“How do you know all this stuff,” said Molly, “if he’s been locked up here for so long?”
“It’s my business to know things,” said Peter.
“You’ve talked to him before, haven’t you?” I said.
Peter smiled briefly. “When you’re one of the family’s very-secret agents, dealing with the kind of extraordinary problems that are our special remit, you’re allowed access to anything you might need. And what we’re not allowed access to, we take, anyway, and never tell anyone, so as not to upset them.”
“You had personal access to the hidden areas,” I said. “And all the things in them. No wonder none of this came as a surprise to you.”
“I thought you knew an awful lot about everything we found,” said Molly. “Historian, my arse.”
“Just part of the job,” Peter said patiently. “To know the things no one else knew. And to carry the burden of that knowledge. When I die a hell of a lot of secrets will die with me, and that’s probably for the best. Droods have become so much more soft-hearted and sentimental than in my day. Which might or might not be a good thing.” He turned back to the man in the iron cage.
“Oracle! Where is Edmund Drood right now?”
“He’s in the Old Library,” said the oracle. His voice was surprisingly calm and uninflected, though his gaze was as fierce as ever.
“Right,” said Peter, turning his back on the oracle. “Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute!” said Molly. “I want to talk to him! I have questions of my own to put to him.”
“Really not a good idea,” said Peter. “We have what we need. Settle for that. More questions will just give him more chances to hurt you.”
“Don’t get in my way,” said Molly. “Or I’ll hurt you.”
Peter looked at me, and I shrugged.
“She’s a big girl. She can look after herself.”
“You don’t understand,” said Peter. “And you’re wasting time.”
“No,” I said, “you’re wasting time arguing. The best thing we can do is step back out of Molly’s way and let her get on with it. And pick up the pieces afterwards, if need be. Molly, keep it quick and to the point, please. The clock is ticking.”
“I know,” said Molly. “That’s why I’m doing this.”
We both knew which clock I was talking about, and that it had nothing to do with finding Edmund. Molly glared at the man in the iron cage.
“Oracle! How can I save Eddie?”
“You can’t,” he said, smiling his unnerving smile.
“How can he be saved from what’s killing him?”
“He can’t.”
“There must be something I can do!” said Molly.
She stepped right up to the bars to glare into the oracle’s face. He grinned back at her, meeting her angry eyes with his unwavering stare. Molly looked at Peter.
“Why isn’t he answering me?”
“Because you didn’t ask him a question,” said Peter. “Don’t do this, Molly. Don’t do this to yourself.”
Molly ignored him, fixing her gaze on the oracle again. “Is there a way out for Eddie? Is there a way for him to survive what’s killing him?”
“Yes,” said the oracle.
“What is it?”
“He has to let go, and die,” said the oracle.
Molly made an ugly sound. She thrust her hand through the bars of the cage and grabbed the oracle by the throat. He didn’t even flinch as she cut off his breath. I tensed, ready to intervene, but Peter was already talking quietly to Molly.
“You can’t kill him. You can’t even hurt him. The cage protects and preserves him, as well as imprisoning him. You’re not the first person to react that way to the answers he gives.”
Molly let go of the oracle and stepped back from the cage, breathing hard. She turned to me and there were tears in her eyes, even though she refused to shed them.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. I don’t know what else to do. What else to ask.”
“I told you,” said Peter. “He never says anything useful, if he can help it. That’s his revenge for being forced to tell the truth. Leave him. We know where Edmund is now, so let’s go there and take out our bad feelings on him.”
“Hold it,” I said. “We can’t just leave the oracle here. Not standing upright forever, locked inside an iron coffin. I don’t care what he’s supposed to have done. This is just . . . wrong.”
“You’re not the first person to feel that way,” said Peter. “But you’re wrong. Oracle, what would you do if you were set free?”
“I would put an end to all the Droods,” said the oracle, smiling happily. “And then dance among their bodies. I could do that, with all the things I know. I could set the whole family at each other’s throats, with just the right combination of concealed secrets and subtle misdirections. I would stand there and watch, and laugh and laugh and laugh as they slaughtered each other.
“And then . . . I would go forth into the world and walk up and down in it, spreading truth and misery until absolutely everyone was dead. And then maybe I’d get a little peace and quiet at last. There are far too many people cluttering up the place. The world won’t miss them.”
“You see?” said Peter, when the oracle finally stopped talking. “He’s here for a reason. His words are poison.”
“Still doesn’t make this right,” I said.
“No,” said Peter. “But it is necessary.”
He walked out of the room. I looked at the oracle, at his mad, pitiless eyes . . . And then I followed Peter out. Molly came with me, and didn’t say anything until we were all out of the room and the door was firmly shut behind us.
“I really hoped he might know something. Something we’d missed.”
“It’s all right, Molly,” I said. I hugged her to me and cradled her bowed head on my chest. “I gave up on the idea of a miracle cure, or even a last-minute save, long ago. I know I’m not getting out of this alive.”
