The Man With The Golden Torc Part 12

"Easy," I said. "I cheated. Let's change the subject. Given that I've been such a good soldier for so long, will any of the other rogues agree to talk to me?"

"They'll talk to me," said Molly. "I've had dealings with some of them, in my time. Don't look so shocked, Eddie. You're out in the real world now, and we do things differently here. Alliances come and go, and we all deal with whomever we have to, to get things done. I don't have a family to back me up, so I made my own, out of the few people I really trust. I know people everywhere. Also, I know people who know people. In fact, I know of three Drood rogues living in and around London. If I vouch for you, they'll agree to a meeting. Probably."

"I don't care about just surviving," I said. "I won't hide in a hole and pull it in after me, like the other rogues. I need to bring my family down, all the way down, for what they've done. For not being what they said they were. But...there has to be someone around strong enough to stop Manifest Destiny. Bad as my family are, those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are worse. And you can bet all the damage we did to them today won't even slow them down. They're big and they're organised and they're rotten to the core. If I do break the Droods' hold on the world...who would be left strong enough to stop Truman from doing all the awful things he plans to do to everyone who's not Manifest Destiny?"

"There is one obvious answer," Molly said. "Set them both at each other's throats."

"No," I said immediately. "I won't be responsible for starting a war. Too many innocents would die, caught in the cross fire. And not everyone in my family is dirty. Some of them are good people, fighting the good fight not out of family duty but just because they believe it's the right thing to do."

"If you say so," said Molly.

It was my turn to consider her thoughtfully. "I couldn't help noticing, Molly, that you've been very...reticent today. Holding back, as it were. None of your usual wild magics in any of our battles. In fact, you've let me do most of the hard work."

She grinned. "I was wondering when you'd notice. I've been watching you in action, Eddie. Seeing what you can do. Trying to get a handle on who you really are. I've hated and fought the Droods most of my life, and with good reason. They killed my parents when I was just a child."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know."

"I never found out why. Droods aren't big on explaining their actions. That's how Truman was able to snare me so easily...But you were always different, Eddie. I've fought a dozen different Drood agents in my time, but you...you were the only one who ever fought clean. You've always...intrigued me, Eddie."

"I love it when a woman talks dirty," I said.

We were leaning towards each other when the barge's proximity alarm went off, a silent crimson light that filled the cabin. I gestured urgently for Molly to be quiet and rose quickly to turn off the CD player. Outside, the wind was howling with a voice not all its own. I turned off the crimson warning light with a sharp gesture and dropped down beside Molly again. I put my mouth right next to her ear.

"Don't move, don't speak, don't do anything. Something's out there. And my security alarms wouldn't flare up like that unless there was something really nasty in the vicinity."

"Looking for us?" said Molly, barely breathing the words.

"Seems likely. But it's not my family. That would set off an entirely different alarm."

"You got any weapons on this boat?"

"No. And no defences either. That's the point of this place; nothing to attract any attention. It's supposed to be right off the map. Nothing for any enemy to detect."

We listened to the wind raging. The cabin was rising and falling jerkily now, as the waters were disturbed. The temperature dropped sharply. My breath steamed on the air, mixing with Molly's.

"What do you think it is?" Molly whispered.

"Could be any number of really bad things. I've made some serious enemies in my time. Probably think I'm vulnerable, now my family's disowned me."

"But you've got your armour, and I've got my spells..."

"No. If we give away our position we'll have to go on the run again. And I'm running out of safe places to hide. Keep your head down and stay close to me. Just being this close to my torc should hide you too."

We sat silently together as the barge shook and shuddered and the wind howled like a living thing. One by one the storm lamps guttered and went out so that a darkening gloom filled the cabin, as though there was something close that could not abide light and warmth. I could feel the presence of something horribly other drawing inexorably closer, something fierce and foul, like a thorn in my soul. I was s.h.i.+vering now, and so was Molly, and not just from the bitter cold that penetrated the cabin. Something was looking for us, something dangerous to our bodies and our souls, and it was perilously close. I took Molly in my arms, and she held me tightly. Whether I held her to bring her closer to the torc, or just out of a desperate need for human contact, I couldn't say.

