Book 1 - The Man With the Golden Torc (46 page)

She stepped forward, raising Torc Cutter, and the Armourer
snapped out a single Word. The ugly black shears jumped right out of Alexandra’s
hands and into the Armourer’s. She looked at him with something like shock as he
stuffed the shears carelessly into his coat pocket, smiling smugly.

"I put a Safe Word into everything that passes through my lab,
just in case they should fall into the wrong hands. And all the most deadly
weapons have passed through the Armoury just recently, thanks to the Matriarch’s
instructions. Mother always was a little paranoid, and luckily she passed a
healthy dose of it on to her children." He then took a needle gun out of his
other pocket and shot Alexandra in the throat. She just had time to slap a hand
to her neck, and then she crumpled to the floor, out like a light. The Armourer
blew imaginary smoke off the barrel of his gun, and then put it away again. "I
always keep that handy for when my lab assistants get a bit overexcited. She’ll
sleep for an hour or so. Put her somewhere comfortable, Eddie, while I go get
the key for the Codex."

"Then you’ll help me?" I said.

"Yes. I won’t let you die with a traitor’s name hanging over
you, Eddie. I can do that much for you. Besides, if Alexandra’s running around
armed with Torc Cutter, God alone knows what else is out there. You’re going to
need Oath Breaker."

"I promise I’ll return it safely," I said.

"Too bloody right you will," said the Armourer. "Don’t make me
come after you, Eddie. I know some dirty tricks you never dreamed of in all your
years in the field."

"I always wondered why your old files were blocked," I said.

Molly and I propped Alexandra up in a corner. She muttered
querulously in her sleep, but that was all. Molly looked down at her.

"Would she really have killed you with that thing?"

"Probably," I said.

"Want me to kick her while she’s down?"

"No. I don’t do that."

"Wimp." She looked at me consideringly. "So, this Alexandra was
once an old flame of yours?"

"A long time ago," I said. "When we were both a lot younger. She
wasn’t always like this, you know. You’re not jealous, are you?"

"Me? No! Why would I be jealous? I’ve had lots of boyfriends in
my time. Dozens!"

"They probably didn’t appreciate you like I do," I said.

The family keeps the Armageddon Codex in a pocket dimension for
extra security. Only the Armourer and his designated successor can even approach
it, let alone access it. The Codex contains the family’s most powerful weapons,
too dangerous to be used unless reality itself is under threat. Normally you
have to fill out reams of paperwork before you’re even allowed to approach the
Matriarch with a request. The Armourer was trusting me a lot, to let me take
Oath Breaker. He wouldn’t do that, for all his sympathy, unless he was already
convinced that there was something seriously wrong with the family.

To get to the Armageddon Codex, you have to pass through the
Lion’s Jaws. At the very back of what used to be the old wine cellars, before
they were converted into the present armoury, there is a giant stone carving of
a lion’s head, complete with mane. Perfect in every detail, twenty feet tall and
almost as wide, carved out of the dark blue-veined stone that makes up the
cellar’s furthest reaches. The lion’s eyes seem to glare, the mouth seems to
snarl, and the whole thing looks like life itself frozen in stone. As though
just waiting to pounce, if it could only force the rest of its body through the
stone wall that held it. Not all that surprisingly, Molly fell in love with it
at first sight and stood right before the stone face, running her hands over the
detailed carving and cooing delightedly.

The Armourer stepped up to the lion’s snarling mouth and slipped
a long brass key into a hole in the mouth that I couldn’t even see. He turned
the key twice, subvocalising a whole series of Words, and then withdrew the key
and stepped smartly back as the Lion’s Jaws grated slowly open. The upper lip
rose steadily, operated by some hidden mechanism, revealing huge jagged teeth,
above and below. The jaws continued to open, until the lion’s mouth gaped wide,
revealing a tunnel big enough to walk through without having to duck your head.
The throat of the lion, which led to the Armageddon Codex.

"Is it…alive?" Molly murmured.

"We don’t think so, but no one knows for sure," I said. "It’s as
old as the house. Maybe older. The family might have made it, or just made use
of it. Legend has it that if you pass through the Lion’s Jaws, you must be pure
of heart and pure of purpose, or the jaws will close on you."

