“Librarian, I . . . William!”
His head came up, and Eddie could almost hear William’s attention snap back into focus.
“Yes, Maggie? Did you want something?”
“We’re going to need the most detailed maps of the Nightside you can provide,” said the Matriarch. “I need to be sure of what we’re getting into.”
The Librarian was already shaking his head. “Oh, I have maps, lots of maps, ancient and modern, but none of them are worth a damn. The problem is, you see, that the geography of the Nightside is always changing. Growing and shrinking and transforming itself . . . Perhaps because that’s the only way it can accommodate all the sinning that goes on there.”
“How is that possible?” said the Matriarch. Making it clear this was a practical and not a philosophical question. She really wanted to know.
William looked at her pityingly. “It’s the Nightside.”
The Matriarch turned to address Molly’s stubbornly turned back. “Is this why you were so sure an invasion wouldn’t work? I need you to help me understand, Molly.”
Molly thought about it, and turned back to face the Matriarch and her Council. She still looked angry, but at least she seemed ready to talk. Perhaps because she felt on safer ground discussing things that were common knowledge in her part of the hidden world.
“Some parts of the long night are as old as civilisation, while others can appear spontaneously as you watch. Some institutions have survived for centuries, while others come and go in the blink of an eye. It’s the nature of the Nightside, that the only constant is change. An area dedicated to freedom of choice has to be free to be what it wants to be. Or needs to be. Most of the central locations are fixed and certain, because people want them to be, but how you get to them can change without warning.
“Popular establishments get physically bigger as they become more successful, while less popular places shrink and fade away. As one club or business stumbles, it is immediately forced aside and replaced by another. Darwinism in action. The Nightside can give a whole new meaning to the phrase hostile takeover. And even beyond all the mechanisms of sin and temptation, there are levels to the Nightside. What you see is never going to be all of what you get. Whole worlds can hide within innocent-looking buildings, and ordinary-seeming doors can lead to dimensions of pleasure or traps for the unwary. There are things underground that have been sleeping for centuries, that only a fool would waken . . . And do I really need to remind you about the Street of the Gods?”
“At least we don’t need to worry about that,” said the Sarjeant. “It’s empty.”
“What?” said Eddie.
“According to the latest reports, the gods have run away,” the Sarjeant explained. “Apparently they looked into the future and saw us looking back at them. They couldn’t hit the road fast enough.”
“And you think that’s a good thing?” said Eddie. He could tell his voice was rising again and didn’t give a damn. “Old Father Time was right! We are the terrible thing that’s coming! How destructive, how deadly, are we going to be that even the beings on the Street of the Gods don’t want to be around when we turn up? How much more evidence do you need that this invasion is a really bad idea? For everyone!”
The Matriarch looked back at him, entirely unmoved. “Are you going to calm down, Eddie, or do I need to get you a paper bag to breathe into? The gods have good reason to fear us. They know we couldn’t afford to go easy on beings as powerful as them. But I am only interested in taking control of the Nightside; if I can find a way to do that without spilling a drop of blood, I will happily accept it. The reason for all this discussion and planning is to find a way to do that as painlessly as possible. Go on, Molly; what else do we need to know about the geography of the Nightside?”
Molly looked at her for a long moment, disturbed that her words weren’t having the desired effect on the Matriarch. She took a deep breath and tried again.
“You have no idea of what you’re getting into. How can you invade a place where the streets come and go, and reality itself can be rewritten while you wait? By strength of will, by unknown forces, or just the whim of the moment? Street signs offer opinions as much as directions, and the last time I consulted a Nightside A–Z, the details on the pages changed before my eyes.”
She looked challengingly at the Matriarch, who stared calmly back.
“We’ll just have to conquer everything as we come to it,” said the Matriarch. “Take control of strategic locations and hold them.”
“How can you hold something that can change shape in your grasp to bite you?” said Molly.
The Sarjeant-at-Arms cleared his throat, and everyone turned to look at him. Because when he had something to say, you’d better listen.
“I’m afraid it’s even more complicated than that, Matriarch. We’ll have to block off all the entrances and exits to the long night, once we’re inside. Including all the Timeslips. Not just to prevent people from leaving but to keep the Authorities from summoning reinforcements. There are quite a few who’d come running to defend the Nightside, either because they have a vested interest in seeing it continue or because they believe in what they think it represents. And there are others who’d join in the fighting, just for a chance to strike at the Droods in someone else’s territory. We can’t risk this conflict spreading, or we could end up embroiled in even more wars outside the long night.”
The Matriarch looked to Molly, who shrugged quickly.
“I don’t know where all the exits are. I don’t think anyone does. And the Timeslips come and go according to rules and notions only they understand. Some think they might be sentient, while others think they’re like the weather. And you can bet the Authorities have any number of secret exits, so important people can escape the Nightside in times of trouble.”
