Daemons Are Forever

  All family loss matters. But my family matters more than most.

  The whole family, or so it seemed, turned out for the funeral. They came from all over the Hall, standing in groups according to their calling or status. No one wanted to stand with Molly and me, not even the other members of my Inner Circle. Ranks and ranks of the living lined up before the rows of coffins, while hidden speakers pumped out consoling music. The Armourer was off to one side, fussing over a remote control panel. Keeping an eye on the energy field that protected us from enemy attacks and spying eyes.

  The music finally ended with a stirring rendition of “I Vow to Thee My Country,” which we’ve pretty much adopted as our anthem, and then a Drood vicar came out to start the service. He was a Christian; nothing more. The family has never bothered with all the various schisms that have split the Protestant Church down the years. We’d probably still be Catholic if the pope hadn’t ordered us to assassinate Henry VIII, when he split England away from Rome. The pope really should have known better. No one orders Droods around.

  The vicar took us quickly through a stripped-down service, not even pausing for hymns or homilies, and then he stepped back and nodded to the Armourer. Uncle Jack hit a large red button with the flat of his hand, and just like that, two hundred and forty coffins disappeared, gone, leaving only faint indentations in the grassy lawn. Molly looked at me inquiringly.

  “Transported directly into the heart of the sun,” I said. “Instant cremation. Ashes to ashes, and less than ashes. Nothing left behind to be used against the family. I told you we all get cremated; we’re just a bit more dramatic about it than most. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make my speech. Good thing I don’t suffer from stage fright; looks like everyone’s here, except the Matriarch.” I frowned. “She should be here. She shouldn’t let private arguments get in the way of family duty. Ah well, wish me luck.”

  “Anyone even looks like heckling, I’ll set fire to their underwear,” said Molly.

  “How very fitting,” I said.

  “I thought so,” said Molly.

  I walked unhurriedly forward to where the coffins had been, and then turned and faced my family. So many Droods, all in one place, watching me with uncertain faces, waiting for me to say the words that would make everything all right again. If I could have, I would . . . But when in doubt, tell the truth. It may not be comforting, or reassuring, but at least then everyone knows where they are. So I told them what we found, down on the Nazca Plain. The Loathly Ones working through their drones, the insane structure they built, and the Awful Being they tried to summon through into our reality. Told them how my force fought bravely and well, against unexpected, overwhelming numbers, and how we triumphed in the end. Those of us who remained.

  “This is exactly the kind of threat the family was created to oppose,” I said, my voice ringing out loud and clear on the still morning air. “To be shamans, protecting the human tribe against threats from Outside. Those who came with me, and fell so valiantly, gave their lives to save humanity. Be proud of them. And yes, we paid a high price for our victory. Which is why we must never be caught off guard again. My Inner Circle and I have decided that every member of the family will be presented with a new torc, and as soon as possible. We must all be strong again. There is a war coming, not just against the Loathly Ones, and the Invaders from Outside, but against all our enemies who would seek to divide and destroy us.”

  I had hoped I’d get a cheer, or at least a round of applause, when I announced new torcs for everyone, but no one made a sound. And when I finished, they all just stood there, looking at me blankly, as though to say, Is that it? Is that all? And then Harry strode forward out of the crowd, and every eye turned to him. I should have known. Should have known he’d seize the occasion to stick another knife in my back.

  I looked quickly for Molly and shook my head. I couldn’t afford for anyone to think I was afraid to let Harry speak.

  “There is a war coming,” Harry said, his voice loud and confident. “The nests of the Loathly Ones must be destroyed, and the Invaders prevented from entering our reality. But we can’t just wait around for new torcs . . . coming as soon as possible. We need them now. Right now! What’s to prevent our many enemies from launching an attack, while we’re perceived to be weak and vulnerable after such a major defeat? What’s to stop the Loathly Ones from hitting us right now, in retaliation for the destruction of their towers, or to prevent us from attacking other nests? We need our torcs. The family must be protected. It must be made strong again. And for that . . . we need a new leader.”

  He stared right at me, his face cold and unyielding. “I demand that Edwin step down! His half-baked ideas and incompetent leadership have cost us too much already. He’s a threat to us all. He has proved himself a failure in the field, got most of his people killed, and doesn’t even have the decency to apologise or admit his fault. It’s time to undo all the damage he’s done to the family, and return us to traditional control. We must restore the Matriarch to power. She alone has the experience to wage a war successfully.”

  “No,” I said flatly, and my voice stopped him dead. All faces turned back to me again. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice. “Are your memories really so short? The Matriarch betrayed this family. Have you forgotten the price she made you pay for your old armour? The deaths of your twin brothers and sisters? All those babies, sacrificed to the Heart? She sanctioned that practice, and kept it a secret from you, because she knew you’d never go along with it once you knew the truth. Will you sell your souls again, so easily? The torcs I will provide you, from Strange, will have no price tag attached. The armour I will give you, you can wear proudly.”

  I looked at Harry. “I can guarantee the family new torcs. Can the Matriarch do that? Can you, Harry?”

  “So, Strange belongs to you, does he?” said Harry.

