From a Drood to a Kill - Simon R. Green Page 0,63

the hidden world. To be the new Department of Uncanny. Forewarned is forearmed.”

“Would that necessarily be such a bad thing?” said the Matriarch. “Somebody has to take over. Work isn’t being done that needs to be done, and someone has to take up the slack. At least Black Heir is a known organisation. They’re ambitious, but we can live with that.”

“What matters is they didn’t tell us about the device, and what it can do,” I said. “And they should have.”

“Good point,” said the Matriarch. “I can see I’m going to have to make another phone call, and make someone else cry hot tears of bitter shame before I’m through.”

We all walked back to the Hall. Along the way, we met up with the Serjeant-at-Arms. He presented the Matriarch with a thick sheaf of papers, and she leafed quickly through them as we walked.

“A lot of people have sent their regards . . . ,” she said. “Friends, and colleagues, and even a few enemies, from all over the world. And from a few places not anywhere in the world. The Armourer did get around . . . Word has got out very quickly, to the supernatural and the super-science communities. Jack knew a great many people outside the Hall, even though strictly speaking he wasn’t supposed to. And yes, Eddie, I do know all about his clandestine visits to the Nightside, and the London Knights, and a whole bunch of other places very much off-limits to members of this family. The previous Matriarch knew too. It never seemed worth making a fuss over. As long as he was . . . discreet, we thought it better to just let him go, rather than have a confrontation. Which might have led to us having to lay down the law and him defying us.”

I thought about that. “Do other people in the family . . . ?”

“Of course,” said the Serjeant-at-Arms. “Don’t ask, don’t tell. And above all, don’t get caught.”

“The Armourer touched the lives of a great many people,” said the Matriarch, still working her way through the thick sheaf of papers. “One way, or another . . . He was the last of the Old School Droods. Blunt instruments of Drood policy. A lot of people are going to miss him. A pity we couldn’t allow some of them to attend the ceremony . . . but it just wasn’t practical. We can’t have outsiders at a Drood ceremony, in Drood grounds.”

“I’m here!” Molly said immediately.

“Believe me,” said the Serjeant, “we noticed.”

“We made an exception for you,” said the Matriarch. “Because we have to.”

“Damn right,” said Molly.

“There’ll be a wake, in a few hours, for friends and colleagues and . . . others,” said the Serjeant. “At the Wulfshead Club. We’ve hired the place exclusively for the evening. Should be quite a do.”

“We’ll head over there later,” I said to Molly.

“Of course,” she said. “And then we’ll see the old man off properly.”

I stopped, and everyone else stumbled to a halt. They looked at me, as I looked out over the wide, sweeping grounds.

“You go on,” I said. “I’m not going back to the Hall, just yet. I think . . . I need to be by myself for a while. Take a little stroll around the grounds. Do some thinking.”

“Of course,” said the Matriarch. “We’ll talk more later, Eddie.”

“Looking forward to it,” I lied.

She moved on, with the Serjeant-at-Arms. Already forgetting me as they discussed existing business, and what the change in Armourer might mean to the family, and how it would affect ongoing operations. I found I felt a bit annoyed about that. It seemed disrespectful, with Jack only just dead. But the family goes on. Molly leaned in close and kissed me on the cheek.

“Go for your walk, Eddie. Take your time, say your good-byes. I’ll head on over to the Wulfshead, make sure they’re arranging things properly.”

She stepped back and disappeared. Gone in a moment. The air crashed in to fill the empty space where she’d been standing. I looked at where she’d been thoughtfully. It wasn’t supposed to be possible for an outsider to just teleport out of Drood grounds without permission. The standing defences and protections should have prevented it. But then, that was Molly for you. Always ready to do the impossible and make it look easy.

* * *

I wandered off into the grounds, across the great grassy lawns, past the huge flower beds with their intricate patterns of unusual and unnatural

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