The Man with the Golden Torc sh-1

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The Man with the Golden Torc sh-1 Page 30

by Simon R. Green


  I grabbed the Kandarian amulet in both my hands. It tried to evade me, twisting this way and that, but at such close quarters there was nowhere for it to go. I closed both my hands around the awful thing, squeezing them tightly shut, and the amulet burned my palms with a cold fiercer than any heat. I subvocalised my activating Words, and the golden armour surged around me in a moment even as Archie finally got her knife free and thrust it at my ribs. The heavy steel blade slammed and shattered against my armour as the living metal flowed over both my hands and what they contained. The Kandarian amulet was now inside my armour with me, sealed off and insulated from the rest of the world. And that was all it took to sever Archie’s connection to the amulet.

  I rolled away from Archie as he screamed like a damned soul, Jane’s body thrashing and kicking as his possessing spirit lost its hold on her, and she forced him out. Archie had nowhere to go; his original body had been destroyed long ago. I used my Sight and saw Archie’s real shape superimposed over Jane’s, just for a moment. And then his soul fell away from the world, howling horribly, summoned at last to the Hell that had been waiting for him for so long. I turned off my Sight. I didn’t want to See what was waiting for him.

  Janissary Jane lay unconscious on the floor, twitching and shuddering. Physically exhausted and in psychic shock, probably. But she’d recover. She was a fighter and had known worse in her time.

  The Kandarian amulet writhed inside my enclosing hands like a living thing, burning colder than the fiercest winter. A coldness of the heart, and of the soul. I could feel its presence inside the armour with me, fighting to impose its will on mine. The armour couldn’t protect me while the amulet was inside it. I seemed to a hear a dark inhuman chorus of voices drawing slowly closer: Join us. Join us. Just the sound sickened me, as though something had trailed slime across my mind. I armoured down, and the moment the living metal disappeared from my hands, I threw the nasty thing away from me.

  The amulet skidded across the floor and Sebastian snapped out of his apparent stupor, rolled to one side, and snatched it up. He scrambled to his feet, smiling terribly as he clutched his prize to his heart. "You’re not the only one who can play possum, Eddie; I protected myself against all poisons years ago. And now…I have power beyond dreams. Because if you haven’t got the balls to use this, Eddie, I have. I shall enjoy hundreds of bodies, young bodies, and live lifetimes…"

  "Throw it away," I said, rising slowly to my feet. "It’ll destroy you."

  "Like that fool Archie Leech? I don’t think so. I can control it."

  "No one can control it," I said. "It corrupts. That’s what it does. You’ll end up just like Archie, a spiritual rapist."

  "I need a new body," said Sebastian. "This one’s getting old. It’s slower, and it lets me down. People like me shouldn’t have to grow old. Not when we enjoy life so much. Appreciate its pleasures and its qualities so much. It isn’t right that someone like me should die just because an old body is wearing out." He smiled at me, and it wasn’t his smile, not anymore. "Maybe I’ll take your body, Eddie, just for a little test drive. See what it can do. And maybe I’ll do awful, awful things with your body, just for the fun of it."

  Molly hit him over the head from behind with the Manx Cat statuette, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious. He’d been so taken up in taunting me that he never even noticed Molly sneaking up behind him. The Manx Cat cracked into pieces, crumbled, and fell apart. Molly looked at me, shrugged and smiled, and brushed the last few bits off her hands. The Kandarian amulet had spilled out of Sebastian’s hand as he collapsed, and now it lay on the floor between us. Such a small thing, to be so evil. I stepped forward and stamped on it, and the ancient stone crumbled into dust under my heel.

  But with the Manx Cat shattered, the power sustaining Molly’s tangle spell was gone too, and the dozen black-uniformed men scrambled to their feet again, raising their guns. Mad as hell at being taken out so easily, they all opened fire on Molly. The bullets hit her again and again, sending her staggering backwards under the repeated impacts. Blood spurted from dozens of wounds, snapping her head back and forth, and she couldn’t get enough breath to scream. Finally the men stopped firing, and Molly fell, as though that was all that had been holding her up. I fell to my knees beside her and grabbed her hand. She tried to say something to me, blood gushing and spraying painfully from her mouth, and all I could do was hold her hand until at last the life went out of her eyes. I looked up at the armed men, and they all fell back a step, afraid of whatever it was they saw in my face.

