Night Fall

by Simon R. Green

  “The armour has always been our best weapon,” said Vicky.

  “Then why have so many things been able to get through it?” the Matriarch said sharply. “Ever since we came to this place, I’ve seen all manner of weapons and magics get past the armour and kill the Droods inside! That isn’t supposed to be possible!”

  “This is the Nightside,” Max said simply. “All kinds of things are possible in the long night; that’s the point. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of reality’s rules had been bent, just a little, specifically to weaken our armour. Just in case we ever put aside the Pacts and Agreements.”

  “It seems likely,” said Vicky.

  “Then maybe we can make our armour stronger than the Sarjeant’s,” said the Matriarch. “Ethel! I need to talk to you!”

  The other-dimensional presence immediately manifested, suffusing the Armoury with her rose-red glow, a quiet reminder of gentle sanity and heart’s-ease.

  “No need to shout,” Ethel said calmly. “I’m not deaf. And no, I can’t change your armour. Strange matter is what it is. Max and Vicky are perfectly correct, though; the armour is weaker inside the Nightside. I can’t change that without changing the very nature of reality in this place.”

  “Could you do that?” said the Matriarch.

  There was a long pause as Ethel thought about it. Eddie and Molly exchanged a look; it was a worrying question, with even more worrying implications.

  “Well, yes,” Ethel said finally. “I could do it . . . But I’m not going to. That would be a very bad precedent to set. If I start making decisions like that, allowing myself the right to do things like that, where would it end? This is the kind of thinking that made the Heart what it was. You wouldn’t want me to turn into another Heart, would you?”

  The Matriarch made a loud, exasperated sound. “Every time I want you to do something, you always find a reason to say no! There’s always some excuse! What are you here for if not to help us when we need it?”

  “You really want to know?” said Ethel.

  Something in her voice sent a chill down everyone’s spine, but the Matriarch was too angry to care.

  “Yes!” she said defiantly. “I want to know!”

  “Very well,” said Ethel. “I stay because I see such potential in you. To perform wonders, without the need for armour. I am here to teach you and care for you, to reward you when you do well and hold you back when necessary . . . Till the day comes when you don’t need me any more.”

  “Oh my God . . .” said Eddie. “I get it. I finally get it. You’re raising Droods! We’re your pets!”

  “Yes,” said Ethel. “That’s the word. I told you that you didn’t want to know . . .”

  Her voice fell silent, and the rose-red presence disappeared. She wouldn’t answer them any more, no matter how loudly the Matriarch shouted. The Matriarch finally took a-hold of herself and turned back to the Armourer.

  “If Ethel won’t help us, then I definitely need a weapon. What is there?”

  “There’s always the Forbidden Weapons in the Armageddon Codex,” said Max.

  “No,” William said immediately. “They’re too powerful. There’s a reason why they’re only to be used when reality itself is under threat. Because just using them could be enough to damage reality.”

  “He’s right,” said Eddie. “You can’t use them, Maggie.”

  She rounded on him. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’ve seen them,” said Eddie. And the sound of his voice and the look in his eye was enough to convince the Matriarch.

  “It seems like anything powerful enough to stop the Droods is going to be too powerful for us to use,” said Molly.

  “That is one of the reasons why we’ve survived this long,” said William.

  “But I have to do something!” said the Matriarch.

  William frowned thoughtfully. “There is something you could try . . . Something the Armourer might not know about.”

  Max’s ears pricked up. “If it’s a weapon, Vicky and I should know about it. Weapons are our business.”

  “Quite right, dear,” said Vicky. “You tell them, Max.”

  “I am telling them, dear.”

  William looked at the Armourer, and they both fell silent. Because this new William was not a man to be trifled with.

  “As Librarian, I know many things I’m not supposed to,” he said slowly. “Things the family have forgotten, or don’t like to talk about. We do have one very special, very secret Door, hidden away. A Door too dangerous to be used except under the most extreme circumstances.”

  The Matriarch was already shaking her head. “If there was such a Door, I’d know about it.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Eddie. “There were all kinds of things I wasn’t told when I was running the family. Things certain people thought I didn’t need to know.”

  William looked at the Armourer. “You know the Door I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  They nodded, reluctantly.

  “We’re not supposed to talk about it,” said Max.

  “To anyone,” said Vicky.

  “But I’m in charge of the family!” said the Matriarch.

  “The Sarjeant was very clear on the matter,” said Vicky.

  “And the Sarjeant isn’t someone you argue with,” said Max.

  “Not that we’re frightened of him, you understand,” said Vicky.

  “Of course not,” said Max.

  “We’re just careful.”

  “Very careful.”

  “Why didn’t he want the Matriarch to know?” said Eddie.

  “Because,” Max said reluctantly, “theoretically . . . this particular Door can open onto the Hereafter.”

  There was a long pause. No one wanted to be the first to say anything.

  “I remember seeing Doors marked Heaven and Hell, in the Doormouse’s House of Doors,” Eddie said finally.

  Molly nodded. “He seemed quite certain they would work. Though he swore he’d never tried them.”

