“What if something gets dropped off here that is seriously, world-shatteringly dangerous?” said Molly, following my thoughts as always.
“There’s a cellar deep beneath the Museum, in its own pocket dimension,” I said. “The entrance is a strictly one-way affair; anything can get in, but nothing gets out.”
Molly thought about it. “But what if someone decides one of these seriously dangerous items is needed after all?”
“That’s when my family gets the call,” I said. “And the Armourer gets to earn their pay.”
“So, what would it take,” said Molly, “to free Grendel Rex from his tomb? Hypothetically speaking?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said. “Technically speaking, he isn’t really in his tomb. As in, not physically present. Otherwise it would be far too easy for some damned fool to just dig him up. The Unforgiven God is actually imprisoned in a separate pocket dimension. The tomb just holds the only access point.”
“Tell me at least the chains are real,” said Molly.
“Very real,” I said. “Strong enough to bind and hold him till Judgement Day and beyond.”
Molly glared round the Old Curiosities Room. “There’s nothing here, Eddie. Are we going to have to search every room in the Museum?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. I leaned in close, quite casually, so I could murmur in her ear. “We’re not alone. I keep catching glimpses of something moving out of the corner of my mind’s eye. Good thing I kept the golden sunglasses on. Someone is hiding from us behind a glamour strong enough to fool anything except strange-matter armour. I think Edmund is right here in the room with us, keeping very quiet in the hope we’ll just go away and leave him. So he can finish whatever it is he’s doing.”
Molly let her gaze drift casually back and forth. “Okay, that’s sneaky.”
“Do you have a spell to reveal hidden things?”
She scowled at me. “You know I do, but I don’t know if I’ve got enough strength left to power it. Using it could wipe me out. If you’re wrong . . .”
“I’m not wrong.”
“I’d better find something in here to fire up my engines,” Molly said grimly. “Because I really am running on fumes now.”
She clenched her fists, scowling fiercely. And Edmund snapped into view, standing not twenty feet away, bent over a display case and fiddling with the lock. I called out his name and he looked round, startled. He straightened up sharply before striking a casual pose and nodding to me calmly.
“Eddie! How are you? Still dying?”
“Eddie,” said Molly, “what’s he messing with there?”
I didn’t need to see the sign to recognise what was in the display case. Because all Drood field agents are required to study up on important things that have been stolen from the family.
“That is the Immaculate Key,” I said. “Doesn’t look like much, does it? Just an old-fashioned metal key. But that simple object is the Art of Unlocking—a concept cast in metal, a function given shape and form. A key to open any lock, spring any trap, break any binding.”
“That’s the Key?” said Molly. “I’ve been looking for that for years!”
“Concentrate, Molly. The Key is exactly what Edmund needs to free Grendel Rex from his tomb.”
“What’s it doing here?”
“A question my family will quite definitely be taking up with the Wulfshead Management,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Molly, raising her voice as she glared at Edmund. “The Key isn’t a weapon, so that little shit is going down. Right now.”
“How unkind,” murmured Edmund. “Anyone would think you weren’t glad to see me. But . . . Hello, I must be going.”
He armoured up, smashed the display case with one golden hand, and snatched the Immaculate Key. All kinds of alarms started screaming hysterically, and a large, futuristic energy gun dropped down out of the ceiling. The long crystal barrel opened fire immediately with raging energy beams. I armoured up and moved quickly to put myself between the gun and Molly. The crackling energies hit me right on the chest and ricocheted away, smashing a dozen tables and setting fire to their contents. A second beam hit me on the shoulder, trying for Molly, and shot off down an empty aisle. The third beam hit Edmund squarely in the back as he ran down the aisle, hard enough to knock him off his feet and send him skidding along the floor. He was on his feet again in a moment, apparently unharmed. He thrust the Immaculate Key through the side of his armour and into a pocket beneath, and then looked quickly around for the door. Molly started to move out from behind me, and the energy gun in the ceiling swung round to target her.
“Shield yourself!” I said.
“I can’t! I don’t have enough magics left!”
“Then hide behind something solid! I can’t protect you and go after Edmund!”
Molly ducked behind a tall standing cabinet containing a suit of medieval armour. Its burnished steel was covered in deeply engraved Enochian curses. Molly gestured at me angrily.
“Go get him, Eddie!”
The energy gun opened fire on the cabinet. Molly squatted down, and the cabinet soaked up the energy beam. The suit of armour convulsed, as though it had been shocked awake, and brandished its steel arms in protest. Steel fists smashed against the inside of the cabinet, but the glass held. I headed straight for Edmund, and he turned to face me.
We slammed together like two golden statues, trading blows strong enough to move mountains. We raged up and down the aisle, wrestling with each other, smashing priceless and irreplaceable items as we surged back and forth. I didn’t feel the impact of his blows, and I didn’t think he felt mine, but still we struck at each other with all the strength our armours could provide. The golden strange matter rang like bells as we landed blow after blow, but we couldn’t hurt each other. We smashed our way through display cases and overturned standing cabinets full of treasures. Trestle tables collapsed, and the wonders of the world were trampled underfoot as we ploughed through everything that got in our way. Leaving a trail of wreckage and devastation because we couldn’t see anything but each other.