  But I wasn’t going to kill them. That wasn’t enough.

  I finally thought to hit the button on my reverse watch and rewind time. I’d almost left it too long. The watch didn’t want to take me far enough back, but I just hit it again and again and again, until finally it took me back to the point where the armed men were just starting to train their guns on Molly. I threw myself in front of her, between her and the bullets, armouring up as I went. The living metal swept over me even as the bullets flew through the air; and fast as the bullets were, the armour was faster. Every single shot that would have killed Molly ricocheted off me instead.

  I threw myself upon the armed men, beat the crap out of them, and tossed them around the room for a while, until Molly finally stepped in and stopped me. Not for their sakes, but for mine. She knew I’d feel bad afterwards, if I killed them. I armoured down and smiled tremulously at her. I’d come so close to losing her.

  "I’m a witch," Molly said slowly, holding my eyes with hers. "I see things, and remember things, that others can’t. I remember lying on that floor, dying…and then you rewrote history, changed the world itself, just to save me. And risked your own life doing it. You couldn’t have been sure the armour would cover you in time to save you from their guns. Why would you do that, risk that, to save me?"

  "Because I had to," I said.

  "Eddie…" she said.

  "Molly…" I said.

  "Oh, God," said Molly. "Are we having a romantic moment?"

  We looked at each other; and it would be hard to say which of us was more appalled at the thought.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Gone Fishing, on Golden Pool

  "I’ve made a decision," I said to Molly.

  "Good for you," said Molly.

  "I’ve decided I don’t want to meet any more rogues," I said.

  "Not if they’re going to be like the ones I’ve already met. I mean, one crazy, one shut-in, and one moral cripple? Is that the kind of future I’ve got to look forward to if by some miracle I survive the next few days?"

  "Probably," said Molly. "If you give up, like they did. They were all afraid to do anything that mattered. How about you?"

  "I’m going home," I said. And just like that, I was certain. "It’s all that’s left to me. I’m going back to the Hall, and the library, and my backstabbing family. Because they’re the only ones I can be sure have the answers I need."

  "Good for you!" said Molly. "I’m coming too!"

  "No, you’re bloody not," I said. "This is going to be difficult enough without having to look after you as well."

  "I do not need looking after," said Molly, her face clouding up dangerously.

  "You could die in a hundred ways just trying to get onto the Hall’s grounds," I said, trying hard to sound reasonable. "My family is protected in ways even I don’t like to think about sometimes."

  "If you think I’m going to miss out on an opportunity to stick it to the Droods where they live, you’ve got another think coming. I’ve dreamed of revenge like this! Usually after eating cheese. I’m going with you, and you can’t stop me!"

  "Will you please keep the noise down?" growled Janissary Jane. She sat up slowly, wincing and groaning, and then peered blearily about her, taking in the unconscious Manifest Destiny soldiers piled up around her. "Must have been a hell of a party…Shaman? That you? Where the hell am I? And what have I been doing…? It feels like someone took a dump in my head."

>   "You were possessed by Archie Leech," I said, helping her to her feet.

  "I drove his spirit out of your body, and then destroyed it. He won’t be coming back. Ever."

  "Leech? That rat turd? He must have sneaked in while my defences were down. Hold everything; you destroyed him? No offence, Shaman—I mean, well done and thanks for everything and all that—but I never really saw you as being in Archie Leech’s league."

  "Yeah, well, that’s because he isn’t Shaman Bond," said Molly. "He’s been fooling us all for years with that mild-mannered reporter shit."

  "Molly? You’re here too?" Janissary Jane squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head slowly. It didn’t seem to help. "Well, if he isn’t Shaman Bond, who the hell is he?"

  "There’s no easy way to say this," I said. "I’m a Drood, Jane. Eddie Drood, field agent, at your service. Only I’m not an agent for the family anymore. They made me rogue, so I’m on the run from everyone."