"And then?" said Molly.

"Have you never seen anyone eaten by a stone head?" said the
Armourer.

"I did, once," I said. "I was down in Cornwall—"

"I was speaking rhetorically!" snapped the Armourer. "I’m sorry,
Molly, my dear; he always was terribly literal, even as a child."

"You mean it really does eat people?" said Molly. "If they’re
not…pure in heart?"

"Oh, yes," I said.

"Think I’ll wait out here," said Molly.

"Relax," said the Armourer. "It’s just a story we tell the
children to stop them from messing around with the jaws. The crafty little
buggers are always getting into things they’re not supposed to. Trust me, Molly;
you’ll be perfectly safe as long as you’re with us. Just as well, really. I
haven’t been pure in heart since I was ten years old, with my first erection."

He waggled his bushy eyebrows at her, and Molly smiled
dutifully. She still stood very close to me as we followed the Armourer through
the Lion’s Jaws and down its throat into the Armageddon Codex. Which turned out
to be just another stone cavern but with terrible weapons hanging in rows upon
the stone walls, like ornaments in Hell. Some hung on plaques; others stood in
special niches carved from the bare stone. None of them were identified; either
you knew what they were and what they could do, or you had no business touching
them. I knew some of the weapons by sight and reputation from my extensive
reading in the library.

There was Sunwrack, for putting out the stars one at a time.
Beside it was the Juggernaut Jumpsuit. And there, the Time Hammer, for changing
the past through brute force.

The Armourer noted me studying the hammer and nodded quickly.
"Studying that gave me the idea for the reverse watch I gave you, Eddie. A lot
of thought went into that. I hope you’re taking good care of it."

I just nodded absently, still fascinated by the terrible weapons
arrayed before me, things I’d never dreamed I might someday see in person. There
was Winter’s Sorrow, a simple crystal ball full of swirling snowflakes. It might
have been a paperweight or a child’s toy. But all you had to do was break the
crystal, and it would unleash the Fimbulwinter: an endless season of cold and
ice, all across the world, forever and ever and ever. Molly reached out a hand
to touch it, saying, "Oh, cute!" And the Armourer and I both yelled at her and
dragged her away. We sent her back to stand at the entrance, and she went,
sulking. And then, finally, there was Oath Breaker.

It wasn’t much to look at. Just a long stick of ironwood deeply
carved with prehuman symbols. An ancient weapon, older than Torc Cutter, older
than family history. Older than the family, probably. We have no idea who
created it, or why. Perhaps they used it, and that’s why there’s no record of
them anywhere. The Armourer finally reached out with a steady hand, and took the
stick down. He grimaced, as though just the touch of it was disturbing to him.
He hefted it in his hand once, and then turned abruptly and gave it to me. I
accepted it gingerly. It felt…heavy, weighed down with spiritual weight rather
than physical. A burden to the body and to the soul.

Because of what it was, and what it could do.

"But…it’s just a stick," said Molly. She’d sneaked forward to
join us again. "Is that it? I mean, is that all of it? Does it change into
something else if you strike it on the ground? Or do you just plan to beat
people over the head with it?"

"This is Oath Breaker," I said. My mouth was very dry, even
while my hands were sweating. "It undoes all agreements, all bonds. Right down
to the atomic level, if necessary."

"All right," said Molly. "Now you’re scaring me."

"Good," I said. "Because it scares the crap out of me. Armourer,
give Molly Torc Cutter. Just in case."

"Go to the library," said the Armourer. "And learn what you need
to know. I’ll keep an eye on Alexandra. But don’t take too long, Eddie. Those
alarms and excursions you set off won’t fool people for long."

"I know, Uncle Jack."

"The family…isn’t what it was, Eddie. Part of me…wishes I could
go with you when you leave. But someone has to stay and fight for the soul of
the family. For the sake of the Droods, and the world."

"Uh-oh," said Molly as we reentered the labs.

I looked at her. "This isn’t going to be good news, is it?"

"The dragon charm just reappeared on my bracelet.

