Book 2 - Daemons Are Forever (28 page)

“You’ve got it,” I said. “You can leave right now.”

“And the extent of the bounty?”

“Depends on who you can deliver,” I said. “You can find your own way out, can’t you?”

“I always do, honey,” said Freddie.

He sauntered off down the long gravel pathway, swaying his hips just that little bit more because he knew we were watching. Somehow I just knew Freddie was always happiest in front of an audience.

“Your family never ceases to amaze me,” said Molly.

“They can surprise me too, sometimes,” I said. “My own Inner Circle has turned against me, because you weren’t there to back me up.”

“Eddie, that’s not fair,” said Molly. “If you can’t control them, you certainly can’t expect me to.”

“I don’t want to control them,” I said. “Not as such. I just want the stupid bastards to understand that I’m right. I need them to believe that my way is the right way. Or everything I’ve done, to save the family’s soul, could be undone.”

“You don’t need me for that,” said Molly.

“Yes I do! I do need you, Molly. I’m…stronger, more confident, when you’re with me.”

Molly smiled and moved in close, putting her hands on my chest. “That’s very sweet, Eddie. But I can’t always be with you. I just can’t. Not here. Not in this place. I told you; I’m never going to fit in here. I belong in the wild. I’m beginning to think I made a mistake in coming here with you. I love you, Eddie, you know I do. You matter to me in a way no one else ever has. I want you, Eddie, but I don’t want all this.”

She looked at me for a long moment, her dark eyes deep and unfathomable. “You’re starting a war, Eddie. A war I’m not sure you can win. The Loathly Ones were bad enough, but that thing they were summoning? Major-league bad. I signed on to fight demons, not gods. You need to start with something smaller, more manageable. Like Manifest Destiny. Truman’s still out there, putting his nasty little organisation back together again. And this time he won’t have the Zero Tolerance people holding his reins and pulling him back. Start with him, Eddie. With a fight you can win.”

“I’ll consider it,” I said. “Now, please, come back inside. Be with me, if only for a while. I’m tired. I need to crash. Get some sleep, forget the world and its problems for a while. It’s going to be a hard day tomorrow.”

“Of course, sweetie. Come and lie down with me, and I’ll take all your cares away. And you can help me forget mine. But what’s so special about tomorrow? What’s happening then?”

“The funerals,” I said.

Next morning came round all too quickly, and the insistent clamour of a bullying alarm clock made sure Molly and I were up bright and early to greet the coining day. And all the pressures and problems it promised. Molly and I went down to breakfast in one of the big dining rooms. Rows and rows of tables covered with bright white cloths, a long sideboard with every kind of breakfast you could imagine, and huge windows looking out over the lawns. There were braised kidneys, and kedgeree, and even porridge, though you couldn’t get me to eat that stuff no matter how much salt you put on it.

I’m not really a morning person, never have been, and I’m not all that keen on breakfast, but this day of all days I needed to be seen, so that no one could accuse me of avoiding the funerals. My absence would have been interpreted as an admission of guilt.

So I nursed a cup of strong black coffee while Molly tucked into a full fry up, complete with liver and mushrooms and more scrambled eggs than was good for her arteries. I’d never realised what a noisy eater she was, unless it was the terribly early hour. Everything sounds louder and more oppressive, first thing in the morning. There were a lot of other people around us, breakfasting and talking animatedly. None of them had anything to say to me, or Molly.

“Why are we up this early?” said Molly, attacking her mound of steaming scrambled eggs with quite appalling vigour.

“Funerals here are always held early in the morning,” I said. “It’s tradition. Probably for the best, this time; we’ve got a lot to get through. All the people I lost…”

“Don’t start,” Molly said sternly, threatening me with her fork. “None of what happened was your fault. If it was, I’d tell you. Loudly and violently and where everyone could hear me.”

I considered that. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“So, why are we holding the funerals so quickly? It’s not like they’re going to go off.”

“We don’t hang around, where funerals are concerned,” I said. “The family has too many enemies who might try to use our own dead against us.”

Molly chewed on a crispy bit of bacon, thoughtfully and thoroughly. “What kind of funeral does your family put on?”

“Oh, it’ll be a big ceremony,” I said. “My family has a ceremony established for practically everything. We’re very big on tradition. Helps discourage the rank and file from thinking for themselves. And I’ll have to make a speech, at the end. It’s expected of me.”

“What are you going to say?” said Molly.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose I could throw myself on the family’s mercy…”

Molly shook her head. “I wouldn’t.”

After breakfast, I led Molly to the back of the main house and out through the huge French windows onto the long sloping lawns where the funeral was to be held. The coffins gleamed brightly in the early morning sun, rows and rows of them stretching away before us. All closed, of course, to hide the fact that most contained only parts of bodies, and some contained nothing at all. Two hundred and forty wooden boxes. I didn’t know we kept that many in stock. Or perhaps someone just used a duplication spell. Two hundred and forty fewer Droods, to stand between the world and all the evils in it.

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.

P
enny 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 missing. 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?”