  “Strange belongs to no one,” I said. “But he knows an arsehole when he sees one.” I looked back at the sea of watching faces. “It’s up to you. Make your own decision. Don’t be told what to do, by the Matriarch, or Harry, or me. I can’t lead you into a war against your will, and I wouldn’t if I could. I’m not your Patriarch. I’m just a Drood, determined to do what’s right. To be what I was raised to be. To fight the good fight against all the enemies of humanity.”

  There was a long pause, during which I could almost hear my heart hammering in my chest. I had nothing else to say. And then, in ones and twos, and then in groups, my family applauded, accepting my words. They bowed their heads to me and then turned away and dispersed, heading back into the Hall. Not an overwhelming response, but it would do. For now. I looked around, but Harry had already disappeared. Running off to report back to the Matriarch, no doubt. I did see the Armourer, taking time out for a quiet cigarillo, and he gave me a cheerful thumbs-up. I nodded, and went back to join Molly.

  “Fight the good fight?” she said. “As opposed to the bad fight, I suppose. What the hell’s a bad fight?”

  “The kind where you lose two hundred and forty good men and women,” I said. “I can’t do this alone, Molly. I need help. Professional help. People who know how to fight a war.”

  “The clock’s ticking,” said Molly. “Where are you going to find these people in time?”

  “Precisely,” I said.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Out of Time

  Penny came marching towards us with a determined look in her eyes. “Keep going,” I said to Molly.

  “We could run,” she said.

  “Lacks dignity.”

  By which time Penny had caught us up anyway. She planted herself right in front of us, hands on hips, glaring at me. I smiled pleasantly back, like I hadn’t a care in the world, knowing that would annoy her the most.

  “We have a problem,” Penny said flatly.

  “Really?” I said. “You do surprise me. And let me guess: It’s all my fault, right?”

  “Maybe,” said Penny. “Janissary Jane has gone miss
ing. Disappeared without trace. There isn’t even any record of her leaving the grounds, which is supposed to be impossible with all the new security systems we’ve had put in place since your return.”

  “Jane’s a professional,” I said calmly. “She comes and goes as she pleases. Still, it’s odd she should just disappear, without saying anything. Any clues?”

  “Just the one. A note, pinned to her door with a knife. It said, Gone to get really big guns.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That sounds like Jane, all right.”

  “She must have taken the losses at Nazca personally,” said Molly.

  “Jane’s a soldier,” I said. “She’s fought in demons wars, seen whole civilisations die around her . . . If Janissary Jane thinks we need bigger guns, we must be in even more trouble than we thought. Still, she’ll be back.”

  “Hopefully with really big guns,” said Molly.

  “Anything else?” I said to Penny.

  “While I’m here, I would like to remind you about the decisions the Inner Circle made in your absence.”

  “I hadn’t forgotten,” I said.

  Penny sighed. “I told them you’d take it personally. Look, Eddie, this really isn’t about you. It’s about what’s best for the family. No one’s talking about deposing you; we just want you to consult with us more.”

  “Trust me, Penny,” I said. “I understand.”

  Penny sighed again. “If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. So, in the interests of peace and good will and not smacking you around the head in public, I will change the subject. Nice speech you just made. You said all the right things. And unlike Harry, what you said clearly came from the heart. Keep that up, and you might just take the family with you after all.”

  “Only might?” I said.

  “There’s more to being a leader than being right,” said Penny. “You have to inspire, to motivate . . . and to know when to play politics with the right people.”

  “And there I thought you were changing the subject,” I said. “Let me try. How’s Mr. Stab?”

  She looked at me sharply, immediately on guard. “He’s doing well. Settling in. His lectures are always standing room only, though as yet no one’s worked up the nerve to attend a personal tutorial. He’s a fascinating man. Very . . . deep. Why are you asking me, Eddie?”

  “Because you’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” I said.

  “I won’t even ask how you know that,” Penny said coldly.

  “Best not to,” I agreed.

  “What I do in my private time is my business, Eddie. Don’t go poking your nose in where it isn’t wanted or needed. Or Mr. Stab might cut it off.”

  She stalked away, her stiff back radiating anger. Molly looked after her. “What was that all about?”

  “It seems that Penny and Mr. Stab are something of an item, these days.”

  “You’re joking! Really? Doesn’t she know who he is? How can she not know who and what he is?”

  “She knows,” I said. “She just doesn’t want to believe it. She thinks she can change him. And maybe she can. You always said he was a good friend to you . . .”

  “Well yes, but only because he knows I can kick his arse in a dozen different ways . . . Oh hell, I’d better get after her. Time for some serious girl talk, and perhaps even an intervention. See you later, sweetie.”

  A quick peck on the cheek, a waggle of the fingers, and she was off after Penny, moving at speed. I hoped the intervention worked out. I could use one less thing to worry about.

