Eddie had trouble dealing with just how many people there were, coming and going on the crowded pavements, keen to buy everything on offer. Even though they must have known most of it wasn’t necessarily all it appeared to be and that the deal was stacked against them. The crowds were so heavy it was hard for Eddie to see more than a few feet in front of him, but Molly seemed to know where she was going, so he just stuck close to her. Everywhere he looked, Eddie saw faces intent on following their own path, driven on by inner demons and private passions, determined to pursue their dreams no matter where they led.
At least Eddie could feel safely anonymous, out of his armour. Shaman Bond had been to the Nightside now and again, but not enough that his face was known, or remarked upon. And, of course, as long as he was with the infamous wild witch of the woods, he could be pretty sure no one would be looking at him anyway.
“Who, exactly, are you planning on making a deal with?” Molly said finally.
“We’re going to Strangefellows,” said Eddie. “Everyone goes to Strangefellows. And you know Alex Morrisey.”
Molly looked at him suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know him well enough that you can persuade him to call John Taylor,” said Eddie.
“That won’t be necessary,” said John.
Eddie and Molly came to an abrupt halt as the legendary Walker stepped out of the crowd to stand right in front of them. The two men looked each other over carefully. Two living legends, face-to-face for the first time and deciding just how impressed they should be. Eddie looked at Walker, poised and elegant in his smart city suit, and his first thought was that John Taylor looked every inch an authority figure. Eddie had never got on well with those, even when he was one. But there was no denying the man had style, and presence, and all the other things Eddie had been trained not to have, as a secret agent out in the field.
John’s first thought was that Eddie Drood looked surprisingly ordinary. Just another face in the crowd, nothing like his reputation. Until John looked into the man’s eyes and saw a cold determination that could move mountains. Or knock them down and walk through the wreckage. And, of course, he was Molly Metcalf’s significant other. Not a position for the faint of heart. John smiled slightly. Perhaps he and the Drood did have something in common, after all.
Molly looked at the two men looking at each other and wondered which of them would blink first.
“Welcome to the Nightside,” John said finally. “You might have dropped us a note, to let us know you were coming.”
“And spoil the surprise?” said Eddie. “So I’m Eddie Drood. It is good to meet you, at last. How have we managed to put it off for so long?”
“Fear of disappointment?” said John. “One should never meet one’s legends.”
“Or perhaps, deep-down, we were just worried that we wouldn’t be able to resist finding out which of us was the better man,” said Eddie.
“Dear God, smell the testosterone,” Molly said briskly. “Put them away, boys, before you trip over them.”
Both men smiled.
“Suzie’s just as bad,” said John.
“So I’ve heard,” said Eddie.
“We need to talk,” said John.
“Yes,” said Eddie. “We do. Is there somewhere nearby where we can do that privately?”
“Of course,” said John.
He nodded to the shop beside him, an ice-cream parlour with the unfortunately arch name Really Cool Ices. John raised an eyebrow, and Eddie inclined his head slightly in acceptance. Molly sniffed loudly, to make it clear she had no time for such posturing. John opened the door and strode in, followed by Eddie and Molly. John smiled around at the startled customers and staff.
“Everybody out, please. I’m commandeering this over-priced establishment for official Authorities business. At the double; spit spot, hop like a bunny.”
The customers immediately rose from their tables, abandoning their ice-creams, and the staff hurried out from behind the counter, not even pausing to take off their aprons and silly hats. They all streamed quickly out the door, being careful to give John Taylor and Molly Metcalf plenty of room. Eddie looked at John.
“I’ll just bet you’re one of those people who never has any trouble catching the barman’s eye.”
“Comes with the job,” John said easily. “Being Walker should come with a few perks.”
“You mean there are drawbacks?” said Eddie.
“Apart from everyone’s trying to kill me?” said John.
“I have days like that,” said Eddie.
“Shut the hell up and sit down, both of you,” said Molly. “You’re getting on my nerves.”
John seated himself at the nearest table. Eddie and Molly sat down facing him. It was very quiet in the ice-cream parlour, now they had the place all to themselves. Eddie peered around at the cheap and nasty plastic tables, then studied the list of flavours on the wall. THE ARCTIC SELECTION! PENGUIN, WALRUS, KILLER SHARK, SHACKLETON EXPEDITION. Eddie looked at John.
“Any of them any good?”
“Not even a little bit,” said John. “It’s strictly for the tourists.”
“I want an ice-cream,” said Molly. “With those little sprinkles on.”
“Later,” said Eddie.
He looked at John, and John looked back at him, and neither of them knew where to start. They both understood the realities of the situation and what was at stake, but they also knew they had nothing real to offer each other. They might be men of goodwill, but those they served weren’t.
“I refuse to believe nothing can be done to stop this,” said John.
“As long as we’re talking, there’s still hope,” said Eddie. “You could make a good start by telling me Luther’s death was an unfortunate accident.”
“Was that his name?” said John. “I never knew.”
“Do you often kill people you don’t know?” said Eddie.
