From a Drood to a Kill - Simon R. Green Page 0,160

smaller, less impressive—and strangely peaceful now he wasn’t having to pretend all the time. I stood over him and armoured down. Molly hurried up the steps to join me.

“I suppose you won’t let me kill him either?”

“No,” I said. “Does this mean we’ve won the Game? I mean, we’ve run out of competitors.”

“No,” said Molly. “It’s not over yet.”

* * *

The world snapped off, and for a long moment there was nothing but an impenetrable darkness. I reached out blindly for Molly, and her hand found mine. We held on to each other tightly, until light flared up again, dazzlingly bright. When I could see clearly again, we were standing in the main entrance hall of Drood Hall. I think it’s fair to say, it was the very last place I was expecting to see. Molly gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, let go, and looked quickly about her.

“We’re back in Drood Hall? Does that mean we’re out of the Game? Out of the Shifting Lands, at last? Eddie! Have your family intervened and brought us home?”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” I said. I stood very still, carefully studying my new surroundings. “I’m not in contact with my current handler, so there’s no way anyone in my family could know where I am. The whole point of the Shifting Lands is that they’re out of the Droods’ reach, remember? And anyway, even if my family had somehow tracked me down . . . they wouldn’t override a field agent in the middle of a mission and just yank him out of trouble. It’s not the way we do things. No, Molly, this isn’t real. It’s a fake Hall, like the fake grounds I originally appeared in. I think the main clue is it’s far too quiet. Listen . . . there’s not a sound anywhere. The Hall is many things, but it’s never quiet. There’s always people around, hurrying back and forth on family business. And by now the Serjeant-at-Arms would have burst out of his private office, demanding to know how we got in here without setting off all the security alarms. And probably challenging my very right to be here, because that’s what he does.”

I walked over to a nearby table, picked up a heavy silver platter, and slammed it down hard on the tabletop. It made a hell of a racket. The sound carried loudly in the quiet, echoing on and on. But there was no response anywhere. I waited till the last echoes had died away, and then turned to Molly.

“Told you. Nobody home.”

I glanced at the silver platter, prior to replacing it on the table, and then I stopped and looked at it more closely.

“What’s wrong?” said Molly.

“It’s just an ordinary platter,” I said slowly, turning it back and forth. “No engravings, no decoration, nothing to suggest a significant history . . . It’s just . . . ordinary. And Droods don’t bother with ordinary things. This is blank, unfinished. As though the details haven’t been filled in. Like a stage prop.”

“Another clue?” said Molly.

“Right . . .”

I put the platter down on the table. Molly looked it over.

“It’s still silver,” she said brightly. “If I had a big enough pocket, I’d take it with me.”

I had to smile. “You must be feeling better.”

Molly shrugged, and looked quickly about her. “It all seems real enough. Familiar, in all the right ways. But then I suppose it would, if it’s come from your memories.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I was responsible for this setting. I hadn’t called for it. But I supposed it could have come in answer to some subconscious need to replace the dark void left by the removal of Chandarru’s world.

“Maybe we’re here because you felt the need to be somewhere safe,” said Molly.

“Safe? Here? In Drood Hall?” I said. “You must be joking. You should know better than that, Molly.”

“Well, this isn’t going to be coming from my mind, is it?” Molly said sharply. “You know I can’t stand this place! So what do we do now? If you don’t like it here, I suppose we could take a look outside.”

“No,” I said. “I’ve already seen the fake grounds, and they aren’t up to much. I think we were brought here by someone else. For a reason. And almost certainly one we’re not going to like. There must be something here that matters, something significant to the Game.”

“All right,” Molly said resignedly. “Let’s take a look around, see what there is to