The Matriarch stirred uncomfortably, at something she heard in my voice. She chose her words carefully.
“We do have a case pending that the family needs to deal with but that we would prefer to keep at arm’s length. Essentially straight forward, but ripe with pitfalls for the unwary. A case that could quite definitely benefit from your . . . special touch.”
“Hold it,” said Molly. “I’ve just remembered something I wanted to ask! Do you know what’s happening with the Department of Uncanny? Have you heard who’s going to be put in charge?”
The Matriarch looked at her. She would have liked to be impatient, but everyone knew there was no point in trying to push past Molly when she had something on her mind. She had a tendency to throw things. Often large jaggedy pointy things. The Matriarch did allow herself a loud sigh, just on general principles.
“As far as I know,” she said, “the Government hasn’t decided whether they’re going to keep Uncanny going, as a separate Department. It was almost completely destroyed, and most of its people killed. The Government might just fold what’s left into MI 13, or replace it with something new. I understand Black Heir is very keen to take on Uncanny’s responsibilities, and expand their area of influence in the hidden world.”
Molly snorted loudly. “Black Heir? That bunch of vultures? Picking over the technological trash aliens leave behind when they have to get the hell out of Dodge in a hurry. They’re just looking to increase their power base.”
“Well, yes,” said the Matriarch. “That’s what Government Departments do. I understand there’s a lot of interdepartmental jousting going on right now, as everyone fights it out for promotion. There are careers waiting to be made out of situations like this.” She looked at me steadily. “Do you still consider yourself part of Uncanny, Eddie?”
“No,” I said. “I only went along to be close to my grandfather. Now the Regent of Shadows is gone . . .”
“So who are you with now?” said the Matriarch.
“Remains to be seen,” I said, not giving an inch. “Doesn’t it?”
“You’re family, Eddie,” said the Matriarch. “You can always come home.” She paused to glare coldly at Molly. “Even if you do bring some baggage with you.”
Molly’s head came up immediately. “Eddie! Tell me she did not just call me a baggage!”
“She did not just call you a baggage,” I said.
“Yes, she did! I heard her!”
“Then why did you ask me?” I said.
“To give you a chance to say the right thing!”
“Now, you know very well I’m never any good at that,” I said. “Can’t we all just agree that everyone must have misheard and move on?”
Molly was still pouting dangerously, so it was probably just as well that the Sanctity doors burst open and the Serjeant-at-Arms launched himself into the Sanctity, armoured up and guns in hand, ready for action. And then he stopped, and looked around, as he realised there was no obvious trouble going on. He saw I wasn’t wearing my armour any more, and immediately armoured down himself, rather than be outdone by me in the calm-and-controlled stakes. The guns in his hands remained pointed at me and Molly. We both made a point of appearing conspicuously unimpressed, while being careful to make no sudden moves. They were very big and very impressive guns.
“Stand down, Serjeant!” the Matriarch said loudly. “I am perfectly safe, and completely in control of the situation!”
The Serjeant didn’t look like he believed a word of that, but he nodded reluctantly, and the guns disappeared from his hands. He drew himself up to his full height, looking more than ever like the world’s most dangerous butler, and glowered coldly at me and Molly. We glared right back at him. Never show a moment of weakness to anyone in my family. They’ll only take advantage.
“If it was up to me, I’d have you shot on sight,” the Serjeant said flatly. “Every time you come home, Eddie, you bring trouble with you. When you aren’t starting it yourself. I demand to know what has happened to the black box the previous Matriarch left you in her will! The contents of which could supposedly put you in complete control of this family, against all opposition!”
“Oh, that box,” I said. “It’s around somewhere. I’m sure I could put my hand on it if I felt I needed to.”
“It belongs with the family!” said the Serjeant-at-Arms.