Book 2 - Daemons Are Forever (48 page)

One of us. Yes. I wanted it to be one of us, bad as that was. Because it could have been Molly. I didn’t want to think that, but I couldn’t stop myself. Molly could have got to Sebastian, using her magics. She wanted him dead, because of what he did to her. Or … could the thing inside her have influenced her thoughts, and had her kill him for the Loathly Ones’ own purposes?

“Strange,” I said. “Where’s Molly, right now?”

“I’m afraid I’ve no idea, Eddie,” said Strange after a pause. “I don’t seem able to locate her anywhere. Which is odd…”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s not important. I’ll talk to her later.”

The meeting finally got under way, as the various necessary people arrived. Giles Deathstalker was first, of course, with a soldier’s sense of punctuality. He looked calm and relaxed and incredibly dangerous, as always. He bowed to me and to the Matriarch, and it would have been hard to say which was the more respectful nod. I was beginning to think that maybe I should have duelled with him after all. Soldiers only respect strength. But if I’d lost…I’d seen Giles fight, and he really was very good indeed.

Next to arrive were Harry and Roger, both smiling easily and innocently, as though they hadn’t just been trying to persuade my Molly to betray me. The Matriarch glared daggers at them both, but restricted her acid tongue for the good of the family. I could think of lots of things I wanted to say, but I restricted myself to a polite nod. I needed Harry and Roger. The family needed them.

Mr. Stab strolled in, accompanied by the Sarjeant-at-Arms, and it felt like the temperature in the Sanctity dropped several degrees. We all looked at him, but none of us had anything to say. Mr. Stab smiled coolly back at us, as though he was used to awkward situations like this. He had volunteered for the mission I was putting together as soon as I explained it to him, and I was glad to have him on board. As long as the Sarjeant-at-Arms was there to keep an eye on him.

The next to arrive was another volunteer, the Blue Fairy. Who might have agreed in order to make up for his plan to steal a torc, but still didn’t have the grace to look in any way guilty. He was dressed in his best, all flashing colours and elaborate cuts, and he had a smile for everyone. It was hard to dislike the man, but worth the effort.

The Armourer wandered in and stood off to one side, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his charred and stained lab coat, fidgeting and avoiding eye contact with anyone. He knew the mission I planned was dependant on the new weapon he’d devised, and clearly resented spending time here explaining it to the meeting when he could have been working to perfect it. Ever since he retired from field work, Uncle Jack had not so much lost his people skills as thrown them away.

And the last to arrive, as always, was Callan Drood. For him, showing up on time was something other people did. He wore a long leather duster and a floppy wide-brimmed hat, and looked like he’d come straight from a cattle roundup. Callan always liked to give the impression that you’d just dragged him away from something far more important, that he couldn’t wait to get back to.

“Right,” I said loudly, once they were all assembled. “This is it. The big attack, the big push, to stop the Loathly Ones in their tracks and prevent them from bringing the Invaders through into our reality. Intelligence has finally pinpointed the location of every nest throughout the world, with Molly’s help. We have to hit them all, and destroy them and their towers. And we have to get this right first time, people, because the odds are we won’t get a second chance. You will be leading carefully selected strike forces of our best fighters against the biggest and most important ghoulvilles; those whose towers intelligence believes are closest to completion. Once they’re wiped out, we will proceed from ghoulville to ghoulville, nest to nest, wiping them out in order of importance. Until they’re all gone. Not one nest, not one tower, not one drone can be allowed to survive. And we have to do this fast, people. Once we begin, the news will flash from nest to nest, transmitted through the Loathly Ones’ massmind, and after that they’ll be expecting us. Uncle Jack, tell the nice people about the nasty new thing you’ve developed for them to play with.”

The Armourer stepped forward, scowling. He’d done everything he could to try to persuade me to let him lead one of the strike forces, but for all his field agent experience he was just too valuable now to put at risk. He didn’t take at all kindly to me pointing this out, and had used language quite unbefitting a man of his age and position.

