Moonbreaker

  Here is the truth, for those who have the strength to hear it. We can all be gods, or devils. We can shine like the stars. We were never meant to stay human. We’re just the chrysalis from which something greater can emerge.

  And the very last thing he said to me.

  Tell the family . . . I’ll be seeing them.

  When the time came to write my official report, I decided my family didn’t need to know any of that. And nothing had happened since to change my opinion.

  “Nothing of any significance was said, Matriarch,” I said finally.

  “That’s not good enough! There must have been something!”

  I shrugged, unmoved by the anger in her voice. “It was a mental contact. A lot of it couldn’t be put into words. All that mattered then was that he agreed to help.”

  “Why did he do that?” said the Librarian.

  “I got the impression . . . because I was family. That still meant something to him.”

  “Could he have changed, after all these years?” said Molly. “If he was released from his tomb, might he be on our side?”

  “Given what he was,” I said, “what he did, and what he meant to do . . . I wouldn’t bet on it. How could we ever trust him again?”

  “Exactly,” said the Matriarch. “Eddie, how would you describe his state of mind? After being buried alive and alone for so many centuries?”

  “I can’t be sure I was the only one ever to talk to him,” I said carefully. “I think we can be sure I was the first Drood, because we have enough sense to stay out of Siberia. Mostly. I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near him if it hadn’t been such an emergency . . .” And then I stopped, as a thought struck me. “In fact, looking back, I have to wonder why I took such a risk. If he’d forced me to raise him from his tomb, I could have let loose something far worse than what I was facing. So why on earth did I do it? Could he have . . . reached out to me? Influenced my mind, to make me contact him?”

  Everyone in the room shuddered, even Molly.

  “You said he didn’t want anything from you,” said the Sarjeant.

  “Not then,” I said.

  “I think I’d better ask Ammonia to take a look inside your head,” said the Librarian. “Just so we can be sure he didn’t put something in there.”

  “Do it,” said the Matriarch.

  “The moment she’s free,” said the Librarian.

  “There’s no need to hurry,” I said. “Or any real need to worry. By the time I’ve caught up with Edmund and dealt with him, there won’t be enough left of me to be a danger to anyone.”

  There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

  “Why is Edmund so interested in Grendel Rex?” the Librarian said finally. “Why concentrate on that book rather than Alpha Red Alpha or the forbidden weapons of the Armageddon Codex? He must know raising Grendel Rex is one hell of a risk.”

  “Perhaps things went differently in his world,” said the Sarjeant.

  “And that’s why Edmund needed our book,” said the Matriarch. “To see how we dealt with the problem.”

  “Releasing Grendel Rex isn’t the problem,” said the Sarjeant. “Staying alive, or at least in charge of your own head afterwards, is what matters. Just because you’ve released the genie from his lamp doesn’t mean you should expect him to be grateful. Edmund must believe he has some way to control the situation.”

  I looked at Molly, and she looked at me. We were both thinking of the great statue of Kali with the blood of human sacrifices caked around her feet.

  “I am getting really tired of seeing that look on your faces!” the Matriarch said loudly. “You’re keeping something from me! From the family! What is it you know that I don’t?”

  “More than you could possibly imagine,” said Molly.

  “We’re telling you everything that’s relevant,” I said. “If we were to run through everything we saw or encountered in the Other World, we’d be at this all day. The Sarjeant is right—and that’s not something I say very often—in that Edmund must have something he thinks will give him power over Grendel Rex.”

  “But what does he need him for?” said Molly.

  “Maybe Edmund thinks it’s his turn to eat the world,” I said.

  “What can we do to prevent this?” said the Matriarch.

  “When Grendel Rex was put down, all those centuries ago,” the Librarian said steadily, “what was done was designed never to be undone. All kinds of protections and defences and really nasty booby-traps were set in place, powerful enough to devastate half of Siberia. I wouldn’t know how to set Grendel Rex loose safely, even if the family decided it was necessary. So I don’t see how Edmund can. It’s always possible we’re worrying over nothing.”

  The Matriarch was already shaking her head. “A lot has changed since the Eleventh Century. We have access to things undreamed of in those days.” And then she looked at the Armourer.

  “Without knowing the exact details of Grendel Rex’s imprisonment, I can’t say how it could be safely undone,” Maxwell said carefully.

  “But we could probably do it,” said Victoria.

  “Oh yes, we could probably do it. With all the things we have now.”

  “You tell them, sweetie.”

  “I am, dear.”

  “Why are we still sitting around talking?” said Molly. “We need to get to Siberia before Edmund does!”

  “No,” I said. “Not until we have some idea of what we’re going to do when we catch up with him.”

  Molly nodded reluctantly.

  “I am open to suggestions,” said the Matriarch. “And informed opinions. If the Unforgiven God were to be set free, after all this time, would he still be as powerful as he was? Would our modern world be as vulnerable? And, most important, would we be able to put him down again? Ethel, in your opinion, could your new armour protect us from Grendel Rex’s mental control?”