“I haven’t given up on you,” said Molly, pushing herself away from me. “I’ll never give up.”
Yes you will, I thought. Eventually.
Peter rubbed his hands together briskly. “At least now we know where Edmund is. Let us go there and give him the bad news, before he goes somewhere else.” He frowned briefly. “What do you suppose he’s doing in the Old Library?”
“Looking for something he can use against us,” I said.
Peter nodded unhappily. “In the Old Library, that could cover a hell of a lot of ground.” He took the portable dimensional Door out of his pocket and hefted the pulsing black blob on his palm. “Are you ready? To do what we have to? You know we can’t let Edmund get away.”
“Don’t worry,” said Molly, and her voice was a very cold thing. “If Eddie doesn’t kill him, I will.”
“Never doubted it for a moment,” Peter said graciously. He looked at me. “Seriously scary girlfriend.”
“You have no idea,” I said.
• • •
Once we were all inside the Old Library, Peter peeled the Door off the air and nodded, satisfied, as though now we were finally here the hard part of the job was over. But he only thought that because he didn’t know Edmund. I knew better. The Old Library seemed entirely empty, nothing but row upon row of tall wooden stacks crammed full of all kinds of books, stretching away into the distance and the shadows. Not that different from the Old Library we’d found in the Other Hall, except that here the light was a warm and cheerful butterscotch yellow. Restful to the eyes, and a comfort to the soul.
“I sort of thought the Librarian would still be here,” said Molly. “You know William hates to leave the Library for any reason.”
“I think even he’d move for a mass evacuation,” I said. “And even if he didn’t, Yorith would see to it that he did. Yorith might only be Assistant L
ibrarian, but he has enough common sense for both of them. I do wish you’d stop smirking, Molly, every time I use the word evacuation.”
Molly smiled sweetly. “You have to take your humour where you can find it on days like this.”
I looked around carefully, peering into the deep, dark shadows between the stacks. It was all very still and very quiet. Even for the Old Library.
“I don’t see Edmund,” I said.
“The oracle said he was here,” said Peter. “And he can’t lie.”
“William once told me the Old Library was bigger than the entire Hall,” said Molly. “Which means there are lots of places where Edmund could be hiding.”
“And I know most of them,” said Peter. “I spent a lot of time here, back in the day, researching cases.”
“Before or after I rediscovered it and handed it back to the family?” I said.
Peter just smiled.
“Why would Edmund go to such lengths to empty out the entire Hall, just so he could have the Old Library to himself?” said Molly.
“He must be looking for something he believes he can use as a weapon,” I said.
“Like what?” said Molly.
“Take your pick!” I said. “Grimoires of forgotten lore. Repositories of forbidden technology. Books that can tell you how to put out the sun or poison people’s dreams. Information on where to find Doors into Heaven or Hell or all the places in between. Knowledge is power. That’s how my family has stayed in charge for so long.”
“But what do you think he’s looking for?” said Molly.
I thought about it. “He didn’t know about his Hall’s Old Library. So it must be something he learned here, while he was swanning around, pretending to be me.”
“For every weapon there’s a defence,” said Peter. “For every threat a response, and someone in the family ready to provide it. That’s what the Droods are all about. So what does Edmund know, or think he knows, that he still believes could bring us down?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Molly. “He’s not going to get the chance.”
She conjured up a small ball of magical energies. It bobbed on the air before her, spitting and crackling and discharging stray magics into the atmosphere in its eagerness to be about its business. “Find Edmund!” said Molly in a voice like a death sentence, and the ball shot off into the stacks. Molly went sprinting after it, with me right behind her, and Peter puffing along in the rear. The fizzing ball of energy darted in and out of the stacks, following a trail only it could see, like a bloodhound in hot pursuit.
Until finally we rounded a corner and there was Edmund, sitting quietly at a reading desk, with a large leather-bound volume open before him. The ball bobbed up and down excitedly over his head and then snapped off, its business done. Edmund smiled easily at us, and closed the book in front of him.
“I knew you were on your way. You’d be surprised how far sound carries in a place like this. I could have just left, but I wanted a word with you first, Eddie.”
“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” I said. Just looking at him, at the face so very like my own, I could feel a hot, killing rage building in me.
“But we should talk,” said Edmund, entirely unmoved by what he must have heard in my voice. “We have so much in common, after all. Perhaps we could say things to each other that we could never say to anyone else. No? As you wish . . . How are you feeling, Eddie? Frankly, it’s a wonder to me you’re not dead. Must be down to that wonderful torc Ethel made for you. What I could have done with such a thing in my world.”
“You should have killed me while you had the chance,” I said.
“I did,” said Edmund. “Oh, you mean in the Armoury? It would have taken too long, attracted too much attention.”
“Did you really think that trap would hold us?” said Molly.
“No,” said Edmund. “But, then, it didn’t have to. I just needed a little time in here to myself, to find what I was looking for. And I did!”
He patted the closed book in front of him, as though it was a favoured pet.
“What have you found?” I said.
