoving, nailed on the sky by the sheer force of their being. As though they belonged in the heavens, above all lesser things. The sheer spiritual presence of them was staggering, overwhelming. As though the stars themselves had fallen out of the heavens and come down to pass judgement on us.
The Angelic Droods.
And yet they didn’t feel like a force for Good, as such. Theirs was a more elemental nature. Beyond simple things like Law or Justice, or anything a mere human could hope to comprehend. I could tell just from looking at them that they knew nothing of mercy, compassion, or understanding. They would do what they would do, and nothing any of us could say would stop them or turn them aside. They were a force in the world, wild and unknowable and unimaginably dangerous.
Typical angels, really. Or Droods.
Staring up at the Angelic Droods, my family talked quietly among themselves now, trying to understand what they were looking at. A few shouted questions at the Matriarch, or requests for orders, but she just stared up at the glowing golden figures, saying nothing, as though it was all just too much for her. The Sarjeant-at-Arms stood beside her, scowling fiercely at the sky. He had a really big gun in each hand, and looked extremely ready to use them. It would take a lot more than Angels to impress the Sarjeant. Maxwell and Victoria were browbeating their lab assistants into ignoring the Angels and building something protective and punitive out of the various bits and pieces of tech they had with them.
“So, this is the result of an alchemical marriage between Droods and the forces of Heaven,” I said.
“I thought they’d be taller,” said Molly.
“You can feel the power coming off them,” I said. “Even more so than the Demon Droods. Which is . . . interesting.”
“They’re back,” said Peter. “After all these years . . .”
“If these are forces from Heaven,” I said, “shouldn’t they be on our side? Technically speaking?”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” said Peter. “But angels aren’t on anyone’s side. That’s the point. They only exist to enforce God’s will on Earth. Except . . .”
“Except?” said Molly. “Except what? Come on, you can’t just stop there!”
“Angels are God’s will made manifest,” said Peter. “Heaven’s stormtroopers. When God wants something done right now, and no arguments. Normally angels have no will of their own, as we would understand it. They’re just here to smite the bad guys and walk right over anyone who gets in their way. But these aren’t the real deal. After what they were put through, they’re more than human but less than divine. Caught half-way between this world and the next. Who knows how they think or whose will they follow?”
“You know,” Molly said to me quietly, “I think I felt better before he explained things.”
“I’m more concerned with where they’ve been all these years,” I said. “And what they’ve been doing. Why hadn’t we heard of them before this? Something as powerful and downright scary as Angelic Droods should have made a real impression, even in the hidden world.”
“Right,” said Molly. “I would have heard. And I didn’t. Which is spooky . . .”
“I have to talk to the Matriarch,” I said. “She needs to know what this is all about, what it means.”
“Assuming she doesn’t already know,” said Molly. “She’s had more than enough time to work her way through that big book of yours.”
“Some things are never written down,” said Peter.
“And after I’ve finished briefing the Matriarch . . . I’m going to talk to the Angelic Droods,” I said.
“Okay, hold everything and throw it into reverse,” said Molly. “In what part of your brain did that sound like a good idea? Those things hanging on the sky do not look like they’re at all interested in holding a conversation.”
“They’re probably just shy,” I said. “Looking for someone to break the ice.”
“Angels destroy cities and wipe out the firstborn of a generation,” said Molly. “They do not do shy.”
“I still have to try,” I said. “Because Droods shouldn’t kill Droods.”
Molly scowled. “Knew I should have hung on to that wand.”
“Unless you were planning to stab one of the Angels with it, I doubt they’d even notice,” I said. “Are you with me or not?”
“Of course I’m with you! I just think we should talk this through before we commit ourselves to something we probably won’t have time to regret for very long! And yes, I know how that sounds coming from me, which should give you some idea of just how much those golden bastards are freaking me out!”
“Needs must, when Heaven’s in the driving seat,” I said.
“Oh, very deep,” said Molly. “Put that on Twitter, and see how fast it trends.”
I looked at her calmly. “I do not tweet. With the kind of life I lead and the comments I make, I’d start wars. Do you tweet?”
“When would I have the time?”