I could have armoured up. I was pretty sure my armour would protect me from whatever was outside. But using such a strong magic would have given away my position immediately. And Molly would have been left unprotected.

The presence outside finally moved on, and the night went back to normal. The wind fell away to murmurs, and the barge stopped rocking as the waters stilled. The storm lamps popped back on, one by one, and light and warmth slowly filled the cabin again. Molly started to pull away from me, and I immediately let go of her. She shook her head slowly, and then stretched theatrically.

"G.o.d, I'm tired. Don't get any ideas, Eddie. We're allies on this case, nothing more."

"Of course," I said. "I need to get some sleep. Would you like me to fix some hot chocolate before we turn in?"

"Hot chocolate sounds very good," she said. "But where, exactly, are we turning in? How many beds do you have here?"

"Just the one," I said. "In the bedroom at the far end. You can crash there, and I'll put some blankets on the floor here."

"My perfect gentle knight," said Molly, smiling.

I made two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in the tiny galley, and we sat together and talked about nothing in particular for a while. Just winding down, from a long, hard day. Finally we both started yawning, Molly's eyelids drooped heavily, and she went to sleep right there on the couch. I rescued the mug from her slowly relaxing fingers and put it to one side. The sleeping draught I'd put in her mug had worked fine, disguised by the heavy taste of the chocolate. It wasn't that I entirely mistrusted her, but we had tried to kill each other too many times, and I needed to feel safe while I slept.

I picked Molly up and carried her into the small enclosed bedroom at the far end of the barge. I laid her out carefully on the bed and undid a few b.u.t.tons at her throat. She moved slowly in her sleep, murmuring like a dreaming child. I started to sort out a few spare blankets to sleep on, but I was just too tired. And the bed was plenty big enough for two. I stretched out beside her. Molly was already snoring gently. No doubt she'd have a few harsh words to say when she woke up in the morning...but that could wait.

My bed fit me like a glove, and sleep had never felt so good.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

Happy Daze I was dreaming. A great voice spoke in my mind, saying: I can help you, if only you'll let me. There's no end to the things we might achieve together, you and I. I am the answer to all your questions, and all your problems. Just stop fighting me.

I wanted to believe the voice. I really did. But I've never been able to trust anyone apart from me. The family saw to that.

I woke up with a knife at my throat. Molly was sitting astride my chest and not in a good way. She was leaning right over me, the edge of her silver dagger pressing just hard enough into my throat to cut the skin. It stung, more irritating than painful, but I could feel a slow trickle of blood coursing down the side of my neck. I decided to lie very still. Molly's face hung right above mine, red with rage, but her eyes were cold as ice. Her hand was very steady, for the moment, the razor-sharp edge resting just above my Adam's apple. And I'd been having such a good dream too. I gave Molly my very best polite smile.

"Good morning, Molly. Sleep well?"

"You drugged me, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Did you think I wouldn't notice? And you slept in the same bed as me after all that nonsense about blankets on the floor!"

"Yes," I said carefully. "I slept in the same bed as you. Emphasis on the word slept. You needed a good night's sleep, and so did I, so I just...helped things along a little."

Molly's scowl deepened, becoming actually dangerous. "You drugged me. Do you really expect me to ever trust you again after this? You could have done anything to me while I was asleep!"

"Yes," I said. "I could have. But I didn't. Still, you shouldn't take it personally. I was very tired. I'm sure I'll do better next time."

"There won't be a next time, you treacherous little toad," said Molly. But there might have been just a hint of a smile tucked away in one corner of her mouth. She took her knife away from my throat and climbed off my chest. I raised one hand to my throat, and then winced as my fingertips came away wet with blood. Molly sniffed loudly as she got up off the bed. "Don't be such a big baby. You've cut yourself worse shaving. I don't suppose there's a shower anywhere on this boat, is there? I feel really funky after sleeping in my clothes."

"No shower," I agreed. "But you can boil some hot water on the gas cooker, for a wash."

I started to roll out of bed, and then stopped abruptly, crying out despite myself as a stab of pain filled my shoulder and left arm. It hurt like h.e.l.l as I forced myself to sit up, cradling my left arm to my chest. I tried flexing it slowly and yelped again as a vicious pain flashed all the way from my shoulder to my fingertips. Just bending the elbow felt like someone had stuck a screwdriver into the joint and twisted it. Even moving my fingers hurt. I looked across at Molly, but she shook her head immediately.