“It’s the Nightside,” said John. “That happens all the time. But in this case, Suzie shot Luther while he was trying to kill me.”
“Why would he do that?” said Molly.
“He didn’t say,” said John. “But there can only be one reason: because someone ordered him to.”
“The Matriarch sent Luther into the Nightside to talk to the Authorities,” said Eddie.
“I can tell you for a fact that he never went anywhere near them,” said John. “He just appeared in Strangefellows and attacked me without warning.”
Eddie shook his head. “Luther was an experienced field agent. If he’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“Please remember who you’re talking to,” said John. “I have survived attacks by angels, gods, and members of my own family.”
“It’s true,” Molly said to Eddie. “He has.”
Eddie shook his head. “The Matriarch told me . . .”
John raised an eyebrow. “And your Matriarch has never lied to you?”
Eddie didn’t answer.
“What if the Sarjeant-at-Arms sent Luther to kill John?” said Molly. “And didn’t tell the Matriarch, so she could have deniability? It is the sort of thing he’d do.”
Eddie nodded, reluctantly. “But even if he did, he’d never admit it to anyone outside the family. It would be John’s word against his, and that wouldn’t be enough to stop the invasion.” He looked steadily at John. “There’s only one way out of this mess that I can see, only one way that will save lives on both sides. You have to persuade the Authorities to surrender. If there’s no resistance, there’s no need for any bloodshed. We can sort the truth out afterwards.”
But John was already shaking his head. “Even if I could convince the Authorities to do that, and I’m not at all sure that I could, no one in the long night would ever accept what your family means to do. They all know the Droods will
shut down everything they disapprove of. Droods live to occupy the moral high ground.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Eddie.
John leaned forward, fixing Eddie with an earnest stare. “You have to understand; the Nightside exists to be a haven for all the shades of grey. For all the people, good and bad and in between, who wouldn’t fit in anywhere else. It’s not just about satisfying the pleasures of the flesh, or the longings of the heart, or pursuing all the things the rest of the world doesn’t want you to have. The long night is where you go when no one else will take you. The last place on Earth where you can be truly free.”
“He’s got a point, Eddie,” said Molly.
“You would say that,” said Eddie, not turning his steady gaze away from John. “I’m sorry, Walker, but you must tell the Authorities to stand down. They have no other option. Once the Drood machine has been set in motion, it doesn’t stop for anything but complete victory.”
“I can’t do that,” John said bluntly. “And I won’t. The one thing that everyone in the Nightside can agree on is that we don’t take any crap from the outside world. Not after everything it’s done to us and taken from us. This is our refuge, from the tyrannies of Good and Evil, and we’ll fight to our last breath to defend it.”
“Fight for what?” said Eddie. “The freedom to suffer and die, to be lied to and cheated, to prey on each other and trample the weakest underfoot?”
“The freedom to live as we choose,” said John. “And to hell with whether the outside world approves of how we do it.”
He pushed back his chair and stood up. Eddie and Molly were quickly on their feet too, facing him.
“I can’t let you leave, John,” Eddie said flatly. “You’re too powerful a player to be left running loose.”
“You really think you can stop me?” said John. He sounded honestly curious.
Eddie subvocalised his activating Words, and his armour swept over him in a moment. A golden statue stood in his place, gleaming brightly under the stark fluorescent lighting. John could see his face reflected in the featureless mask and smiled easily to show he wasn’t impressed. That he’d seen better and scarier.
Molly glared from one to the other. “Knock it off, both of you! This isn’t helping!”
Neither man looked at her. They were locked in their roles, of who they were and had to be. Eddie raised one golden fist, and heavy spikes rose up from the knuckles.
“We don’t have to do this the hard way, John.”
“Of course we do,” said John. “It’s the Nightside.”
“You’re coming with me, Walker. So I can use you to put an end to this madness.”
“I really don’t think so,” said John.
He concentrated, and used his gift to find the activating Words Eddie had just used. They came to him in a moment, and then it was the easiest thing in the world for John to send Eddie’s armour shooting back into his torc. Eddie stood before John, just an ordinary man again, too shocked to do anything. Molly opened her mouth. John produced a packet from inside his coat and dashed the contents into Molly’s face. Caught by surprise, Molly breathed the pepper in and was immediately seized by a series of violent sneezes. The force of them bent her right over, tears streaming down her face to drip onto the floor. Eddie surged forward, ready to protect Molly even without his armour.
“Hold it!” said John. He pointed a steady finger at the incapacitated Molly. “Back off, Drood. Or I’ll use my gift to find a way to make her never have existed, so you never had a chance to meet her.”
Eddie stopped where he was. Because this was John Taylor, and he just might be able to do it. John gathered his dignity about him, nodded easily to Eddie, and walked out of the ice-cream parlour. Eddie watched him go, then turned to Molly. She brought her sneezes under control through sheer iron will-power even as tears continued to stream down her cheeks.
“Why did you let him go?” she said fiercely. “He was bluffing!”
“I couldn’t risk it,” said Eddie.
