From a Drood to A Kill: A Secret Histories Novel

  “Come on,” I said. “That was never going to work.”

  “It might have!” she said. “I put hours into researching that spell.”

  “You didn’t really think you could overcome Drood armour all on your own, did you?”

  Molly smiled dazzlingly. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

  The two guards stepped forward, long golden sword blades extending from their armoured hands. I was glad to see they’d been practising. Drood armour can be reshaped by the will of its occupant, but it takes a lot of concentration to hold the new shape. It was clear from the way the guards stood that they knew what they were doing. They looked practised and prepared, and properly dangerous. Everything a Drood should be. Good for them. I reached through the golden armour at my hip, into the pocket dimension I keep there, and brought out the Merlin Glass. One of the guards had just enough time to say, “Oh shit,” before I shook the Glass out to Door size and clapped it quickly over each guard in turn, sending them through the Glass and out into the Drood grounds. Where they could probably have a very interesting conversation with the Serjeant-at-Arms. I shook the Merlin Glass back down to hand-mirror size and put it away again.

  “So,” said Molly. “That thing has decided to start working again, has it?”

  “When it feels like it,” I said.

  “What would you have done if the Glass hadn’t worked?”

  “Improvised,” I said. “Suddenly and violently and all over the place.”

  “Always works for me,” said Molly. She stopped and looked at me thoughtfully. “Okay, why did the Glass work against the armoured Droods, when my magic wouldn’t?”

  “It’s the Merlin Glass,” I said. “Can’t help feeling the clue is in the name.”

  We stood together before the closed Sanctity doors. One last barrier, standing between me . . . and what I’d come for. The alarms and bells and sirens were still giving it their all, and I could also hear a great many feet heading in our direction, but for the moment we had the corridor to ourselves. I looked at Molly.

  “You ready to do this?”

  “Of course,” said Molly. “Looking forward to it.”

  I tried the door handle, and as I suspected, the door was locked. I raised my voice.

  “Ethel! Open the doors, please. If you wouldn’t mind. I’d hate to have to seriously damage anything.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Molly.

  I felt as much as heard a quiet, resigned sigh, and then the doors unlocked themselves, swinging slowly open before us.

  I strode into the Sanctity with my head held high, Molly moving proudly at my side. The massive open space of the old wood-panelled chamber was almost completely deserted, and suffused with a rose-red glow that emanated from no obvious source. The only physical manifestation of Ethel’s presence. Under normal circumstances the rose- red light was soothing and calming to the troubled soul, but I was so full of anger and a deep sense of injustice that I barely felt it. I don’t think Molly has ever felt it. She’s not a calm person. She stopped just inside the entrance, as the doors slowly closed themselves, so she could block the way against anyone who might come in after us. I walked slowly forward, and there, waiting for me, was the family’s new Matriarch. Margaret.

  She stood alone, staring defiantly back at me, unsupported by any member of her advisory Council, unprotected by any guards. Margaret was a short, stocky blonde, with hair so close-cropped it was almost military. She wore a battered bomber jacket over seriously distressed jeans, and much-worn work boots with trailing laces. She might have been taken away from her beloved grounds and gardens, and forced to run the family as the next in line; but no one was ever going to make her like it. Or look the part. Margaret had a firm mouth, fierce eyes, and a general air of barely suppressed fury.

  “All right!” she said sharply. “You’ve got my attention. Now what is so important you had to force your way into the Hall and insist on seeing me, even though I already told you I was far too busy? Have you come back to take my position as head of the family by force, Eddie? Like you threatened to, the last time you were here? Because if you want it, you can have it. And I can go back to my gardens. I’m sure they miss me.”

  “I don’t want to run the family,” I said, very firmly. I armoured down, so she could see my face and see that I meant it. She relaxed, just a little.

  “I hate being the Matriarch,” said the woman who not that long ago used to be called Capability Maggie. When all she had to worry about was maintaining the Hall’s extensive grounds and gardens. “Far too much responsibility, no time to myself, hardly ever a free minute to stroll round the flower beds and see how the new seedlings are coming along. I’d quit in a minute if they’d let me.”

  “Hell,” Molly said calmly, “I’ll take the position, if no one else wants it. Just think what I could do to an unsuspecting world with a whole army of Droods to back me up.”

  The Matriarch and I both looked at Molly, thought about it, and winced pretty much simultaneously.

  “That . . . is a truly disturbing thought,” I said.

  “You could never take charge of the Droods,” the Matriarch said coldly to Molly. “You’re not family. Even if you should eventually marry Eddie, which a whole lot of us doubt, that still wouldn’t make you one of us. Only a pure-blooded Drood can be Matriarch.”

  “Yeah,” said Molly. “Because that’s always worked out so well in the past.”

  “If we could just tiptoe back into the realms of reality,” I said. “We have something important to discuss, Matriarch. I came here to talk to you about something specific, and I will not be stopped or diverted.”

  “You’ve made that clear enough,” said the Matriarch. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to us, Eddie. Untold damage, injured family members, and chaos everywhere. All because you couldn’t be bothered to make a proper appointment, like reasonable people.”