“Don’t forget the Nightside has its own House of Doors,” said Eddie. “Where the Doormouse builds and sells dimensional Doors. The last time Molly and I were in the showroom, there were Doors to places I wasn’t even sure existed. The Doormouse has sold Doors to us in the past, which means he’ll sell to anyone. And these are just the ways in and out that we’ve heard of. There’s no way we can seal the Nightside off completely.”
“We need a blanket cover, for everything,” said the Matriarch. “Armourer?”
Maxwell and Victoria looked at each other. They seemed a little surprised, and even put-out, as though they thought they’d already done everything that could reasonably be asked of them. This was their moment to shine, to prove their worth, but it was obvious to Eddie it had never occurred to them they would have to come up with an answer to this particular problem. But you don’t say no to the Matriarch, particularly when the Sarjeant-at-Arms is standing scowling beside her. So the two of them put their heads together and murmured urgently. Eddie watched ideas come and go in their faces, possible solutions raised and shot down over and over, until finally they found something they could both agree on. They sat back and did their best to smile confidently at the Matriarch.
“We don’t have anything specifically designed to do what you want,” said Max.
“But we do have Alpha Red Alpha,” said Vicky.
“The most powerful dimensional engine ever created,” said Max. “We’ve spent a lot of time investigating its potential capabilities.”
“On our own time, of course,” said Vicky.
“Well, obviously, dear,” said Max.
“Tell the Matriarch what it can do, dear. You’re so good at putting things into words.”
“But you did a lot of the basic research, dear.”
“But it was your idea originally! You tell them! And don’t be so modest, sweetie. This is no time to be putting yourself down. Their trouble is, they don’t appreciate you.”
“Oh, hush, dear.” Max smiled tentatively at the Matriarch. “It is our opinion that Alpha
Red Alpha could be made to broadcast a signal powerful enough to block any dimensional changes.”
“To lock on to one set of Space/Time coordinates, and impose them on everything surrounding the machine,” said Vicky.
“Powerful enough to cover the whole of the Nightside?” said the Sarjeant.
“Oh, certainly,” said Max.
“Theoretically,” said Vicky.
“The mathematics are perfectly sound,” said Max.
“We just haven’t had a chance to try it,” said Vicky.
“So there’s no telling what the side-effects might be.”
“Or how much energy it would use up.”
“The dimensional engine could burn itself out,” said Max.
“Or it could drain all of the Hall’s power and its reserves,” said Vicky.
“We just don’t know.”
“But it should work.”
“Oh yes, it should work.”
“But we can’t tell you for how long.”
“Find out,” said the Matriarch.
Maxwell and Victoria bobbed their heads eagerly, already looking forward to some properly authorised experimenting.
“Whether this works or not, you still haven’t addressed the real problem,” Eddie said doggedly. He glared at the Matriarch. “You’re arguing over the details and missing the point! You’re still clinging to the old idea, that the Droods always win. Which is understandable. It’s practically part of our job description. But we’ve never taken on anything like the Nightside before! All our plans and aims are worthless when set against an enemy we don’t understand and can’t predict!”
“Damn right!” Molly said loudly. “You have no idea what’s waiting for you! There are things in the long night no one should disturb, things even Walker and the Authorities couldn’t hope to control. And these are people who’ve won victories against angels from Above and Below, and Lilith herself!”
The Matriarch nodded, to show she was listening, but remained unmoved. “You were there when we defeated the Angelic and Demonic Droods, Molly. You helped us destroy the Hungry Gods. This family has never been afraid to take on agents of Light or Darkness, or anything in between. We do what needs doing. Nothing else matters.”
“You’re not doing this because it’s necessary!” Molly’s voice was rising again. “You’re doing it because you want to! Because this situation has finally given you the perfect excuse to do what you’ve always dreamed of doing. To stamp out the one place in the world where the Droods have never been able to enforce their inflexible, puritanical, cold-hearted authority! You won’t be happy till the whole world bends its knee and bows its head to you and does what it’s told!”
“You’re right,” said the Matriarch. “I do dream about that, sometimes.”
Molly stormed out of the Sanctity. The Matriarch turned to Eddie.
“Go after her. Stop her. Calm her down and bring her to her senses. Or we’ll do it for you.”
“Don’t push your luck, Maggie,” Eddie retorted.
The Sarjeant-at-Arms looked like he was about to say something. Eddie shot him a challenging look, and the Sarjeant thought better of it. Eddie looked coldly around the Council.
“You’re supposed to be her advisors. So talk her out of this. For all our sakes.”
He turned his back on them all and left the Sanctity.
* * *
• • •
Out in the corridor, Molly hadn’t got far. She was surrounded by half-a-dozen Droods in full armour. They were maintaining a respectful distance, for the moment, but they weren’t letting her go. Eddie strolled over to join them, working hard to look calm and composed, and not at all like he was about to kick all their arses. One of the Droods turned his featureless golden mask to face him.
“Hello, Eddie. Good of you to join us, but we don’t need any help. We have the situation under control.”