  If Ethel was at all surprised at being directly addressed by the Matriarch, after being ignored for so long, she kept it to herself.

  “I really don’t know,” she said. Her voice came out of the air directly above us, calm and relaxed and entirely unmoved by the dangers we’d been discussing. “I have no idea who or what Grendel Rex is. I’m looking all over the world, and Seeing all kinds of Powers and Dominations at work and at play, but nothing like what you’ve been talking about.”

  “What about Siberia?” I said.

  “Looking at it right now,” said Ethel. “Very cold, very still, very empty.”

  I frowned. Grendel Rex’s power should have blazed like a beacon in such a setting. Unless his tomb had been designed to hide him. Or Edmund was already there and concealing both of them.

  The Matriarch turned to the Librarian. “Is there anything you know that might help us?”

  “I’ve been racking my brains ever since I realised which book was missing,” he said slowly. “You know my memory isn’t what it used to be. But from what I remember of the book, and reading between the lines, I think the agents were only able to subdue Grendel Rex because they hit him when he was already severely weakened.”

  “Weakened?” I said. “How? Who by?”

  “There were no details,” said the Librarian. “Which means no one in the family knows any more.”

  I wondered if Peter might have known. If this was one of the secrets he took with him to his grave.

  “We have to locate Edmund,” said the Matriarch. “And stop him before he can release Grendel Rex. Put all our people on it, Sarjeant. Everything from high-tech scanners to scrying pools. I also authorize you to approach all the other hidden agencies and organisations, and offer them whatever they want to give us access to their surveillance facilities. Including all the spy satellites no one will admit to having. This is no time to be proud.”

  “Before you ask,” said Ethel, “I still can??
?t See Edmund. He’s done something to hide himself from me, which is very irritating. He could be standing right there in the Sanctity with you and I wouldn’t know.”

  We all stirred uneasily on our chairs, because we all wanted to look around us, just in case, but no one wanted to go first.

  “Edmund has the Merlin Glass,” said Molly. “He could already be in Siberia.”

  “But Siberia is a really big place,” I said. “Even with the exact coordinates for Grendel Rex’s tomb, he’d still have a lot of hard travelling ahead of him.”

  “You found Grendel Rex,” said Molly.

  “Only mentally,” I said. “Edmund would have to cross miles of frozen tundra, locate the exact spot, and then dig down through the permafrost, in search of one small, human-sized tomb.”

  “I’ll put the whole family to work on this,” said the Sarjeant. “Every department. And call in every favour we’re owed. Edmund is going to find the world can be a very small place, when everyone in it is looking for you.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “You couldn’t find me, when I went rogue.”

  “Or me!” said Molly. “I led this family a merry dance for years!”

  “And Edmund has a lot of experience with staying hidden,” I said. “Both as himself and as Dr DOA.”

  “Mostly you find people by tracking their interactions with other people,” said Molly. “But Edmund doesn’t have anyone.”

  “But he does sometimes need help from other people,” I said. “Ethel! Edmund doesn’t wear a Drood torc these days. The Immortals of his world built him a fake. Could you find him through that?”

  “Yes!” said Ethel. “I can track that! I taught myself how, after an Immortal used a fake torc to sneak into the Hall to try to murder you!”

  “Then why didn’t you spot the fake torc the moment it turned up inside the Hall?” said the Sarjeant. “How could Edmund move back and forth among the family for so long without you noticing his torc was different from everyone else’s?”

  “I was busy,” Ethel said calmly. “I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.”

  There was a long pause, until everyone realised that was all the answer we were going to get.

  “Moving on . . . ,” I said.

  “I have Edmund’s exact location!” said Ethel. “He is not in Siberia. He is currently in the Museum of Unattached Oddities, in Scotland.”

  The room went mad. The Matriarch covered her face with her armoured mask so she could shout orders at the rest of the family. The Sarjeant masked his face so he could shout orders at his people. Maxwell and Victoria armoured up their faces so they could shout at their lab assistants. The Librarian smiled vaguely at me and Molly, and rose unhurriedly to his feet.

  “I don’t think I’m needed here any longer. I’d better get back to where I belong and start my research. Best of luck, Eddie. With everything. And when you find Edmund . . . don’t hesitate. Stamp his head into the ground.”

  “That’s the plan,” I said.

  The Librarian left the Sanctity. The others were so busy behind their masks, they didn’t even notice. Molly turned to me.

  “Museum of what?”

  “The Museum of Unattached Oddities,” I said. “Located in the most uninhabited part of Scotland we could find. It’s a repository for strange and unusual objects with strange and unnatural histories. All the flotsam and jetsam of the hidden world, ancient and modern. The horribly significant, the more-than-usually dangerous, and the merely intriguing. A dumping ground, basically, for all the odd little items that have no proper place in the official way of things.”