“I have developed a new kind of bomb,” he said flatly. “A whole new kind, that basically turns a tower’s other-dimensional energies against itself. The result is a massive explosion that destroys the tower completely, and every living thing within a hundred-mile radius. So make damn sure you’re all outside the ghoulville before it detonates. All you have to do is set the bomb at the base of the tower, set the timer, and run like hell. Be sure to guard every way in and out of the ghoulville; we can’t let any drones escape. I’m sorry, Eddie. I know you were still hoping I could come up with some way of curing the infected, but there’s nothing I can do. Nothing anyone could do. Once someone is infected, they’re lost to us. To humanity. We all know the drones are the innocent victims in all of this, but we have to concentrate our efforts on saving those we can; the rest of the world.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to believe what he was saying. Didn’t want to believe my Molly was hopelessly lost. But for now I just nodded and went along. What else could I do?

“Your job is to cut a path through the drones to the tower, and activate the bomb,” I said to the others. “Don’t get distracted. Don’t waste time killing drones when you should be getting to the tower. This is about destroying whole nests, not individual drones.”

“No need to rub it in,” said Harry. “We’re not stupid. I notice you aren’t down to lead one of these strike forces, Eddie. Why is that?”

“Because he’s needed here,” the Matriarch said flatly. “As am I. Someone has to take the overview. Something, I am told, you were always remarkably bad at.”

“Of course,” murmured Harry. “I knew it would be something like that.”

And then we all looked round sharply as Subway Sue burst into the Sanctity. It had been so long since I’d last seen her I’d actually forgotten about her. She looked even more of a mess than usual, which took some doing. Her long flappy coat was torn and tattered and covered with assorted filth, and her long hair was a mess of greasy strings. But her mouth was firm and her eyes burned fiercely. She marched right up to me and planted herself in front of me.

“I’ve been searching for something useful to contribute,” she said in her rough, scratchy voice. “Something to justify Molly’s faith in me, and my presence here. And I think I’ve found it. I know more about hidden ways than anyone else. All the secret paths, dimensional shortcuts, and forbidden doors. In my various lives as luck vampire, subterranean, and down and out, I’ve had occasion to use most of them more than once. But I’ve found you something new, or at least, something so old and disused it’s new again.

“It’s taken me some time, travelling through the darker regions, talking with old friends and enemies and allies, but I’ve found a whole new secret way for you to use. An approach your enemy will never suspect, because no one’s used it in ages. Mostly because it’s too dangerous. But you’re Droods; you laugh at danger, right? You can use this way to get anywhere in the world, from anywhere in the world, arriving entirely undetected. It’s the underside of the Rainbow Run; the Damnation Way.”

She finally stopped for breath and looked at me expectantly.

“The name doesn’t exactly fill me full of confidence,” I said carefully. “Might there be a reason why no one’s used it for so long? Something… specific, that makes it so very dangerous?”

“No one knows for sure,” said Subway Sue, doing her best not to sound defensive. “People just stopped coming out the other end when they used it. The best bet seems to be that something lives there now, and eats travellers. Something… really bad.”

“Who’s that trot-trotting across my bridge, said the troll,” murmured Harry.

Sue glared at him. “I will slap you in a minute, and it will hurt.”

“Well, thank you for all your time and efforts on our behalf, Sue,” I said. “But we already have our own instantaneous, undetectable means of transporting ourselves into the ghoulvilles. But should any problems arise, I’m sure we’ll all feel better knowing we have your Damnation Way to fall back on.”

I was being kind, and everyone there knew it. Including Subway Sue. She just nodded stiffly, turned her back on us, and stalked out of the Sanctity. I looked at the others.

“End of briefing. You all know everything you need to know. Stop off at the Armoury and pick up your bombs, and then get to know the people in your various strike forces, before reporting to the War Room for the off.”

“I have a few questions,” said Harry.

“Yes,” I said. “I thought you might have. What is it, Harry?”

“Well, to start with, where is the infamous Molly Metcalf? Shouldn’t a witch of her undoubted talents be one of the lucky people leading a strike force?”

“Oh, she’s around,” I said. “Making herself useful.”

Molly had wanted to go into the nests and work her infamous mayhem, but I had to say no. I couldn’t risk her infected nature suddenly surfacing, so close to a tower. She said she understood. I hadn’t seen her since.