"Nothing to do with me. Let's have a look at your shoulder."

I couldn't get my s.h.i.+rt off on my own. It hurt too much. Molly had to help me, unb.u.t.toning and then pus.h.i.+ng the s.h.i.+rt back, not hurting me more than she had to. I turned my head carefully to inspect my left shoulder. All around the scar tissue left by the healed arrow wound, my skin was swollen and inflamed. Molly leaned in for a closer look, and then pressed the skin here and there with surprisingly gentle fingers. I hissed at the pain, and she nodded slowly.

"Were you injured yesterday, fighting at the holding pens?"

"No," I said. "I was in my armour. I can't be hurt while I'm in my armour."

"The elf lord's arrow got through," said Molly, studying the scar tissue thoughtfully.

"Yes, but that was...extremely unusual. And I already used a med blob to heal the wound."

"Doesn't seem to have made too good a job of it," said Molly. She stood back and traced a series of complex symbols on the air, glowing trails following her fingertips to leave behind alien characters hanging s.h.i.+mmering between us. Molly studied them silently for a while, and then looked back at me as the symbols faded away. I didn't like the expression on her face.

"Good of you to take an interest," I said, trying to keep it light. "But if you're about to suggest surgery with that knife of yours, I think I'll pa.s.s."

"You're no use to me as a cripple," she said. "Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do for you. The original wound has healed, but it seems the elf's arrow left something behind after you pulled it out. It's not poison, as such. I could cope with that. But there's something in your body that shouldn't be there. I can't tell what it is, but it's spreading."

I nodded slowly. "The arrow came from another dimension," I said. "That's the only way it could pierce my armour. I've seen the substance once before, in the Armourer's lab. He called it strange matter."

"Good name for it," said Molly. "My magic can detect it but not affect it. All I can tell you for sure is that your body doesn't have any defences against it. It's bad now, and it's only going to get worse."

"Say it," I said. "Just say it."

"I'm sorry, Eddie. This strange matter is eating you alive, inch by inch, and I don't have the first idea on how to stop it."

"How long?" I said numbly.

"Three, four days tops."

"And after that?"

"There isn't anything after that. I'm sorry, Eddie."

I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking. Not feeling much, not yet. "I thought I'd have more time," I said finally. "To do all the things I need to do. But I suppose...it's just another deadline. And I can do deadlines. Help me get my s.h.i.+rt back on."

It took both of us to get my left arm back into the s.h.i.+rtsleeve, and I made some more noises, even through gritted teeth. I sat quietly as she did up the b.u.t.tons. I was breathing hard, and I could feel cold sweat drying on my face. But all the time I was thinking, hard. Three days, four tops. The only people who might be able to help me were the doctors back at the Hall. And maybe the Armourer. Uncle Jack. All I knew about strange matter was what he'd told me. That it came from somewhere else, that it had certain useful properties that no one understood, and that it didn't follow any of our rules. But even if I were to go back to the Hall, give myself up, the odds were Grandmother would have given orders for me to be killed on sight.

More than ever, I needed answers. Information. Options. And the only people who might have those...were the other rogues.

Molly b.u.t.toned up my collar and wiped the sweat from my face with her handkerchief. I nodded my thanks. I wasn't used to needing help. I wasn't used to hurting. The only way to seriously damage a Drood was to catch him out of his armour, and we're all very hard to surprise. I hadn't been really hurt since I was a teenager. Pain and weakness were new things to me, and I hated them. Molly saw some of this in my face and smiled briefly.

"Welcome to the world the rest of us live in. What do you want to do now, Eddie?"

I stood up carefully. My left arm hung down at my side, quiet as long as I didn't try to use it. I needed to be up and moving, doing...something. "Who's the best rogue to talk to? Who's most likely to know something about me and my family?"

"That would be Oddly John," Molly said immediately. "I've never been able to get much out of him, but I'm pretty sure he knows important things."

"Is he far from here?"

"Two train journeys."

"Forget that. Call up another spatial portal."