  “But why set it in the wilds of Scotland?” Molly said suspiciously.

  “So if anything should go wrong with some of the more unpredictable exhibits, there’ll be no one around to object. If a museum implodes and there’s no one there to see it, does it really matter?”

  “Yes,” said Molly.

  “Well,” I said. “That’s you.”

  “What is Edmund doing there?”

  “I would have thought that was obvious,” I said. “He must believe there’s something in the Museum he can use to safely raise Grendel Rex.”

  “And is there anything?”

  “Beats me. People are always dropping things off without any proper provenance or even an instruction manual.”

  “Are there any weapons in this museum?”

  “Oh sure,” I said. “Along with an awful lot of awful things that could be used as weapons. I wasn’t actually kidding about the imploding.”

  “Tell me these very dangerous items are surrounded by a small army of very heavily armed guards,” said Molly.

  “What?” I said. “And draw attention to them? The whole point of this museum is that only people who need to know even know it exists. Getting to it is hard enough; getting in is even harder. Most people prefer to stick to the annual Catalogue, and view everything from a safe distance.”

  “Tell me there’s some security in place!” said Molly.

  “Oh sure,” I said. “Sort of. Mind you, things might have changed. It’s been years since I was last there.”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “More like dropping off,” I said. “Drood Hall has to go through regular clear-outs, or we’d be up to our chins in clutter. And given that most of it is the kind of stuff you can’t just dispose of on eBay, it needs to go somewhere . . . discreet.”

  Molly gave me a long, thoughtful look. “Why did you never tell me about this museum before?”

  “Because you’d only have tried to rob it.”

  “Fair enough.” Molly frowned. “So . . . lots of really weird shit, and no real security in place. Essentially, Edmund can just walk around this museum and pick up anything he takes a fancy to?”

  “Essentially, yes,” I said. “But a lot of the exhibits are perfectly capable of looking after themselves. Some are cursed, some are protected, and some really don’t like to be bothered. There are parts of the Museum I’d think twice about walking through, even in my armour. Though other areas are perfectly delightful.”

  It occurred to me that no one had said thank you to Ethel for locating Edmund so quickly.

  “No need to thank me,” said Ethel.

  “How did you know I was about to say that?” I said. “Have you been peeking inside my head?”

  She sniffed loudly, a disquieting sound from a disembodied being. “Like I’d lower myself. It’s a wonder to me you can live in anything that small. Have you ever considered adding an extension?”

  “I’ve missed these little chats of ours,” I said. “I haven’t had a decent headache in ages. Are you and the Matriarch talking again?”

  “I never stopped,” said Ethel.

  Maxwell and Victoria suddenly made their masks disappear and rose to their feet in perfect unison. Still holding each other’s hands.

  “Matters are now in hand!” said Maxwell.

  “Very much in hand,” said Victoria.

  “We’ll get you to the Museum as quickly as possible,” said Maxwell.

  “One way or another,” said Victoria.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I said.

  They smiled politely. I turned to Molly.

  “No, I can’t teleport us,” she said immediately. “I’ve used up so much of my magics, I’m running on fumes. Right now, I couldn’t pull a hat out of a rabbit.”

  I yelled at the Matriarch and the Sarjeant until they dropped their masks and looked at me with varying amounts of guilt for having forgotten all about me.

  “What do you want, Eddie?” said the Matriarch.

  “Transport,” I said. “We’re a long way from the wilds of Scotland, and Molly and I need to get to the Museum in time to stop Edmund from doing whatever it is he’s doing that we don’t want him to.”

 
The Matriarch looked at the Armourer, and they both stood a little straighter and tried to look like professionals.

  “The old Armourer’s racing Bentley is still in the garage,” said Maxwell. “Undergoing extensive renovations, after Eddie’s last little excursion in it.”

  “You must have other cars!” said Molly.

  “Of course we do,” said Maxwell. “Flying cars, underwater cars, cars that can take shortcuts through dimensions that don’t necessarily exist. And they are all out being used. We do have other field agents, you know.”

  “Normally I’d offer you one of our dimension-hopping bracelets,” said Victoria. “But we had to issue a recall.”

  “And all our long-range dimensional Doors have been signed out,” said Maxwell. “By the time we can call somebody back . . .”

  “There’s always the Blackhawke jets,” said Victoria. “But I don’t think there’s a suitable landing site anywhere near the Museum. If I’m remembering correctly, and I’m pretty sure I am, it’s a really rough location.”

  “You are entirely correct, as always,” said Maxwell. “When we say the Museum is out in the wilds, we mean all the way out. As in, several hours from anywhere civilised. No roads, no . . . anything, really.”

  “The kind of area you won’t find on any official map,” said Victoria. “Because its existence would only depress people.”

  “We’re talking about miles of moorland, peat bogs, and the kind of nature that’s usually referred to as actively hazardous,” said Maxwell.