“You do realise we’re only talking like this to put off doing what we know we have to do?”
“I know that,” said Molly. “I just wondered if you did.”
“Atomic batteries to power; turbines to speed,” I said. “Everything forward and trust in the Lord.”
“This can only go well,” said Molly.
I started forward, and then stopped as I realised Peter wasn’t moving. I looked at him, and he stared back defiantly.
“You don’t need me for this.”
“You know more about the Angelic Droods than we do,” I said.
“Which gives me more reason than most to be wary of them,” said Peter. “The kind of life I’ve led does not make me at all keen to attract Heaven’s attention.”
“I am not letting you disappear back into the family again,” I said firmly. “It’s time for the last of the very-secret agents to come in from the cold and share his secrets. Because those golden thugs hanging up there are what happens when you don’t. You need to tell the Matriarch everything you know about the Angelic Droods, if the family is to survive this. Now move it! Or I’ll have Molly motivate you, in her own distinct and highly disturbing way.”
“Love to,” said Molly.
Peter sighed heavily, and went with us to talk to the Matriarch.
• • •
Once again the Droods crowded together before the Hall let me pass without even noticing I was there. They stood silently, heads tilted back, fascinated by the golden figures hovering over them. I could understand that. The closer I got to the Angelic Droods, the more intense their presence became. Looking directly at them was like staring into the sun—but you still didn’t want to look away. The Angels were simply too perfect for this limited physical world.
They had none of the bodily distortions of the Demon Droods. All thirteen Angels had the simple perfection of classical statues. Only struck in gold, with featureless faces and massive, wide-spread wings. Everything about them held the eye, controlling the attention, demanding their every detail be studied and appreciated. I felt
like I could look at them forever.
People I passed made vague sounds of awe and wonder. I was having trouble looking away, even to see where I was going. I wondered if this was how mice felt when confronted by the snakes that fascinated them, before they struck. That thought did the trick. I dragged my gaze away from the Angels through an effort of will, and concentrated on my torc. A thin stream of golden strange matter leapt up from my torc to cover my eyes with a pair of golden sunglasses, and just like that the fascination was gone. The Angelic Droods were still impressive, and obviously very dangerous. But I was a Drood. I dealt with impressive and dangerous every day, and sent them home, crying to their mothers. I pushed my way through the crowd, shouting at everyone to armour up.
“Pull yourselves together! The Angelic Droods are putting out some kind of signal to overwhelm us! Use your armour to cover your eyes, and break the signal! Do it!”
One by one people around me activated their torcs, calling up everything from golden sunglasses to full face masks, and immediately a babble of voices broke out as everyone realised how badly they’d been affected.
“Get ahold of yourselves!” I yelled. “We are Droods! We don’t bow down to anyone!”
By the time I reached the Matriarch, the whole crowd was seeing the Angels with new eyes and being very vocal about it. If the Angelic Droods had been hovering any lower, some of the crowd would have reached up to snag one by the ankle, drag it down out of the sky, and express their extreme displeasure to it. But throughout the growing clamour and all the sounds of anger, the Angels didn’t react at all. The Matriarch regarded them carefully through a pair of very stylish golden sunglasses, and only nodded to me briefly as I joined her.
“Good work, Eddie. It felt like I was drowning in them, and going down for the third time. While they made me love it . . . the bastards.”
“Give me the word, Matriarch, and I will blow them out of the sky,” said the Sarjeant, hefting his guns hopefully.
“No you won’t,” I said quickly.
I explained who the Angelic Droods were and what their presence probably meant. The Matriarch just nodded occasionally. I couldn’t tell how much she already knew. She glanced once at Peter, but neither of them said anything. Maxwell and Victoria came over to join us, determined not to be left out. They were both wearing full face masks above their immaculate white lab coats. The Sarjeant stirred uneasily as I talked with the Matriarch, keeping both of his guns trained steadily on the Angels. It was a part of his office that he was able to summon guns into his hands out of nowhere. I didn’t recognise the ones he was currently holding, but they looked like they could blow holes through anything even remotely physical. Though whether they could do anything against Droods transformed by the engines of Heaven . . .
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