I said. “What if they really could put you in charge, despite what anyone could do to stop you?”
“I would destroy whatever was inside that box,” he said flatly. “Whatever it turned out to be. Because no individual should possess that kind of power. The Matriarch only runs this family because we allow her to. She can set all the policy she likes; we’re the ones who decide how it’s carried out. Checks and balances . . . keep the ship of family on an even keel. I really don’t care whether you approve of me or not, Eddie. I only ever do what is necessary to hold the family together.” He met my gaze steadily. “You only have to look at what certain members of this family have become once they got the scent of power in their nostrils. Or see what others get up to, out in the field, away from a healthy sense of discipline, to be aware of what Droods might become without family concerns to rein them in.”
“It’s time I was going,” I said. “When I find myself starting to agree with you, I know I’ve been here too long.”
“Take good care of that car,” said the Serjeant. “The Bentley is irreplaceable; unlike you. In her time, she’s given far more good service to this family than you ever have.”
“I’ll bring her home safely,” I said. I couldn’t help but smile. “Who would have thought it? After all this time, it turns out we do have something in common after all.”
“We’re Droods,” he said. “We are always going to have more in common with each other than with anyone outside the family.”
“See?” I said. “You had to go and spoil the moment.”
“It’s what I do,” said the Serjeant-at-Arms.
I strode over to the Bentley, and the bright green driver’s door sprang open before me. I sat down behind the big, broad steering wheel, and the door quietly closed itself again. Proof, if proof were needed, that the Armourer meant for me to have the car. She wouldn’t have done that for anyone else. Seat belts snapped into place around me, across the waist and the chest, strapping me firmly into my seat. Because when this car starts moving at speed, you can’t afford to be caught unawares. The Armourer installed the seat belts; 1930s Bentleys didn’t have them. It was a simpler, more reckless age then. I hit the press-button ignition, and a whole bunch of glowing dials and instruments lit up, the whole length of the polished beech-wood dashboard. It was like looking at the bridge of the starship Enterprise. I hadn’t a clue what most of them meant; it had been a long time since I’d paged through the operating manual. The massive engine purred like a great jungle cat under the long green bonnet, and then roared happily as I slipped the car into gear and stamped hard on the pedal. The Bentley surged forward, harsh acceleration pressing me back in my seat as we sped down the gravel drive, leaving the Hall behind. In the rearview mirror I could just make out the Serjeant-at-Arms staring wistfully after us before he turned away and went back inside the Hall. Back to his duty.
* * *
I slammed the Bentley through the Drood Hall grounds, and all heads turned to watch us pass. The gardeners and the security staff, the boys playing football and the girls riding winged unicorns, even the peacocks and gryphons. Some of the younger Droods waved, and a few even saluted. Though I knew better than to think any of those salutes were for me. The Bentley was just that kind of car. Family history, in motion.
I poured on even more speed as I reached the end of the long gravel drive and the massive iron-barred gates loomed up before me. I didn’t slow down—and they didn’t open. Because they weren’t really there. The gates were just an illusion, as long as you’re a Drood. Seen from the other side, they’re an unbroken stretch of high stone wall covered in ivy. A Drood can pass right through, as though it is all just so much mist and shadow; anyone else will have a really nasty collision. We’re not keen on visitors. They rarely mean anything good.
The Bentley glided through the closed iron gates like so much fog, and out into the narrow country lane that leads away from Drood Hall. And the moment I was out, and free from the constraints