  “I can’t believe we’re taking this seriously,” said the Matriarch.

  “It’s the Nightside,” said William.

  “Stop saying that!” said the Matriarch.

  “You weren’t involved when we had to deal with the Apocalypse Door,” said Eddie. “That was real enough.” He turned to the Armourer. “How did we come to acquire a Door that could give us access to the Hereafter?”

  “The Sarjeant ordered the Doormouse to make it for the family,” said Max. “As a special commission.”

  “Because after your experience with the Apocalypse Door, he felt we needed to have something like that for ourselves,” said Vicky.

  “He didn’t like the idea of anyone’s having something we didn’t have,” said Max.

  “The Doormouse delivered it some time ago,” said Vicky. “But as far as I know, no one has ever tried it to see if it would work.”

  “For fear of what might come through,” said Max.

  “Why would we want to use it now?” said Eddie.

  “To bring back the dead,” said William. “To bring back the only Droods everyone in the family would listen to, even the Sarjeant. I mean your uncles, Eddie . . . James and Jack. The greatest field agents this family has ever known. If anyone would know how to bring the family together again, it would be them.”

  There then followed a spirited discussion as to whether this was a good idea, involving quite a few raised voices. Would James and Jack want to return, and if they did, what might they say or do? Would they want to remain and run the family afterwards? And most of all; if the family did start bringing back the dead . . . where would they stop? Who else would they bring back? In the end, the reluctant consensus was that they should at least try the Door. Because no one had any better ideas. The Matriarch fixed the Arm
ourer with a cold look.

  “Where exactly is this Hereafter Door that I was never supposed to know about?”

  “In the one place that has become a permanently soft spot between this world and the next,” said Max.

  “Because of who was there for so long,” said Vicky.

  “Wait a minute!” said Eddie. “You’re talking about the ghost of Jacob and the old chapel!”

  “Exactly,” said William. “If you’re going to hide something, put it where no one wants to look.”

  “But . . . I used the old chapel as my office for a while!” said the Matriarch. “I never noticed anything!”

  “You wouldn’t,” said Max.

  “It was designed that way,” said Vicky.

  Molly looked at Eddie and shook her head. “Your family . . .”

  “Finding the Door isn’t the problem,” said Max. “We don’t know how to open it.”

  “The Sarjeant never told us,” said Vicky. “Never even allowed us to examine it.”

  “Not that we really wanted to,” said Max.

  “Not really,” said Vicky.

  “Some things are better left undisturbed,” said Max.

  “Though we were interested,” said Vicky.

  “Oh yes, very interested,” said Max.

  “The Sarjeant must have known how to open it,” said Eddie.

  “He had a key,” said Max. “But knowing him, he still has it on him.”

  Eddie looked at Molly. “You’ve always been good with locks . . .”

  “Loath as I am to admit it, this sounds seriously out of my league,” said Molly. “Fortunately, I think I know someone who could open it. The Doormouse! He created the Hereafter Door, after all.”

  “Then we’d better go talk to him,” said Eddie.

  “You know where he is?” said the Matriarch.

  “Of course,” said Molly. “He’ll be where he always is, in his House of Doors.”

  “And one of the main access points is in the Nightside,” said Eddie. “Of course, the last time we were there, we did make rather a mess of the place, fighting Hadleigh Oblivion.”

  “At least you don’t have to worry about him this time,” said William.

  They all looked at him. He didn’t appear to be joking.

  “I’m sure the Doormouse will be only too happy to help us out,” said Molly. “And if he isn’t, I’ll just kick his hairy arse till he is.”

  “Molly and I will be back with the Doormouse as soon as possible,” said Eddie. “Everyone else, guard the Hall.”

  “I can do that,” said William.

  * * *

  • • •

  Eddie used his Merlin Glass because he didn’t think it mattered any more whether anyone tracked them, and the Glass dropped them off just outside the House of Doors because there were some protections even it couldn’t get through. The street was deserted, but there was enough general destruction around to show that the Droods had passed through. Some of the fires were still burning. The House of Doors appeared untouched, but the front entrance was locked, and the windows were covered with steel shutters.

  Eddie gave the door a good rattle with an armoured hand, but it wouldn’t budge. So he hit it with his fist. The door didn’t give an inch even though there was enough strength in the blow to punch a hole through a mountain. Eddie stepped back to let Molly have a look at the lock, but she just shook her head quickly.

  “We are talking serious security. I’m not sure I could pick that even if I had my full kit of supernatural burglary tools with me. I suppose we could knock, very politely . . .”

  “Would you answer the door right now?” said Eddie. “No, I’ve got a better idea. Set a Door to open a Door.”

  The Merlin Glass was hanging on the air in the middle of the street, in case they felt like doing the sensible thing and getting the hell out in a hurry. Eddie gestured to the Glass, and it floated reluctantly over to join them. He pressed the Merlin Glass up against the closed door, and its ancient magics overpowered the protections put in place by the Doormouse. The Glass replaced the door, Eddie and Molly strode quickly through, then Eddie pulled the Glass away, and the door returned. Eddie shook the Glass down and put it away in his pocket dimension.