The world can be a very fragile place, when Droods go to war.
Wild energies went streaking through the room as their receptacles were destroyed. Magics ran loose as their bindings were broken. Things came alive, or turned into other things, and ran madly up and down the aisles. I caught a glimpse of the medieval armour smashing its way out of the cabinet and then turning on Molly. Edmund took advantage of my momentary distraction to grab me with both hands, lift me off my feet, and throw me half-way down the room.
I hit hard, tucked, and rolled, and was back on my feet in a moment. Just in time to see Molly snatch up a pointing bone from a nearby table and stab it at the suit of armour. Its metal head blew right off, revealing the armour to be entirely uninhabited. Molly thrust the bone at it again, and the whole suit exploded, scattering twitching metal pieces the length of the aisle. The energy gun swung round to target her again, and she was forced to shelter behind the remains of the standing cabinet. Edmund was running for the door. I went after him.
Edmund barely made it half-way to the door before a stuffed werewolf leapt out of its shattered diorama and landed on his shoulders. The sheer weight of the thing spun Edmund around and threw him off balance. The werewolf clung on grimly, stuffing falling out of holes in its mangy hide as it cut viciously but uselessly at Edmund’s golden armour with long, curved claws. Dust fell from its empty eyes like ancient tears. Edmund sank his golden fingers deep into the furry hide and tore the werewolf in half. Stuffing flew on the air, and the two parts fell some distance apart, to scrabble helplessly on the floor.
A shop-window dummy with a half-melted face and the uniform of a World War I soldier blocked my way and stabbed me in the gut with the bayonet on its rifle. The steel blade shattered against my armour, and
I sent the dummy flying backwards with one sweep of my arm. I raced down the aisle after Edmund. He checked the distance to the door, saw he’d never make it in time, and turned to face me. And still the energy gun in the ceiling fired again and again, targeting first me and then Edmund, doing neither of us any damage but destroying everything around us with its ricochets.
Fires had broken out all over the Old Curiosities Room. Restraints were broken, and ancient locks blew apart. Things woke up, shook off their shackles, and went staggering down the aisles, driven on by long-unsatisfied needs and hungers. The energy gun stopped firing at me and Edmund and concentrated on blasting the exhibits, one after another. Because as far as the room’s security systems were concerned, the exhibits were what mattered. They were the prisoners, and the gun was the guard. It was putting down a jail-break. I grinned at Edmund behind my featureless mask. My death’s-head grin. Edmund was mine, and I was damned if I would let anything get between him and me.
And that was when a pair of inhumanly strong arms closed around me from behind and held me close, while a soft, malignant voice murmured in my ear.
“Oh, Eddie, my joy, my love . . . You’ve come back to me. I always knew you would.”
I froze. My heart missed a beat. I knew that voice. It was the voice of the Dead Drood, the mummified creature my family had given over into the Museum’s keeping all those years ago. Because it insisted on living long after it should have admitted it was dead. The exhibit that tried to make me its own the last time I was here.
“Eddie. Darling. You’ve come home.”
I looked down at the bandage-wrapped arms encircling me. And decided I didn’t have time for this. I broke their hold with a surge from my golden arms, spun round, and hit the thing in the head with a spiked golden fist. The sheer strength of the blow smashed in one side of its bandaged face and almost ripped the mummy’s head off its shoulders. It staggered backwards, crying out with angry thwarted feelings. I didn’t know how it had put itself back together again after everything I did to it last time, but back then I’d only had Heart armour. The mummy cocked its ruined head to one side and extended its bandaged arms appealingly.
“Don’t fight me, Eddie. You know we belong together. Just give in, be mine, and we can live forever . . .”
“I didn’t believe you then,” I said steadily, “and I don’t believe you now. You’re not alive. Just an unquiet spirit possessing a body held together by bandages. A Drood who didn’t have the guts to lie down and get it over with. I’m nothing like you.”
“But I can make you like me, darling.”
“I’d rather die,” I said.
“We always hurt the ones we love,” said the Dead Drood.
I surged forward, caught the mummy by surprise, picked it up, and threw it at the ceiling-mounted energy gun with all my strength. It smashed into the gun with such force the whole thing exploded, blowing the mummy apart. Burning pieces rained down all over the room.
And I wondered how I’d ever let such a stupid thing get to me.
I turned back to see Edmund advance on Molly as she snatched things up from the tables and threw them at him. Some exploded, some tried to cling on to him, and some surrounded him with monstrous energies, but none of them could get past his armour. Finally Molly reached behind her and produced the Hand of Glory made from the severed hand of an angel. Bright blue flames shot up from its fingertips, and just like that Edmund slammed to a halt, held motionless by the Hand’s power. For a moment I thought the fight was over, and then Edmund broke the Hand’s influence with one sweep of his arm. The blue flames puffed out, and the Hand was just a hand. Edmund surged forward impossibly quickly, grabbed Molly by the throat with one golden hand, and lifted her off her feet. And then he turned his featureless face mask to look at me.