Which means someone in your family finally rubbed two brain
cells together, realised a dragon that big couldn’t possibly be real, and worked
a simple dispersion spell on it. My little diversion is now officially at an
end."

"They’ll all head straight back into the Hall," I said,
frowning. "To find out just what the dragon was diverting them from. So any
minute now the whole place will be swarming with really pissed-off Droods
looking for someone to take it out on…Time we were going, Molly. It was good to
see you again, Uncle Jack."

"How far is it to the library?" said Molly, practical as always.

"Too far," said the Armourer. "You’re not even in the right
wing."

"No problem," said Molly. "I’ll just call up a spatial portal,
take us right there."

"No, you won’t," the Armourer said flatly. "The Hall’s inner
defences don’t permit teleports, magical or scientific, for security reasons.
Even I couldn’t produce anything powerful enough to break through the Hall’s
defences." He broke off and scowled thoughtfully. "Not unless I can persuade the
council to fund my black hole research after all…"

"If we could please stick to the subject," I said.

"There must be some way we can get to the library without being
spotted," said Molly. "How about an illusion spell? I could whip up something
simple, make us look like someone else. Or an aversion spell: make everyone look
everywhere except at us."

"Wouldn’t work," I said, "Our torcs alerts us to that kind of
spell automatically. They’d just fire up their Sight and look right through
them."

"When in doubt, keep it simple," said the Armourer just a little
smugly. He produced two battered old lab coats from a nearby locker and thrust
them at us. "Put these on. Anyone you meet will look at the coats, not your
faces. The family’s used to my lab assistants turning up everywhere and getting
under their feet. Just keep your heads down and keep moving, and you’ll be fine.
Damn, I’m good…"

Molly and I slipped the lab coats on. They were both covered
with an assortment of quite appalling stains, not to mention rips, cuts, and, in
my case, one really serious-looking bite mark. Molly’s came right down to her
ankles, but I had enough sense not to smile.

"My coat smells funny," she said, glaring at me mutinously.

"Be grateful," I said. "Mine smells downright disgusting."

I turned to the Armourer, and we shook hands just a bit
awkwardly. It wasn’t something we did, as a rule. But we both knew we might not
get a chance to do it again.

"Good-bye, Eddie," the Armourer said, meeting my gaze squarely.
"I wish…there was more I could do for you."

"You’ve already done far more than I had any right to expect," I
said.

"Good-bye, Uncle Jack."

He smiled at Molly and shook her hand too. "I’m glad Eddie’s
taste in women finally improved. It was a pleasure to meet you, Molly. Now get
out there and give them all hell."

"Damn right," said Molly.

Molly and I left the Armoury and carefully shut the blast-proof
doors behind us. No point in advertising that the Armoury had been left open to
casual visitors. I couldn’t allow the Armourer to come to harm for helping me. I
could already hear my family coursing through the outer sections of the Hall,
searching for intruders. They were drawing steadily closer, shouting
instructions and findings and comments back and forth in loud and excited
voices. It sounded like the whole damned family had been mobilised. The
Matriarch wasn’t taking any chances. The lab coats would get us past a few
people, but not crowds like these…All it would take was a moment of recognition,
one raised voice…

Fortunately, there was another option. Just not a very nice one.

"Back when I was a kid," I said conversationally to Molly as we
hurried down an empty corridor, "I worked out various ways of getting around the
Hall without being seen. Because if you got caught in places where you weren’t
supposed to be, you got punished. Often severely punished. But luckily the Hall
is very old, and down the years certain very useful hidden doors and secret
passages became lost, forgotten, displaced. And because I did a lot of reading
in the library, especially in sections I wasn’t supposed to have access to, I
was able to turn up certain old books describing the exact locations of these
very useful shortcuts.

"There are doors that can take you from one room to another,
from one wing to another, without having to cross the intervening space. There
are narrow passages within thick, hollow walls that used to be part of the old
central heating and ventilation processes. There’s a trapdoor in the basement
that opens out into the attic and some rooms that are only there on certain
dates. I must have used them all, at one time or another, in my never-ending
quest to discover things I wasn’t supposed to know about."