  “The things we take for granted,” said Molly. “You ever think about that, Eddie?”

  “No,” said Eddie.

  He looked around the reception area. It didn’t seem to have changed since their last visit except that someone had cleaned up the mess they’d made. A huge open space of quite staggering style and elegance, with thick carpeting and walls of a white so pure they were practically luminous, the reception area boasted abstract paintings, futuristic furnishings, and a few low tables covered with recent magazines. There was no reception desk and no receptionist. Molly raised her voice.

  “Hey, Mouse! Shop!”

  There was a pause, followed by the sound of scurrying feet, before the Doormouse burst through the door at the far end. A six-foot-tall, vaguely humanoid mouse, with dark-chocolate-coloured fur, under a white lab coat that reminded Eddie irresistibly of the Armourer. Right down to the pocket protector and many-coloured pens. The Doormouse had laid-back ears; long, twitching whiskers; and very human eyes. He looked cute in a disturbing way. Mice aren’t supposed to be that big. He sighed deeply as he recognised his visitors and came reluctantly forward to join them, addressing them in a high-pitched, almost human voice.

  “What are you doing in here? Haven’t your family done enough damage?”

  “I’m not with them,” said Eddie. “We need your help to bring this war to an end. I’m pretty sure both sides have been played.”

  “Who by?” said the Doormouse. “I mean, who would dare?”

  “Puck,” said Molly.

  “Oh, him . . .” said the Doormouse. “Yes, he’d dare. Shifty little bastard. All right, come with me to the Storeroom. We can talk privately there. Watch where you’re stepping, and don’t touch anything!”

  * * *

  • • •

  They followed him out the back and into the Storeroom. Eddie raised the subject of the Hereafter Door, and the Doormouse nodded quickly.

  “I wasn’t terribly keen on making it, but the Sarjeant came here in person to order it; and he’s not the kind of person you say no to. If you like having your organs on the inside.”

  The Storeroom was almost unbelievably vast. Eddie and Molly couldn’t even see the sides, never mind the end. Packed with row upon row of Doors, standing upright and unsupported, hovering a few inches above the colourless floor, under a ceiling so high there wasn’t any sign of it. The Doors stretched away farther than the human eye could comfortably cope with, and then just a bit farther than that. Doors to Anywhere and Anywhen, made from wood and metal, glass and crystal. Some blazed with their own inner light, while others were so dark they might have been spaces between the stars. Each Door had its own special handwritten card, spelling out its particular destination. Eddie spotted a few familiar names: Shadows Fall, Sinister Albion, Carcosa.

  “Why are you still here, Mouse?” said Molly. “Anyone with any sense would have sprinted for the horizon long ago.”

  “I’ve been putting my Doors to good use,” said the Doormouse. “Providing a way out for people who just don’t want to fight any more. The homeless and the wounded, the refugees and the lost souls. Don’t look around; they’re not anywhere you can see.”

  “I’m not here for them,” said Eddie. “I just need the Hereafter Door. What can you tell me about it?”

  The Doormouse sighed heavily. “I always knew that one would come back to haunt me. It was a tricky commission, and I always said no good would come of it. But I couldn’t resist the challenge.”

  “There are Doors here marked Heaven and Hell,” said Molly.

  “And they should work!” sa
id the Doormouse. “The mathematics are perfectly sound!”

  “But you never tried them?” said Molly.

  “Would you?” said the Doormouse.

  “So where does the Hereafter Door open onto?” said Molly. “Heaven or Hell?”

  “Both, neither, who knows?” the Doormouse said briskly. “It was designed to provide access to the Fields Beyond Those We Know. That was the commission, and that was what I created.”

  “And you never even tested it before you handed it over to the Sarjeant?” said Eddie.

  “No,” said the Doormouse. “Because I’m not crazy. Wherever it opens onto, those are not places you want to be caught trespassing.” He stopped and looked steadily at Eddie and Molly. “Tell me you’re not thinking about using it. Things aren’t that bad!”

  “Aren’t they?” said Molly.

  The Doormouse sniffed loudly. “They might be if you open the Hereafter Door. By their very nature, all Doors are exits as well as entrances.”

  “That’s why we need you to come with us to Drood Hall,” said Eddie. “To open the Hereafter Door for us and make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  “Any money in it?” said the Doormouse.

  “No,” said Eddie.

  “But you do want to be there to see what happens, don’t you?” said Molly.

  “Temptress,” said the Doormouse.

  “Oh, you have no idea,” said Eddie.

  “All right, I’ll go with you,” said the Doormouse. “But only because I just know you’ll try to force it open if I don’t, then blame me for everything that goes wrong. Someone sensible needs to be there. In case of emergencies.”

  Molly looked around her. “So many Doors, going to so many places . . . How did you ever get started in this?”

  “Because I’m not just a graduate of the Deep School,” said the Doormouse. “I’m a teacher there.”

  Eddie and Molly looked at the Doormouse with new respect.

  “Creating Doors is just a hobby, really,” said the Doormouse.