“And this…remarkable new means of transport,” said Harry. “Have you some new miracle device, hidden in your pocket?”

I had to grin. “Funny you should say that, Harry…” Molly was waiting for us in the great stone cavern of the War Room when the Matriarch and I finally arrived, some time later. She smiled at us, but not with all her attention, as though she was thinking of something else. I deliberately looked away. The War Room was pretty much deserted, by normal standards. I hardly recognised the place. Most of the workstations and display screens had been shut down so the War Room could operate on a skeleton crew. It was strange to see all the world maps without their usual glowing coloured lights, but we no longer cared about what was going on in the rest of the world.

The Matriarch went straight to her operations table, and was immediately surrounded by a dozen runners bearing the latest reports and intelligence updates. I wandered round the room, checking out the remaining communications staff. We were down to the very basics there, too. Most of the War Room staff had joined the thousands of armoured figures waiting more or less patiently in the corridors outside, preparing themselves for the battles to come. Normally every agent operating out in the field could count on having hundreds of people at the Hall to back them up, ready to provide information, advice, or support; but we couldn’t afford that now. Everyone had to fight. This was to be slash and burn, cold killing, butcher’s work.

I circled the War Room and ended up back beside Molly. She looked…taut, under strain, like a piece of wire stretched so thin it might break at any moment. I wanted to put my arm around her, but I knew she wouldn’t want that. Molly always had to appear hard and confident, in public. She would have hated even the thought that anyone might see her as weak. So I just stood as close to her as I could, and kept my voice calm and easy, as though we did this whole
battle for the fate of all humanity
bit every day.

“So,” I said. “Looks like it’s all kicking off, at last. Marching into Hell for a Heavenly cause, and all that. Where have you been?”

“Out in the grounds,” she said. “It’s very peaceful out there.”

She didn’t say anything about Harry and Roger, and I didn’t feel like pressing her. But it did make me wonder if she might be keeping other secrets from me too. She could have killed Sebastian, for all kinds of reasons. How could I protect her if I didn’t know what to protect her from?

“Listen,” she said abruptly, still not actually looking at me. “Don’t get yourself killed, all right?”

“I’m not going out with the strike forces,” I said. “I’ll be running things from here. Safe and sound, far from any harm.”

“I know you, Eddie. The first time anything goes wrong, you’ll be off and running to play the hero one more time. You can’t help yourself. It’s who you are. So… watch yourself out there. Watch your back. There are traitors everywhere, these days. And… I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t have you anymore.”

“It’s all going to be all right,” I said. It didn’t sound convincing even as I said it, but I didn’t know what else to say. I couldn’t hold her in public, so I just took her hand in mine and squeezed it. She squeezed back, still not looking at me.

We stood together, watching the main display screens as they showed constantly shifting views of the golden army continuing to assemble in the corridors outside, standing in their ranks for as far as the eye could see. There was surprisingly little chatter; everyone seemed taken up with their own thoughts. The old and the young stood watching in the background, no doubt silently wondering if they’d ever see their loved ones again. I never got to see my parents off, on their last, fatal mission. Teacher wouldn’t let me out of class. By the time I managed to sneak off, it was too late; they’d already gone. I never saw them again.

It’s mattered to me more and more of late, that I never got to say good-bye.

Anything, for the family. Damn the family. And damn the world that makes us necessary.

The various strike force leaders turned up, having checked their people, the stress and the strain making them act like exaggerated cartoons of themselves. Giles Deathstalker strode in like the soldier he was, and crashed to attention before the Matriarch’s desk. She acknowledged him with a flick of an eyebrow, and went back to work. Harry and Roger sauntered in, ostentatiously hand in hand. The Matriarch wouldn’t even look in their direction. I don’t know quite when Mr. Stab arrived. I just looked up and there he was, a Victorian anachronism amidst so much twenty-first-century technology. The Sarjeant-at-Arms came rushing in a few moments later, clearly annoyed at Mr. Stab having slipped his leash. He glared hard at his elusive responsibility and moved forward to stand right beside him. Mr. Stab just nodded politely.