  "I go to fight in the hell dimensions for one lousy month, and the whole world stops making sense while I’m gone." Janissary Jane studied me suspiciously. "You’re a Drood, Shaman? You? Bloody good disguise…Eddie. You two-faced little shit. Wait a minute; I’m still catching up here. You’re a rogue? What did you do?"

  "I don’t know. But my family wants me dead. That’s why Archie came after me." I thought it best to keep the explanations simple for the moment. And I didn’t think I’d tell her that Archie had targeted her specifically just to get back at me. I could do that later. From a safe distance.

  "At least you killed the bastard," Janissary Jane growled, running her hands over herself vaguely, as though checking for signs of recent interference. "I’ll bet you didn’t even take the time to torture him properly first, did you? No; I thought not. So, Eddie; why are we all here, who are all those sleeping beauties, and why are you hanging out with the infamous Molly Metcalf?"

  "If I hear one more person use that word…" Molly said ominously.

  "You mutilate a few cattle, abduct a few aliens, and you get a reputation…"

  "Let us please not go there," I said quickly. "Jane, Molly and I are working together for the moment. On matters of mutual interest."

  "Like what?" said Janissary Jane. "What could you two possibly have in common?"

  "We’re going back to his old family home to take names and kick arse," Molly said happily. "And possibly burn the place to the ground while we’re at it."

  "You’re not much of a one for keeping secrets, are you?" I said.

  "You want to break into the Hall?" said Janissary Jane. "Better you than me. I’ve been to hell and back so many times they made me up a special visa, and I still wouldn’t go anywhere near the Hall. You couldn’t bust through their defences with a tactical nuke. The Chinese tried, in ’sixty-four."

  "Nineteen sixty-five, actually," I said.

  "Shut up, Eddie; I’m on a roll," said Janissary Jane. "The point is, the Hall has serious defences. A hundred different ways to kill your intruder, all of them quite spectacularly vicious and nasty."

  "Indeed," I said. "Spot on, in fact."

  "So what you need," said Janissary Jane, "is a skeleton key."

  Molly and I looked at each other. "What?" I said.

  "You need something to get you through the Hall’s defences without them kicking off on you. Something that’ll let you sneak through."

  "No, hold everything," I said. "There’s no such thing. The whole point to my family’s many and varied protections is that there are no weak points, no possibilities for overrides. My family has spent generations designing and improving on their defences, including multiple redundancies and a quite appalling attention to increasingly nasty details. It has to be that way, or our enemies would have wiped us all out long ago. We have a lot of enemies."

  And then I broke off as a new wave of pain shot through me. It stabbed through my shoulder as though I’d just been shot again, a pain so bad it made me cry out despite myself, and then it slammed down through the whole of my left side. It hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I staggered and would have fallen if Molly and Janissary Jane hadn’t been there to grab me from both sides.

  "Shaman? What is it? Molly, what’s wrong with him?"

  "Elf lord shot him with an arrow made of strange matter," said Molly.

  "The stuff’s still in his system, poisoning him. Eddie, can you hear me? Eddie?"

  "I’m all right," I said, or thought I said.

  "Jesus, he looks bad," said Janissary Jane. "Should we get him to a healer? I know some good people, ask no questions…"

  "It wouldn’t help," Molly said flatly.

  "Oh," Janissary Jane said quietly. "Like that, is it?" And after a moment, she said, "Bloody elves. Vicious little turds. Okay, strange matter…Nasty stuff, yes; other dimensional…Really bad mojo, when you can get your hands on it, which mostly you can’t. Never dealt with the stuff myself, but I know a man who has. Word is, he can even supply it direct from the source on occasion."

  I forced strength back into my legs until they straightened and could hold me up again, and then I forced my head up to look at Janissary Jane. "Who?" I said.

  "I think you need to lie down, Shaman. I mean, Eddie."

  "Haven’t got the time. I’ll lie down when I’m dead." I breathed deeply, fighting down the pain and pushing it away through sheer force of will. I gently eased my arms out of Molly’s and Janissary Jane’s grips, and they immediately stepped back to give me some room, keeping a watchful eye on me. I could feel cold sweat drying on my face, but my thoughts were clear again. "Jane, who do you know that knows about strange matter?"

