“The Meeting will come to order,” said the Armourer, harshly. “First order of business: does anyone here know exactly what the Crow Lee Inheritance is?”
There was a lot of glancing back and forth, but no one said anything. Until finally Natasha Chang cleared her throat in a meaningful sort of way.
“No one in the Crowley Project has had anything to do with the nasty old scrote himself, since we booted him out all those years ago. Are you saying you don’t know, Drood?”
“We know the Inheritance exists,” said the Armourer. “We know that a great many powerful organisations and individuals are preparing to go to war over it. So whatever it might or might not turn out to be, we have to decide what to do about it, now. Before things get really out of hand.”
“We’ve heard our fair share of rumours at the Institute,” said J.C. “The Inheritance could consist of all the riches, secrets, unique items he acquired down the years. More than enough there to go to war over. The Boss allowed me to take a quick look through Crow Lee’s file before I left. You wouldn’t believe how many pages it runs to. . . . But there’s nothing about an Inheritance. I don’t think any of us expected him to die so suddenly. . . .”
He looked at Molly and me, almost accusingly. I looked right back at him. I wasn’t going to let myself be ruffled. I was too busy keeping an eye on everyone else. I was starting to feel the undercurrents in the Meeting, all the dark and dangerous shapes moving just beneath the surface. I was beginning to get the feeling that not everyone present was singing from the same song sheet.
“Crow Lee made himself into a legend, in his own extended lifetime,” Bruin Bear said slowly. “The Most Evil Man In The World. Now he’s dead; I suppose it’s always possible he might turn up at Shadows Fall. And then we could just ask him.”
“No,” said the Sea Goat. “Not going to happen. Shadows Fall is for legends that no one believes in any more. People still believe in Crow Lee.”
“I don’t understand Shadows Fall,” said J.C.
“Not many do,” said the Bear.
“Why are you here, Bear?” said Dead Boy.
“Because if the Inheritance is what some people think it is,” said the Sea Goat, sounding suddenly sane and sober, “it’s worth going to war over. A war that would threaten all of us. Shadows Fall is a refuge for the spiritually walking wounded, and we don’t want its existence threatened.”
“How very lucid of you,” said Sir Parsifal.
“Up your poop chute, Knight,” said the Goat.
“I may be able to contribute something useful here,” said Natasha. Something in her voice made us all settle down and look at her. She smiled demurely. It wasn’t very convincing. “Crow Lee left a . . . living will. The Project got its hands on a copy. Best not to ask how. I brought it with me. So, if you’re all sitting comfortably . . . brace yourselves, darlings.”
She produced something I immediately recognised as a memory crystal, and muttered over it; and just like that Crow Lee himself was standing at the far end of the table, smiling ghoulishly. A large and overbearing presence in a long white Egyptian gown, with a shaven head and bushy black eyebrows, and hypnotically fierce eyes. Broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, huge hands folded together before him. A nasty, despicable, fascinatingly ugly man, with a presence that wouldn’t let you look away, even in death.
“If you are hearing this, then I have been murdered,” said Crow Lee’s image. “So, I leave the world my Inheritance. My greatest achievement, for those with the guts to go after it, and the will to master it. Whoever gains control of my Inheritance will have control over the world. Or, the means for its destruction. I have no way of knowing who will hear this—hopefully a great many people, and organisations. By all means, fight for the prize I give you. Tear civilisation apart to get your hands on my Inheritance. I promise you—it will be worth it.”
He was still laughing when the image snapped off.
“Typical of the man,” said the Armourer. “Do you have any further information, Natasha?”
“Not as such,” she said, making the memory crystal disappear. “We have been assembling files on those most likely to go after the Inheritance.”
“Including yourself, of course,” said J.C.
“Well, of course, darling. But all we really have are theories, and educated guesses. We have interrogated a great many people, but to little useful effect. The possibilities do seem . . . seriously scary.”