"I'm not altogether sure that's wise," Molly said carefully. "They're really only for use in emergencies. They take a lot out of me."

"Could anyone track us through the portal, once we're gone?"

"No. But any number of people would detect a magic like that operating and come here to check it out."

"Let them," I said. "It doesn't matter. I doubt I'll be coming back here again. We can't afford to travel openly in London anymore. By now both my family and Manifest Destiny will have filled the city with agents looking for us. Tell me about this...Oddly John."

"He lives out in Flitwick," Molly said, not quite avoiding my eyes.

"Nice little commuter town some way outside London proper."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"There's lots I'm not telling you. But this...you really need to see this for yourself, Eddie."

"All right," I said. "Let's go."

The portal dropped us off just outside a small town and on top of a gra.s.sy hill overlooking an old Georgian manor house set in its own s.p.a.cious grounds. Birds were singing cheerfully under a bright blue sky, and the early morning air was crisp and clear. All very picture postcard, except for the high stone wall surrounding the manor grounds topped with iron spikes and rolls of barbed wire. The only entrance was through a ma.s.sive iron gate heavy enough to stop a tank in its tracks. Looking beyond the high walls, I could just make out people walking back and forth in the grounds. All very peaceful. But even from a distance, the manor house had a dour and forbidding look, and there was something...wrong, about the people in the grounds. Something about the way they moved, slowly and aimlessly, not interacting with each other. I looked at Molly.

"All right," I said. "Spill it. What kind of a place have you brought me to?"

"This is Happy Acres," Molly said calmly. "A high-security installation for the criminally insane. The locals call it Happy Daze."

"And our rogue is in there? What is he, crazy?"

"Yes, and no," said Molly. "You'll have to see for yourself. Oddly John's position here is...complicated."

We started down the hillside, slipping and sliding on gra.s.s still wet from the dawn, heading towards the home for the criminally insane. All at once, the heavy iron gate didn't look nearly heavy enough. I studied the manor house dubiously until the rising stone walls shut it off from view. I'd never been to a madhouse before. I wasn't sure what to expect. When Droods go seriously crazy, we kill them. We have to. The armour makes them far too dangerous. Like Arnold Drood, the b.l.o.o.d.y Man. I can't believe that b.a.s.t.a.r.d was able to fool us for so long. Molly and I reached the bottom of the hill, and I trailed after Molly as she headed for the entrance. I wasn't holding back. It was just that Molly knew the way.

"So," I said. "Criminally insane. Are we talking...ax murderers and the like?"

"Oh, at least," Molly said cheerfully. "But not to worry; I'm sure everyone will make you feel perfectly at home."

We stopped outside the iron gate, which seemed even bigger close up. It looked like it had been cast in one piece, with bars so thick you couldn't get a hand around them. Its design was stark and purely functional. It was there to keep the inmates in, nothing more. Molly hit the buzzer recessed into the thick stone pillar beside the gate, and after a lengthy pause a heavyset man in hospital whites came over to glare suspiciously through the gate at us. The leather belt around his thick waist held a radio, pepper spray, and a long heavy truncheon.

"h.e.l.lo, George," Molly said easily. "Remember me? I'm here to see my uncle John again. John Stapleton."

"You know the routine, Molly," said George in a surprisingly soft and pleasant voice. "You have to show me a signed and dated pa.s.s from the hospital administration."

"Oh, sure," said Molly. She held an empty hand up before him, and he leaned forward for a closer look, his lips moving slowly as he read the details on a nonexistent pa.s.s. He finally nodded, and Molly quickly lowered her hand. George worked an electronic lock on the other side of the gate, and there was the sound of heavy metal bolts disengaging. The gate swung smoothly open on concealed hydraulics, and Molly led the way into the house grounds. The gate swung shut behind us, locking us in with the inmates.

"Shall I call up to the house for an escort to take you the rest of the way?" said George, his hands resting on his belt next to the pepper spray and the truncheon.

"No, that's all right, George," said Molly. "I know the way."

I must have looked a bit disconcerted, because George smiled rea.s.suringly at me. "First visit? Don't worry. None of the patients will bother you. Just stick to the path, and you'll be fine."

We set off up the wide gravel path. "What was that bit with the empty hand?" I said quietly.