“No, you haven’t,” said Eddie. “You only think you have. Because Molly is being uncharacteristically patient with you, for my sake. You can tell that because, otherwise, she’d have done something quite appallingly unpleasant to you by now. She only held off because she knew I was coming. Would I be correct in assuming that the Sarjeant-at-Arms called for you to be here? Before Molly and I even appeared inside the Sanctity? Yes, I thought so. And no, I can’t read your face through that mask, but your body language is a dead give-away. What are your orders exactly?”
“First and foremost, to maintain order in the Hall,” said the faceless Drood. “To contain the wild witch Molly Metcalf, and prevent her from causing any trouble. To remove her to a safe and secure location that has already been prepared for her. Somewhere she can be kept safely, and comfortably, till the present problem with the Nightside has been dealt with. These are long-standing orders, Eddie. And we will carry them out.”
“Not on the best day you ever had,” said Eddie. He nodded apologetically to Molly. “My family does like to have plans in place for every eventuality. Try not to take it personally. I’m sure there are standing orders where I’m concerned.”
“Yes,” said the faceless Drood. “There are.”
Eddie smiled at him. “Okay, you’re annoying me now. Get lost, and take your little bully-boy buddies with you.”
The circle of armoured Droods stirred uneasily but held their ground.
“The witch’s room is waiting for her,” said the faceless Drood. “We can open a secure room for you too if you like.”
“You really fancy your chances?” said Eddie.
“We can handle the witch.”
“But can you handle her and me?” said Eddie.
The Drood looked at him for a long moment, then turned and strode away. The other Droods hurried after him. Their armoured feet made a low thunder on the bare floor-boards, to disguise the fact that they were running away. Eddie looked thoughtfully at their departing backs.
“I must be losing my touch. He actually stopped to think about it. I can see I’m going to have to do something more than usually destructive while I’m here, just to restore my reputation.”
“I’ll help,” said Molly. She looked at him for a long moment. “Are you really ready to take on your entire family just for me?”
“I’d take on the whole world for you,” said Eddie.
Molly smiled. “Of course you would.”
“They didn’t try to hurt you, did they?” said Eddie.
“They knew better than that,” said Molly. “Eddie, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” said Eddie. He stood and thought for a while, and Molly waited patiently, never doubting he would come up with an answer. Finally Eddie nodded firmly. “We need to visit the Old Library. Take a look at the original Pacts and Agreements. William should have arranged for a translation by now. Maybe there’s something in the original copy we can use to make both sides behave.”
“You mean like a sinner reading the Bible, looking for loopholes?” said Molly.
“Exactly,” said Eddie.
* * *
• • •
They’d barely got half-way down the long corridor when Eddie came to a sudden halt as a Drood with a familiar but very unexpected face came walking down the corridor towards them. Molly stopped beside Eddie.
“What’s wrong, Eddie? Who is that?”
“That . . . is Luther Drood. Field agent for Los Angeles. We worked together on a case once when I had to go to LA. What the hell is Luther doing here? He never comes home.”
They waited for Luther to join them. He took his own sweet time doing it, just to show he was his own man, but finally stopped before them and nodded politely. A tall, heavy-built man in his fifties, he had a bronzed and heavily lined face, close-cut grey hair, and a bushy grey moustache, and was wearing an offensively gaudy T-shirt over blindingly white shorts, with des
igner flip-flops. Like most of the people in his adopted city, Luther went to some effort to appear calm and laid-back.
“Eddie,” said Luther.
“Luther,” said Eddie.
“Molly!” said Molly, not to be left out.
The two men met each other’s gaze steadily, neither giving an inch. Molly could sense a history between them, and not a good one.
“So, what did the two of you get up to in LA?” she said, after the silence had dragged on just a little too long.
“I turned a dragon inside out,” said Eddie.
“And you destroyed a landmark hotel,” said Luther.
“You get to have all the fun, Eddie,” said Molly.
“The next hotel is all yours,” said Eddie, not taking his eyes off the other field agent. “What are you doing here, Luther?”
“I was summoned, by the Matriarch,” said Luther. “Is it true, what I’ve been hearing about the Nightside?”
“Probably,” said Eddie.
“Damn,” said Luther. “The only place I know of that’s actually worse than Los Angeles. The long night . . . where the sinning is easy, and the bill will take your breath away.”
“What are you doing here, Luther?” said Eddie, refusing to be side-tracked.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” said Luther. “The Matriarch is waiting to talk to me.”
He strode past them, heading for the Sanctity doors. The two guards were already holding them open for him. Eddie and Molly watched Luther go.
“That man needs more fibre in his diet,” said Eddie.
“Why would the Matriarch send for him in particular?” said Molly.
“Good question,” said Eddie.
He broke off, as the entire Council came hurrying out of the open Sanctity doors. William and Ammonia bustled down the corridor and straight past Eddie and Molly, not even glancing at them. In times of trouble, William always headed for the Old Library. The only place he really thought of as home.