  I wandered through the Hall, not going anywhere in particular, just thinking. If I couldn’t trust the advisors in my own Inner Circle anymore, then I’d just have to get some new advisors. Preferably ones who understood more about the realities of fighting a war. And I had a really great idea on where to find them, made even more fun by the certain knowledge that this was one idea the Inner Circle definitely wouldn’t approve of. I was still grinning at the thought when my left jacket pocket started jumping around like a wild thing. I grabbed at it with both hands, wrestled it still, and finally pulled out Merlin’s Glass, shaking and shuddering like a vibrator in heat. It jerked itself out of my hands, grew rapidly in size, and then hung there on the air before me, a gateway though which I could see the old library. Shelves and shelves of books, in a warm golden glow, accompanied by the definite sound of someone muttering to himself. William Drood appeared suddenly in the frame and nodded brusquely to me.

  “Don’t panic, it’s only me. I needed to talk to you privately, so I activated the Glass from a distance.”

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” I said.

  He snorted loudly. “Lot of things you don’t know about the Merlin Glass, boy, and I haven’t enough time to warn you about all of them. Suffice to say that this is a device constructed by the infamous Merlin Satanspawn. The clue is in the name.”

  “Next time, ring a little bell or something,” I said. “Scared the hell out of me.”

  “You’re lucky I was able to improvise a vibrate mode,” said William. “The original version called for a really loud gong sound. Now pay attention, Edwin. I need to talk to you. Here, in the old library, where we won’t be overheard. Come on, just step through the doorway. I haven’t got all day.”

  I sighed inwardly. It didn’t seem all that long ago when I was the one giving orders around here. I stepped through the opening, into the old library, and the Glass immediately shrank down to normal size again and tucked itself back into my pocket. I didn’t know it could do that, either. I resolved to spend more time reading the instruction manual, first chance I got.

  William heaved an oversized leather-bound book onto a brass reading lectern and leafed through the pages rather more quickly than was probably safe for such ancient paper. He soon found the right page and began reading it to himself in a fast murmur, following the line of words with a fingertip. I waited for him to fill me in on whatever was so important that he’d had to summon me so urgently, but he seemed to have forgotten I was even there. I found a chair and sat down to wait.

  Every time I thought William was getting better, he fell back into Oddly John mode.

  The younger librarian Rafe appeared from between the towering stacks with a cup of steaming tea, which I accepted gratefully. Rafe looked fondly at William and leaned forward to murmur in my ear.

  “You have to make allowances for the old codger. We’ve both been up all night, searching for the information you wanted. The old library has copies of books I never dreamed still existed, some of them so dangerous we had to perform low-level exorcisms before we could even get near them. William is a marvel, he really is. Jumping from one clue to the next, following the trail from volume to volume, from parchment scrolls to palimpsests to one ancient treatise actually inscribed on thin plates of beaten gold. I’ve been trying to get him to take a rest, but he’s been a driven man ever since you showed him that Kandarian artefact.”

  “Damn,” I said. “It wasn’t that urgent. Has he really been up all night and this morning?”

  “Yes he has,” said William, not looking up from his reading. “And actually, it is that urgent. I’m not deaf, you know. I can hear everything you’re saying. Now then, Eddie, I’ve turned up a great many references to Kandar, and the Invaders. Most of them distinctly worrying, and all of them things you need to know right now. Which is why I brought you here. Rafe, where’s that cup of tea I asked for?”

  Rafe looked at me, but I’d already drunk most of it.

  “I’ll go get another cup,” said Rafe.

  “Never mind, never mind; stick around, Rafe. I want you to hear this as well as Edwin. Make sure I don’t miss anything out. I’m not as sharp as I once was . . . Pay attention, Edwin! This is important! The whole family needs to know this.”

  His voice was getting querulous. Rafe brought forward a chair and William sank gratefully into it. He rubbed tiredly at his forehead. He looked suddenly older, distracted, and worryingly vague abou
t the eyes. When he lowered his hand it was shaking visibly.

  “I meant to go to the funeral,” he said suddenly. “Rafe?”

  “We missed it,” said Rafe. “I did tell you . . . but you said the work was more important.”

  “And so it is! I did mean to go, but . . . What was I saying?”

  “Perhaps you should go to your room and have a little lie down,” I said. “Get your strength back.”

  “No!” William said immediately. “Nothing wrong with me! And there’s no time, no time! Besides . . . I like it here. I’m not really . . . ready, to meet people yet.”

  “But you’re home now,” I said. “Among family.”

  “Especially not family,” William said firmly. “I don’t want any of them to see me like this. I’m not . . . all the way back, yet. I wore Oddly John as my cover for a long time, and he’s very hard to put down. Sometimes I wonder if he’s the real me now, and William is just a memory of someone I used to be, long ago . . . I don’t want to go to my room. I like it here. I find the books . . . comforting. And Rafe. You’re a good boy, Rafe. Make a fine librarian, one day.”

  “You’ll be fine, William,” I said reassuringly. “You just need a little time, to adjust.”

  He didn’t seem to hear me, looking around him in a vague, troubled way. “I hear things. See things. Always off to one side, where I can’t pin them down. I thought that would stop once I left Happy Daze. Maybe they followed me here.” He put his hands together in his lap, to stop them trembling, and then he looked at me. “I think the Heart did something, to my mind. To keep me from telling what I knew. And I think . . . whatever it did . . . it’s still happening.”