“That’s close enough, Eddie! Keep your distance, or I’ll kill her! Let me go, and you can have her back.”
I stopped where I was. I had no choice. Edmund looked at the door, saw it was still too far away, shrugged, and reached through his armoured side with his free hand. He brought out the Merlin Glass and shook it out to door size. It stood on the air beside him and opened to show a familiar scene. The cold open steppes of Siberia.
“I didn’t want to have to use the Glass,” said Edmund. “Punching through the Museum’s protections will take up energies I might need later. But you always have to make things difficult for me, don’t you, Eddie? Why couldn’t you just die like you were supposed to? Ah well. Destiny calls. And you know what? I think I’ll kill Molly, anyway, just for laughs.”
His hand clamped down on her throat. A horrid choking sound burst from her mouth. She grabbed desperately at his golden wrist with both her hands but couldn’t break his grip. Her feet kicked helplessly, far above the floor. Edmund laughed, and Molly disappeared from his hand. She reappeared immediately, only a few feet away, because that was as far as the last of her magic could carry her. She sprawled on the floor, gasping desperately for breath, and Edmund went after her. But I was already running straight at him. I threw the object I’d picked up along the way, and Edmund looked up just in time to see the statue of Kali coming. He cried out in shock and horror and raised an arm to defend himself, and the statue shattered harmlessly against his armour. But by then I’d reached Molly and put myself between her and Edmund.
He turned away and jumped through the Merlin Glass, and it slammed shut after him. A moment later they were both gone, and with them the Immaculate Key.
I armoured down and helped Molly to her feet. A lot of the room was on fire, and an awful lot of awful things were running around loose, but I didn’t care. Molly leaned on me for a moment, getting her breath back, and then pushed me away angrily.
“I am nobody’s hostage!”
“When were you going to tell me you’d stolen the Hand of Glory?” I said.
She pouted. “A girl’s entitled to a souvenir. I had this feeling it might come in handy.”
“I’d already picked you up a little something,” I said. “I should have given it to you right away, and then we might have avoided all this.”
I handed her the Manx Medallion, and she looked at it wonderingly.
“When did you . . . How . . . ?”
“It’s all yours,” I said. “A repository of stored magics, packed full of supernatural vitamins. Just what you need to recharge your batteries.”
She closed her hand around the wooden amulet, and immediately violent energies sprang up around her, crackling fiercely on the air. They sank down into her, and Molly put back her head and laughed raucously as power surged through her. I could feel its presence in the room, beating on the air like the wings of a giant bird. Molly put the cord around her neck and let the amulet dangle between her breasts.
“Now, that’s more like it! I feel like myself again.” She stopped and looked at me. “All this power, and I still can’t do the only thing that matters to me. I can save myself, but I can’t save you. I’m so sorry, Eddie.”
“You can help me stop Edmund from raising the Unforgiven God with the Immaculate Key,” I said.
“Siberia’s a big place,” said Molly.
“But I know something about Grendel Rex’s tomb that Edmund doesn’t,” I said. “Which means we can get there first. Are you game, Molly? One last throw of the dice, with everything to play for?”
“My kind of game,” said Molly. And then she scowled. “It would have to be Siberia, wouldn’t it? Like Scotland wasn’t cold enough.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The God in the Cellar
I didn’t bother putting out any of the fires in the Old Curiosities Room, or cleaning up any of the mess we’d made. The room could do that for itself. Molly and I went sprinting back through the Museum, ignoring alarms shrieking on all sides like outraged aunts. Doors to other rooms slammed shut and locked themselves as we passed, and a few slammed shut
in our faces to bar our way. I armoured up just long enough to smash right through them. I really wasn’t in the mood to be messed with. The doors soon realised I wasn’t going to be stopped, or they recognised my Drood armour, because they started opening on their own to hurry me and Molly on our way. Presumably on the grounds I’d do less damage to the Museum that way. The front door took its own time opening, making a point for pride’s sake, and then realised I wasn’t slowing down and threw itself wide open at the last moment. Which was, after all, as it should be. Doors should know their place.
The second we were outside, the front door slammed shut behind us with almost spiteful force. I didn’t look back; I was too busy staring at the dragon, already settled comfortably on the flag-stones and waiting for us. He smiled smugly, which, given the sheer number of teeth involved, was something to see, while two thin plumes of smoke rose steadily from his nostrils.
“I hadn’t even called you yet!” I said.
“But you were going to,” said the dragon. “I knew you were going to need me before you did. It’s a dragon thing.”
“Do you know where we need to go?” said Molly. “Or do we have to draw you a map, with longitude and latitude and pointy arrows and things?”
“It’s all aboard for Siberia!” said the dragon. His toothy grin widened just a little at the look on our faces. “You have already mentioned the tomb of the Unforgiven God, buried under the Siberian steppes. And since you emerged from the Museum not carrying Edmund’s severed head by its hair, I am forced to the conclusion that he got away from you. Again. And that he is currently on his way to Siberia, courtesy of the Merlin Glass. I do pay attention when people talk, you know. It’s a skill you pick up when you spend centuries as a severed head under a burial mound. So, we should hurry if we want to get to the tomb before Edmund.”
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