From a Drood to a Kill - Simon R. Green Page 0,64

blooms. A large eye composed of almost unbearably colourful flowers winked slowly at me as I passed. Most of the family were gone now, and even the gryphons and peacocks had returned to their usual stomping grounds. Raucous noises floated on the still air as they made their presence known. I walked on, taking my time, not heading anywhere in particular. I was thinking about my uncle Jack. I wished we’d talked more. I wished I’d listened more. So many things I meant to ask him, or tell him, but I never did, because I always thought there’d be another time. Until suddenly there wasn’t.

I passed a small copse of quite unremarkable trees, not far from the lake, and there in the quiet patch of shade Maxwell and Victoria were taking it in turns to scatter Jack’s ashes from the small golden urn. They were being very solemn, and very efficient about it. Scraps.2 watched them work, lying on his back with all four metal legs in the air, for all the world like a real dog. I left them to it.

I wandered here and there, thinking about this and that, and couldn’t seem to make up my mind about anything. It was all too sudden, too raw . . . like a wound that needed time to heal. An important part of my life had been torn away, and that would take some getting used to.

I finally wound up standing before the great burial mound at the rear of the grounds, under which lay the dragon’s head I had brought back from Castle Frankenstein. I think he knew I was coming to see him before I did. He addressed me from inside his mound, the warm, friendly voice booming inside my head, expressing his regrets over Jack’s passing. Of course he knew the Armourer was dead. He was a dragon.

“Your human lives go by so quickly,” he said. “Mayfly moments, flickering through history . . . It amazes me you ever get anything done in such a short time. I shall miss Jack Drood. He did a lot for me. And he often came out here to talk to me. We learned so much from each other.”

“What did you talk about?” I said.

“We had a lot in common,” said the dragon. “We’d both seen the world change in so many ways since we were young. And we both understood that it’s never too late to make your mark.”

I thought about that, all the way back to the Hall.

* * *

Finally, because I’d run out of reasons not to, I went back into the Hall. I didn’t want to talk to my family, or share my private memories of the Armourer with them, but I knew it was required of me. Not by my family—I didn’t give a damn what they wanted—but because my uncle Jack would have expected it of me. He was always very firm on duty and responsibilities and family obligations. The upholding of family traditions. Except for when they got in the way of what he believed needed doing.

I found William the Librarian waiting for me just inside the entrance hall. He stood alone, still in his good suit, looking uncomfortable but determined. I looked around, but there was no sign anywhere of his assistant and part-time keeper, Yorith.

“I sent him away,” said William, without having to be asked. “You and I have private business, Eddie.”

“We do?” I said politely.

“Oh yes! Very definitely yes. Do we? Yes.”

He looked firm and focused enough, but there was still a certain vagueness in his eyes. I nodded slowly.

“Shouldn’t we be attending some terrible prepared buffet, with cold finger food and people making forced small talk?” I said. “That is what usually happens after a funeral, isn’t it?”

“Knowing this family, by now they’ll have descended on the free food like a swarm of locusts,” said the Librarian. “Let them. You and I have something far more important to do.”

“Oh yes?” I said, still being as polite as I could. “Like what, exactly? What could be so important now?”

“We have to clear out Jack’s room,” William said firmly. “Sort through his belongings and possessions, decide what to keep and what to throw away. Because Maxwell and Victoria are waiting to move in.”

Of course. I understood. It’s family tradition that when someone high up dies, their replacement takes over straightaway. In all private, as well as public, matters. It’s the only way some of us ever get a better room. There would

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024