He offered Molly a handkerchief, and she snatched it from him. She scrubbed fiercely at her face, sneezed explosively one last time, and breathed deeply until she was sure she had everything back under control. She thrust the handkerchief back at Eddie, then smiled wryly.
“So, what did you think of John Taylor?”
“It seems he really is everything people say he is,” said Eddie. “But he won’t catch me off guard next time.”
“Yes, he will,” said Molly. “Because that’s what he does. Eddie, have you lost your armour permanently?”
Eddie murmured his activating Words, and the armour swept out of his torc to cover him from head to toe. He stretched a few times, as though checking it still fit, then sent it back into his torc.
“No one is supposed to know our activating Words. But now I know he knows, I’ve set up a safe-guard in my torc to prevent him from doing it again. And I’ve sent a message to the Sarjeant-at-Arms, so he can tell the rest of the family to do the same.”
“John will just come up with another trick,” said Molly. “Should we go after him?”
“He’ll have disappeared by now,” said Eddie. “Let him go. I gave him a chance to do the right thing, so whatever happens next is on him. Let’s go to Strangefellows. See what we can learn there.”
“And then?” said Molly.
“Depends what we learn,” said Eddie.
“I still want an ice-cream,” said Molly.
CHAPTER NINE
The Nightside Has No Heart
Still quietly fuming at not having arrived in the heart of the Nightside, the Matriarch led her column of armoured Droods through the bustling streets. They made an impressive sight, dozens of animated golden statues marching in perfect lock-step. People everywhere fell back to let them pass, even stepping off the pavement entirely to make sure they had plenty of room because even the dumbest tourist had at least heard of the Droods. And what they were capable of doing if they got upset.
The Matriarch turned to Ioreth, the Assistant Librarian. She’d made a point of keeping him at her side because he’d read more about the Nightside than anyone else in the family, apart from the Librarian himself.
Ioreth hadn’t liked leaving William behind to cope on his own, but he couldn’t resist the family summons to war. He’d missed out on the last one, against the Hungry Gods, because he was too young, and he’d always wondered if he had it in him to make a good Drood solider. If he could fight the good fight, when it really mattered, or if he was just a scholar after all. No one was more surprised than him when the Matriarch decided that with the Sarjeant-at-Arms off running his own group, Ioreth would serve as her second in command. Ioreth was pretty sure this was only partly because of his extensive knowledge of the long night and more because she could rely on him not to challenge her authority.
“Where are we now?” said the Matriarch, not for the first time.
“In a business area called Uptown,” Ioreth said patiently. “Not far from Victoria House, home to the publishing offices of the Night Times.”
“Good,” said the Matriarch. “Can we rely on Julien Advent to be reasonable, do you think?”
“He’s Julien Advent, the legendary Victorian Adventurer,” said Ioreth. “So almost certainly not.”
* * *
• • •
Victoria House turned out to be a large and comfortably run-down building, standing amidst sedate and respectable business properties. Though Ioreth knew for a fact that most of those businesses wouldn’t even recognise respectability if they fell over it. Victoria House was the largest of the buildings because within its grey stone walls the Night Times was written and edited, printed and published, every twenty-four hours without fail. Not forgetting the occasional Special Edition, in times of angel war or the return of a Biblical Myth. The Sunday edition was said to be so h
eavy you could use it to club a horse to death.
All of this took place under the guardianship of the paper’s renowned owner and editor, Julien Advent. He insisted on keeping all the operations under one roof, so he could ensure the safety and independence of the paper and all the people who worked on it. Because there’s nothing like telling the truth on a regular basis to make you a whole lot of enemies.
The Matriarch headed straight for the front door. A pair of more than usually grotesque gargoyles leaned out from the roof to peer down at the Droods and shout insults. The Matriarch turned her right hand into a gun and blew both gargoyles apart. Very small pieces of rubble rained down on the Droods and rattled harmlessly off their armour.
“Start as you mean to go on,” the Matriarch said briskly. “Tell me about the Night Times, Ioreth. In particular, tell me what I need to know before I go in there and beard the lion in his den.”
“The paper was founded more than two centuries ago,” said Ioreth, dropping automatically into lecture mode. “The newspaper of record for the Nightside, it covers all current events with favour toward none. The paper has as many enemies as admirers, but the last time someone tried to shut it down by interfering with its distribution process, the Little Sisters of the Immaculate Chainsaw made one of their rare public appearances, and made such a mess of the thugs in question that it was several days before the gutters ran freely again.”
The Matriarch turned to look at him. “Do you see any supernaturally violent nuns in the vicinity? Then stop looking so twitchy! Droods don’t twitch!”
“This is the Nightside,” Ioreth said darkly. “Things are different here.”
The Matriarch sniffed loudly and turned her attention back to Victoria House. Using the sensors built into his mask, Ioreth could clearly See the many layers of magical defences surrounding the building, laid down over centuries. A subsonic avoidance spell, that worked on the subconscious to persuade people they really should be somewhere else; floating invisible transformation mines, just waiting to turn you into something unfortunate if you got too close; and what looked like the psychic equivalent of barbed wire. All in all, enough to give Ioreth a headache just looking at them.