“But what is Crow Lee’s greatest achievement?” I said. “Something he made, or had made for him, perhaps? We could be talking magic, or technology, or just his personal cache of secrets. I mean, he dabbled in everything at one time or another.”
I looked to the Armourer, but he just shrugged. “Given some of the things Crow Lee’s been known to use, the possibilities are worryingly endless. Information bombs, to rewrite reality. Words of Power, that could blow the whole world apart like a firecracker in a rotten apple. Blackmail information, to manipulate the movers and shakers in power. And let us not forget, he was responsible for the removal of Drood Hall from this world, for a time. No one’s ever been able to do that before. Of course, we have since put new protections in place to ensure that can never happen again.”
“Oh, of course,” said Natasha. “Perish the thought.”
“I can promise this much,” said Sir Parsifal. “I can declare, on behalf of the London Knights, that anyone found in possession of the Crow Lee Inheritance will be punished severely.”
“Typical Knight,” said Dead Boy. “Still trying to bully the world into playing nicely.”
“I’m sure the direct approach of the London Knights will be enough to put off all the right people,” said the Armourer, diplomatically, “but, you’re hardly ever here, are you? The Knights are always riding off to do battle, in worlds and dimensions beyond our own. You can make as many threats as you like, Sir Parsifal, but I fear it will fall to the Droods to back them up. And as you already said, we’re all stretched a bit thin, these days. We can’t be everywhere.”
“Don’t look at me,” said J. C. Chance. “The Carnacki Institute exists to deal with threats from the Hereafter, not earthly villains with guns and armies.”
“Right,” said Dead Boy, nodding quickly. “Half the Nightside’s already out looking for the Inheritance, with the other half standing by, to steal it from the first half when they find it. I’m sure the Authorities will do what they can. But that usually involves letting both sides fight it out, and then kicking the crap out of the winners. And I wouldn’t be too ready to trust the Authorities, either. This is the Nightside we’re talking about . . .”
“The Nightside will do what it always does,” said Sir Parsifal. “Unleash the hounds of Hell, and the Devil take the hindmost. And no one in that unholy place will give a damn about all the innocents killed in the process.”
“If they were really innocent they wouldn’t be in the Nightside,” said Dead Boy.
“You were innocent, once,” said Bruin Bear, putting a paw on the cold dead hand beside him. “You weren’t always Dead Boy.”
“That was a long time ago,” said Dead Boy. “I don’t remember.”
“If the Inheritance should turn up in Shadows Fall, we will sit on it until someone worthy comes along to claim it,” said Bruin Bear.
“Right,” said the Sea Goat. “No one messes with us. We’ve got things in Shadows Fall that make the Inheritance look like a wet paper towel.”
“Strangely, that doesn’t reassure me,” said J.C.
“If the Crowley Project should acquire the Inheritance, you can all go to Hell,” Natasha Chang said sweetly. “By the direct route.”
“None of this deals with the main problem,” the Armourer said severely. “How to prevent the war for the Inheritance from breaking into the everyday world. That would be bad news for all of us. The Droods have discussed this, a
t length, and we feel we have a plan that will work.”
“Of course you do,” said Sir Parsifal. “Droods always have a plan. And, their own agenda.”
“It seems to us,” said the Armourer, pressing on determinedly, “that the best way to stop all these people from fighting and intriguing over the Inheritance, is to destroy their economic base. You can’t run a war without funds. Guns and armies cost serious money. So you can bet they’ll all be looking to the Shadow Bank for loans and support. But, if the Bank should happen to be in such a delicate position that it can’t afford to lend the money . . .”
“That would keep everyone quiet, until we could track down the Inheritance ourselves, and neutralise it,” said Sir Parsifal.
“Now, that’s what I call lateral thinking!” said J.C. “But how are we going to undermine a huge organisation like the Shadow Bank? I mean, they’re big! Really big! And very well protected.”