  “There’s no point in being reasonable with this family,” I said. “I have tried it, and it never works. Because it takes two to be reasonable.”

  “What do you want, Eddie?” said the Matriarch, meeting my gaze unflinchingly.

  “You know what I want! You promised me the family would use all its resources to track down my missing parents! It’s been months since they vanished from the Casino Infernale in France, and you haven’t come up with a single damned lead!”

  “We’ve been busy!” said the Matriarch. “The world doesn’t just stand still because you’ve got a problem! We have to hold Humanity’s hand and blow its nose, and protect it from a thousand different threats it doesn’t even know exist, all day and every night, with never a break. And there are, after all, very real limits to this family’s time and budget. We deal with the most important matters first. Everything else . . . has to take its place in the queue. Charles and Emily aren’t even officially members of the family any more. Like you, Eddie. You walked out on us, remember? Turned your back on family duty and responsibilities so you could run off to work with your precious grandfather in the Department of Uncanny. Who, let us face it, have never been more than second-raters in the secret organisation stakes. And you think you have a right to demand full access to the family’s limited time and resources?”

  “After everything I’ve done for this family?” I said. “Damn right I do.”

  Even I could hear the dangerous chill in my voice. The Matriarch looked away, unable to meet my gaze.

  “The general feeling is,” she said finally, “that if Charles and Emily are still missing it’s because they want to be.”

  “Don’t give me that,” I said. “This family can find anyone, if they want to. Ethel!”

  “Yes, Eddie!” said the warm, comforting voice, from everywhere at once. “Welcome home! Always good to have you around. You do liven things up so. Did you bring me a present? You know I love presents.”

 
“Yes,” I said. “But you’re very difficult to buy for. What do you get the other-dimensional entity who is everything? Come on, Ethel. Why can’t you just See where my parents are? I thought you said you could See anything, anywhere.”

  “I can! I can See everything that exists, and a good many things that shouldn’t. I can See things you humans don’t even have concepts for. But your parents remain . . . stubbornly elusive. They don’t have torcs, so I can’t track them that way; and when I try to look for them . . . wherever I look, they aren’t there. So I can only assume they’re no longer in this world.”

  A cold hand clutched at my heart. “Are you saying . . . they’re dead?”

  “I didn’t say that. There are, after all, all kinds of realities. Some so distanced from this one, or so carefully concealed, that even I can’t look into them. My abilities are very limited by my current circumstances. You have no idea what I’ve given up to take care of you Droods.”

  “If you want all of our resources turned loose on your private problem, Eddie,” said the Matriarch, refusing to be left out of the conversation, “if you want to ask a personal favour from the family, you’re going to have to do a favour for the family.”

  I looked at her slowly, consideringly, and to her credit she didn’t flinch.

  “I just knew that was coming,” said Molly. “Didn’t you just know that was coming?”

  “A favour?” I said. “Like what?”

  The Matriarch stirred uncomfortably, at something she heard in my voice. She chose her words carefully.

  “We do have a case pending that the family needs to deal with but that we would prefer to keep at arm’s length. Essentially straight forward, but ripe with pitfalls for the unwary. A case that could quite definitely benefit from your . . . special touch.”

  “Hold it,” said Molly. “I’ve just remembered something I wanted to ask! Do you know what’s happening with the Department of Uncanny? Have you heard who’s going to be put in charge?”

  The Matriarch looked at her. She would have liked to be impatient, but everyone knew there was no point in trying to push past Molly when she had something on her mind. She had a tendency to throw things. Often large jaggedy pointy things. The Matriarch did allow herself a loud sigh, just on general principles.

  “As far as I know,” she said, “the Government hasn’t decided whether they’re going to keep Uncanny going, as a separate Department. It was almost completely destroyed, and most of its people killed. The Government might just fold what’s left into MI 13, or replace it with something new. I understand Black Heir is very keen to take on Uncanny’s responsibilities, and expand their area of influence in the hidden world.”

  Molly snorted loudly. “Black Heir? That bunch of vultures? Picking over the technological trash aliens leave behind when they have to get the hell out of Dodge in a hurry. They’re just looking to increase their power base.”

  “Well, yes,” said the Matriarch. “That’s what Government Departments do. I understand there’s a lot of interdepartmental jousting going on right now, as everyone fights it out for promotion. There are careers waiting to be made out of situations like this.” She looked at me steadily. “Do you still consider yourself part of Uncanny, Eddie?”

  “No,” I said. “I only went along to be close to my grandfather. Now the Regent of Shadows is gone . . .”

  “So who are you with now?” said the Matriarch.

  “Remains to be seen,” I said, not giving an inch. “Doesn’t it?”

  “You’re family, Eddie,” said the Matriarch. “You can always come home.” She paused to glare coldly at Molly. “Even if you do bring some baggage with you.”

  Molly’s head came up immediately. “Eddie! Tell me she did not just call me a baggage!”

  “She did not just call you a baggage,” I said.

  “Yes, she did! I heard her!”

  “Then why did you ask me?” I said.