  "The Blue Fairy."

  "What?" said Molly. "Him? The man’s a major-league piss artist! Never met a bottle of booze he didn’t like!"

  "I saw him sober once," I said. "He looked awful."

  Janissary Jane sighed loudly. "You of all people should know enough to look past the surface. You do know why he’s called the Blue Fairy, don’t you?"

  "Well, yes," I said. "Because he’s gay."

  "No! I mean, yes, he’s gay, but that’s not where the name originally came from. It’s because he’s half elf."

  "Oh, come on!" said Molly. "Are we talking about the same guy? That useless little tit who’s always sponging drinks at the Wulfshead?"

  "He can’t be half elf," I said. "Elves never breed outside their own kind. It’s their strongest taboo, utterly forbidden."

  "There’s always a few who move to a different drummer," said Janissary Jane. "The elves have a special name for those who indulge outside the permitted gene pool. They call them perverts."

  Molly smirked. "You mean they’re humosexuals?"

  "Please," I said. "Let us not go there."

  "The point," Janissary Jane said firmly, "is that the Blue Fairy has some elf abilities and even a few direct contacts within the Fae. I would be prepared to bet you good money that he was the one who supplied your elf lord with the strange matter to make his arrow. So he might be the man to go to for a cure. Certainly he knows more about strange matter than anyone else I know."

  "All right," I said. I was feeling better, for the moment. "Any idea of where he’s hiding out at the moment? He left his old place after the unfortunate incident with the kobold in Leicester Square. Though what they ever saw in each other…"

  "He moved around a lot after that," said Janissary Jane. "And he went downhill rapidly. He didn’t want any of his old friends to see what he’d been reduced to."

  "Hell, we wouldn’t have cared," said Molly.

  "No, you probably wouldn’t," said Janissary Jane. "But he did. The point is, I know where to find him. I throw him the odd commission, now and again, for old times’ sake. If you want, I can take you right to him."

  "I want," I said. "But we can’t go gallivanting across London in plain sight, not while Manifest Destiny are after me. That’s who the sleeping beauties belong to, by the way."

  "You’ve got them mad at you as well?" s
aid Janissary Jane. "Good for you! You continue to rise in my estimation, Eddie. Can’t stand these amateur-night wannabe soldiers, in their pretty new uniforms. They give real mercenaries a bad name. Probably crap their pants and then run a mile if you dropped them into a real war zone, crying for their mommies all the way."

  "Could we at least make an effort to stick to the subject?" I said just a little plaintively. "The point is, it’s not safe for Molly and me to travel openly across London, and she’s all out of spatial portals."

  "Well, how did I get here?" Janissary Jane said reasonably. "How did the Manifest Destiny arseholes get here? They must have had transport, right?"

  We all moved over to the shattered window and looked out. Down in the street below were three large black cars, parked in a row, that looked very familiar to me. I couldn’t help but grin.

  "Perfect," said Molly. "Look, they even have tinted windows, so no one can see in! No one’s going to pay any attention to just another Manifest Destiny car out on patrol."

  "All right," I said. "Let’s go and give the Blue Fairy his wake-up call."

  Molly insisted we take a little time to leave a suitably insulting message for whoever came to retrieve the unconscious Manifest Destiny soldiers. So she and Janissary Jane pulled down all the soldiers’ trousers and underwear, commenting in loud and very unfair ways as they went along, and arranged the unconscious men in an erotic daisy chain. Then they stood back to admire their work and giggled a lot. Never let them give you to the women.

  "I’d love to see them try to explain this to their superior officers when they turn up," Molly said happily, and Janissary Jane nodded solemnly.

  While they were busy, I had my own ideas for a little useful mischief. I picked up Sebastian’s stylised Edwardian telephone and phoned home. As always, they picked up on the first ring, and a familiar voice answered. One I’d never expected to talk to again.

  "Hello, Penny," I said. "Guess who?"

  There was a sharp intake of breath at the other end, and then Penny’s well-trained professionalism quickly reasserted itself. "Hello, Eddie. Where are you calling from?"

 

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