“Our plan is to infiltrate this year’s Casino Infernale,” said the Armourer. “Our agents will be Eddie and Molly. They will play the games, win big, and break the bank at the Casino, and thereby fatally weaken the Shadow Bank, who depend on these games for a large part of their income.”
“Oh, terrific!” I said. “When were you planning to tell Molly and me about this amazing plan that will almost certainly get both of us killed?”
“I just did,” said the Armourer.
Sir Parsifal rose suddenly to his feet, and glared coldly round the table. “If anyone is going to Casino Infernale and bring down the Shadow Bank, it must be a London Knight. Because only we are true and pure of heart enough not to be tempted. Money means nothing to us. We are Knights of the Round Table, of the Company of King Arthur Returned! We can be trusted.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But can you play cards?”
Sir Parsifal turned the full force of his glare on me. “Even the least of us is more trustworthy than a Drood who ran away from his family to serve that most despicable of creatures, the Regent of Shadows. Or a pagan witch who changes sides more often than her underwear.”
I was immediately up on my feet and facing him. I knew what he was doing, but I had no choice.
“None of you would last ten minutes at Casino Infernale, Sir Knight, because you know nothing about gambling. About when to bluff, or take a risk. And you’d be spotted the minute you walked through the door, because you don’t know how to pass. This is a job for a secret agent, not a knight in shining armour. And what’s more, keep your mind off my girlfriend’s underwear.”
“Damn right,” said Molly. “And the joke’s on you anyway, Percy. I’m not wearing any!”
Sir Parsifal put his steel helmet back on, and stood back from the table. “The matter is not open to debate. The decision has been made. The London Knights will run this operation because none of you can be trusted to do the right thing.”
I armoured up, and everyone else was quickly up out of their chairs, and backing away. Because it’s one thing to have heard about Drood armour, and quite another to see it manifest right in front of you. To feel its power and potency beating on the air; its terrible significance. Everyone watched silently from the end of the table, while the Armourer did his best to calm things down. I gestured to Molly, and she reluctantly fell back to join them. Leaving Sir Parsifal and me staring at each other, from inside our armour. He turned slowly to face me, his joints making slow sinister noises, and his hand dropped to the heavy sword at his side. I stepped forward, and my armour didn’t make a single sound.
“You can’t be allowed to screw this up, Knight, through your own arrogance,” I said. “This is too important. The whole world is at stake.”
“Business as usual for the London Knights,” said Sir Parsifal. “What’s the matter, Drood; stakes too high for you?”
“This was supposed to be a chance for discussion, not ultimatums,” I said.
“Typical Drood,” said Sir Parsifal. “This is why none of the Big Names from around the world showed up for your little get-together. Because real Powers don’t negotiate. I only came to see what you were up to. And now I know, I will take over. And do what needs to be done.”
Uncle Jack armoured up, and came forward to stand beside me. Molly was quickly there too, on my other side.
“No,” I said. “Thanks for the thought, but we can’t have a London Knight thinking it takes more than one Drood to bring him down. We can’t have these sanctimonious little pricks getting above themselves.”
The Armourer leaned in close beside me, his voice murmuring inside my mask. “Nice words, Eddie. Excellent sentiments. Couldn’t agree more. But, this is Sir Parsifal. A legendary warrior, undefeated fighter, and one of the most dangerous Knights in Arthur’s Company. His strength is as the strength of ten, because he’s too pure and single-minded to even entertain the concept of defeat. That sword he’s carrying isn’t Excalibur, but it is really old and horribly powerful, and soaked in martial magics. It might actually be able to cut through strange matter.”
“Then I’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t have the chance to cut me with it,” I said. “Thanks for the pep talk though, Uncle Jack.”
“Any time, nephew.”
He moved back, taking Molly with him. She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t want me to look weak in front of the others.