  “To give you a chance to say the right thing!”

  “Now, you know very well I’m never any good at that,” I said. “Can’t we all just agree that everyone must have misheard and move on?”

  Molly was still pouting dangerously, so it was probably just as well that the Sanctity doors burst open and the Serjeant-at-Arms launched himself into the Sanctity, armoured up and guns in hand, ready for action. And then he stopped, and looked around, as he realised there was no obvious trouble going on. He saw I wasn’t wearing my armour any more, and immediately armoured down himself, rather than be outdone by me in the calm-and-controlled stakes. The guns in his hands remained pointed at me and Molly. We both made a point of appearing conspicuously unimpressed, while being careful to make no sudden moves. They were very big and very impressive guns.

  “Stand down, Serjeant!” the Matriarch said loudly. “I am perfectly safe, and completely in control of the situation!”

  The Serjeant didn’t look like he believed a word of that, but he nodded reluctantly, and the guns disappeared from his hands. He drew himself up to his full height, looking more than ever like the world’s most dangerous butler, and glowered coldly at me and Molly. We glared right back at him. Never show a moment of weakness to anyone in my family. They’ll only take advantage.

  “If it was up to me, I’d have you shot on sight,” the Serjeant said flatly. “Every time you come home, Eddie, you bring trouble with you. When you aren’t starting it yourself. I demand to know what has happened to the black box the previous Matriarch left you in her will! The contents of which could supposedly put you in complete control of this family, against all opposition!”

  “Oh, that box,” I said. “It’s around somewhere. I’m sure I could put my hand on it if I felt I needed to.”

  “It belongs with the family!” said the Serjeant-at-Arms.

  “But it was left to me,” I said. “If my grandmother had wanted you to know about it I’m sure she would have told you.”

  “You must know you can’t be allowed to keep it,” he said. “It’s an open threat to the family! What if someone else got their hands on it?”

  “Who’s going to take it from me?” I said.

  “You can go now, Serjeant,” said the Matriarch in her most commanding voice. “I need to speak privately with Eddie. And Molly. You need to go calm the family down and check out the security situation. Make sure no one tries to take advantage and sneak in while we’re all . . . distracted. And for God’s sake shut those bloody alarms off! Can’t hear myself think!”

  The Serjeant made a quick gesture with one hand, and all the alarms and bells and sirens shut down. The sudden peace and quiet was an almost physical relief. The Serjeant scowled at me, and then at the Matriarch.

  “He broke into the Hall! Threw the whole family into confusion, did all kinds of property damage, and made a joke of our defences! Are you really going to let him get away with that?”

  The Matriarch stood her ground and stared him down. “Yes. I am. Because if you hadn’t let internal security become so slack, this would never have happened. He should never have been able to get this far! I’d say we owe him our thanks, for demonstrating so clearly all the shortcomings in our current defences. It’s high time we ran more practise drills.”

  “I thought that!” I said.

  “I know,” said Ethel. “I heard you.”

  The Serjeant-at-Arms stared at the Matriarch with a look of betrayal, then abruptly turned around and stomped out of the Sanctity. Not quite slamming the door behind him.

  “That man desperately needs more fibre in his diet,” said Ethel. Just a bit unexpectedly.

  “Can we please now return to the subject at hand?” said the Matriarch. “Because the case I was talking about is just the tiniest bit urgent.”

  “All right,” I said. “What is this new mission that I’m so perfectly suited for?”

  “And if it’s so straig
htforward,” said Molly, “why does it have to be Eddie?”

  “Because there are . . . complications,” said the Matriarch.

  “Of course,” I said. “Aren’t there always? What kind of complications are we talking about? Things or people?”

  “Let’s just say I could use a Drood who isn’t really a Drood,” said the Matriarch.

  “Ah,” I said. “Are we talking plausible deniability?”

  “Possibly,” said the Matriarch. “If this should go wrong, suddenly and horribly and embarrassingly wrong, I don’t want the repercussions coming anywhere near this family. It doesn’t matter if you do something to upset the Government, they already hate and loathe you, with good reason. But I have to work with these people. The days when we could just tell Governments what to do are, unfortunately, behind us. Thanks to you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  “You took away our authority! You neutered the family!”

  “I saved our soul!” I said, not backing down an inch. “We were only ever meant to be Humanity’s shepherds, not their owners! I did what was necessary to prevent us from becoming worse than the things we fight. Now, what kind of case are we talking about, exactly? Bearing in mind I still haven’t committed myself to anything yet.”

  “Just a simple infiltration and information-gathering assignment,” said the Matriarch. A little too smoothly for my liking.

  “Good,” I said. “Because there’s something important I need to tell you first.”

  The Matriarch looked quickly from me to Molly, and back again. “This isn’t going to be anything good, is it?”

  “I have decided,” I said, “that from now on . . . I’m not going to kill anyone. I have had to do that too many times. I am a field agent, not an assassin.”

  The Matriarch looked at me searchingly, not sure where this had come from or where it was going. “Has something happened, Eddie? You’ve killed your fair share in the service of this family and never said anything before.”