Edmund grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Shut up, Edmund,” said Molly coldly. “It’s time for you to die.”
“I’m not dying,” said Edmund. “That’s Eddie.”
He stood up behind his desk, taking his time about it to show it was his idea. Molly started to raise a hand, and Edmund held the book up in front of him. I put a staying hand on Molly’s arm. The book might be important or valuable, and it might well be able to defend itself. Molly shrugged off my hand but held her peace. For the moment.
“You can’t hide behind that book forever, Edmund,” I said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and tucked the book jauntily under one arm. He smiled slyly at me. “Did you enjoy your time in my Hall? Still lots of interesting things to see there, even now they’ve dragged all the bodies out. Look what I picked up the last time I was there.” His left hand came up holding a long straight razor. He flicked open the heavy blade with a practiced movement, and the exposed steel shone supernaturally bright. Edmund smirked at it fondly. “This was taken from the cold, dead hand of the very last Springheel Jack, after my family took him down. Because we really don’t like competition, do we? A blade with an edge so sharp it can cut through anything.” He giggled suddenly. “How do you defeat people in armour? Find a better can-opener!”
He moved out from behind the desk, the book under his arm and the straight razor in his hand. Molly stabbed a finger, and a vicious magic shot at Edmund, lightning fast. The long steel blade seemed almost to move on its own and intercepted the magic. The flaring bolt hit the glowing metal and ricocheted away, disappearing harmlessly off into the stacks. Edmund smiled at Molly.
“I think of everything. Including acquiring a blade capable of killing my annoyingly persistent other self and his bitch.”
“Don’t,” I said quickly to Molly. “If your next ricochet hits the wrong book, the whole Library could go up.”
“I had planned to set fire to the place before I left,” Edmund said wistfully. “But you know how it is: so many heartwarming ideas and so little time. How did you find me so quickly? No, no; it doesn’t matter. I don’t even care who that old fart at your side is. I’m leaving now. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Give me the ruby, Eddie,” said Peter.
“What? No!”
“It’s the only chance we have of stopping him! Look at him; he doesn’t know what we’re talking about. He won’t have any defences against it!”
I armoured up my hand and pulled out the Grim Gulf. My head was immediately full of screaming voices, cut off the moment I placed the ruby in Peter’s armoured hand. He held it up so Edmund could see it.
“It’s very nice, I suppose,” he said, frowning. “Were you thinking of bribing me, perhaps?”
“Not even close,” said Peter.
He crushed the ruby in his golden hand. I thought I heard it scream before it fell apart in a stream of crimson splinters, but the sound was quickly drowned out by a roar of triumphant voices as thirteen medieval demons in full Drood armour appeared in the Old Library. Huge and awful, they towered over us, great golden batwings spreading out from crooked backs. They had clawed hands, cloven hooves, and lashing tails, and golden goat’s horns thrust up from their armoured brows. They were laughing, a hideous sound, full of vicious exultation . . . and a never-ending need to do terrible things, and glory in it. The sound of the Pit, let loose in the mortal world.
The Demon Droods.
Edmund seemed genuinely shocked. He looked at his straight razor, and then at the laughing Demon Droods . . . and just like that he wasn’t smiling any more. He closed the razor with a snap and thrust it into his pocket, pulled out the Merlin Glass, and sh
ook it out to Door size. And then he walked through the Door and was gone, and the Glass disappeared after him.
Leaving me and Molly and Peter alone in the Old Library, with thirteen Demon Droods.
“Ah,” said Peter. “Now, I really didn’t expect him to do that. Sorry.”
The Demon Droods turned to face us, their clawed hands flexing slowly. Mouths appeared in their face masks, stretching into wide grins to reveal row upon row of jagged teeth. The air was full of blood and sulphur and sour milk: the stench of Hell.
“Peter,” I said, “please tell me you can put them back in the Grim Gulf.”
“Of course I can’t!” he said, his voice rising almost hysterically. “I had to smash it to release them! The idea was they’d wear themselves out taking down Edmund, while we stood back and watched. And after they’d exhausted themselves killing him, we’d be able to take them.”
“Do you at least know some control Words?” said Molly. “The family must have had some form of authority over them!”
“If they did, no one remembers what,” said Peter. “Look, I’m really sorry, all right? I don’t seem to have thought this through . . .”
I was ready to shout and curse at him, but one look was enough to show me the man was actually trembling with fear and horror. In the past he would have had a fall-back position, another game plan to run with, but after so long out of the field he wasn’t the man he used to be. He’d let his confidence run away with him. Peter looked at me helplessly, and I looked to Molly.
“I bow to your superior knowledge of demonkind, O wicked witch of the woods. What can we do?”
“I can summon them up and I can send them back down,” said Molly. “But only when they’re safely confined inside a pentacle, with all the proper wards and protections in place. These are nothing like the half-breeds we’re used to dealing with; these are full demonic presences, with all the power of the Pit. Such things were never meant to walk in this world. They could break it just by walking up and down in it. What were your ancestors thinking of, Eddie?”