I grew a long golden sword out of my armoured hand, and extended it out before me. Light as air, and sharper than a cutting word. Sir Parsifal drew his sword and the long blue-hued steel gleamed viciously. I could feel its presence, like a new arrival in the room. The two of us stepped forward, good men in armoured suits, fighting for what we each believed to be right. I was sure Sir Parsifal would honestly regret killing me, afterwards, but it wouldn’t stop him. He thought he had to win, for the sake of the world. Trouble was, I thought that too.
We both lunged forward, and our blades slammed together and then jumped apart again. I could see surprise in Sir Parsifal’s eyes; he’d expected his magic blade to shear right through mine. He knew nothing of strange matter. We cut at each other, again and again, stamping and thrusting, parrying and retreating. Circling each other, feinting and withdrawing, searching out weaknesses in the other’s position and style. The two great swords hammered together, and neither of us would give an inch.
Sir Parsifal was fast and furious, incredibly strong and practised, coming at me from every direction; but he’d never met a Drood before. He didn’t know how to fight dirty. So when I was sure I had his style down pat, I deliberately let my sword drop, just a little. He thought he saw an opening, and lunged forward, his sword leaping forward in full extension, to run me through the chest. I stood my ground, and the sword point hit my chest and bounced away, unable to penetrate. And while Sir Parsifal was shocked and caught off guard, I swung my sword with both hands, and hit him so hard on the wrist that his fingers leapt open, and his sword fell from his hand. I set the point of my golden sword at Sir Parsifal’s throat, unprotected under his steel helm.
“Had enough?” I said.
“Well played, Drood,” said Sir Parsifal, standing very still. “You took a hell of a chance, though. You couldn’t have known your armour would withstand my sword.”
“I gambled,” I said. “And I won. And that’s why I’m going to Casino Infernale.”
“It isn’t over yet,” said Sir Parsifal. “Are you really ready to kill me, over this?”
“Yes,” I said. “This matters.”
“Then you are the right man for the job,” said the Knight. “I yield. And I salute you, Sir Drood.”
I stepped back, and he leant down and picked up his sword from the floor. He saluted me with his blade, and then put it away.
“You didn’t really think it was going to be that easy, did you, darlings?” said Natasha Chang.
We all looked round, to see her standing away from the rest of us, covering us all with
a nasty-looking piece of high tech in her hand. Energy weapon of some kind, presumably. She smiled happily.
“You should never have invited me here. I learned far more than I gave away; but just to be sure, I think I’ll kill you all now. And then eat all your ghosts, and digest all your secrets. And then my people will come here, and make the Martian Tombs our own. And we’ll find the Crow Lee Inheritance, and make that our own. It was always meant for us, anyway. Little people like you wouldn’t appreciate it. I’m going to have it all, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”
While she was still shouting and threatening us with her tech gun, the Sea Goat appeared suddenly behind her and hit her over the head with his vodka bottle. The glass shattered, and she slumped unconscious to the floor. J.C. moved quickly in to snatch up the weapon as it fell from her hand. The Sea Goat grinned broadly.
“No one ever notices me. Or takes me seriously.”
“Did you have to break a bottle over her head?” said Bruin Bear. “You’ve got very coarse since you got real.”
The Goat shrugged. “Stick with what works, that’s what I always say.”
“Can’t take you anywhere,” said Bruin Bear.
The Armourer and I armoured down, and then moved to one side to talk quietly together.
“This marvellous plan of yours,” I said. “The one where we break the bank at Casino Infernale, to damage the Shadow Bank . . . correct me if I’m wrong, but hasn’t this already been tried before? Many times, by many brave and experienced agents? And hasn’t it always gone horribly wrong, never worked, and got everyone involved killed?”
“Well, yes,” said the Armourer. “And, since they’ll be looking for Drood field agents at Casino Infernale, you’ll have to go in as Shaman Bond. But you and Molly do have this marvellous knack for winning against appalling odds. So, we’re counting on that.”