"There you go, Eddie! Level playing field. Now kick his self-righteous, hypocritical arse!"
Uncle James looked at his empty gun hand as though he couldn’t quite believe it, and then he looked at me. I smiled, and suddenly so did he. That old familiar devil-take-the-hindmost grin.
"All right, Eddie. Let’s do it. Show me how much you’ve learned."
"You always were a big drama queen, Uncle James," I said.
We armoured up, the living golden metal enclosing both of us in a moment. The terrible pain in my left side was immediately muted, and I didn’t realise how bad it had got until it wasn’t there anymore. The golden armour made me strong and powerful again. My dead brother made me strong…but I couldn’t think about that now. I had to concentrate everything I had on Uncle James, or he would kill me. He was, after all, the most proficient and deadly field agent the family had ever produced.
But he’d never had to face someone like me. A semi-rogue who’d learned all his best tricks outside the family. Tempered in the fires of two appalling days, made stronger than ever before by what I’d had to do to survive. And Uncle James didn’t have my outrage, my anger, my righteous cause. No; he’d never met a Drood like me.
We circled each other slowly, warily, gleaming golden and glorious in the muted light of the old library. I didn’t know what weapons he might have under his armour, but the odds were he wouldn’t dare use them, for fear of damaging the old library. Just a few sparks in the wrong place could cause a terrible fire…And all I had left was the Colt Repeater, its everyday bullets useless against his armour. So it all came down to him and me, one to one, man to man.
I grew heavy spikes on the knuckles of my golden hands. Uncle James grew long slender blades out of his golden hands. The edges looked very sharp. I’d never known a Drood who could do that with his armour before, but the Gray Fox always was the best of us. Champion of a thousand undisputed victories against the forces of evil. He knew tricks no one else did, learned the hard way in thirty years of fighting in dirty secret wars. Deep down…I knew I couldn’t beat him. But I had to try. If only to buy Molly a chance to escape and take the truth with her. Uncle James stood between us and the only exit, the painting’s frame that led back into the main library. So I had to drive him back, drive him away, fight him to a standstill; die on my feet if that was what it took to buy Molly her chance.
My one advantage over the Gray Fox: I was already dying. So I had nothing to lose.
I surged forward, driven by all the supernatural strength and speed my armour could produce, and still Uncle James was ready for me. He sidestepped gracefully, and his right-hand sword came sweeping around, the supernaturally sharp edge slicing right through the armour over my right side. My armour healed itself immediately, closing the cut, but I wasn’t so lucky. Pain flared across my ribs, and I could feel thick blood coursing down my right side under my armour. I’d never felt that before. I charged Uncle James again and again, knowing my only hope was to get in close and grapple with him, and every time he avoided me like a toreador with a bull, his impossibly sharp blades cutting through my golden armour again and again, cutting me, hurting me, slowing me down through accumulated shock and blood loss. The Gray Fox circled me, staying carefully out of my reach, watching for the first sign of weakness so he could move in for the kill.
So I gave him a sign. I pretended to stumble, almost going down on one knee, and he came gliding in for the kill, smooth as any dancer. Only to find me waiting for him. I lunged forward, forcing him backwards, off balance. He quickly got his feet back under him again and straightened up, but by that time I had both my hands around his throat, my golden fingers pressing down on his golden throat. I concentrated and grew sharp barbs on the insides of my fingers, digging them deep into the living metal around his neck. And Uncle James couldn’t grab my wrists to force my hands away without giving up his swords.
He drew back his right arm and slammed his right sword forward with all his armour’s strength behind it. The golden blade punched right through the armour over my left side, through me, and out my back. The pain was horrific. I cried out, and there was blood in my mouth. It coursed down my chin, under my golden mask. I almost passed out. I probably would have if I hadn’t been so angry.
I clung onto his throat with both hands, searching desperately for some last trick I could use against him; and that was when I remembered how I’d once fused both my golden hands together to contain and seal off Archie Leech’s Kandarian amulet. If I could fuse my armour together, why not mine and Uncle James’s? Just for a moment. Just long enough to do what I had to do. I concentrated, focusing all my willpower, sweat running down my face under my mask, and the living metal around his throat yielded to my greater will, my greater fury. His armour fused with mine, and suddenly my bare hands were around his bare throat, and I bore down hard.
He struggled fiercely, not understanding what was happening, throwing me this way and that by sheer brute strength, but I wouldn’t let go. He pulled his right hand back, jerking the sword blade out of me, and I cried out again as I felt things break and tear within me, but still I wouldn’t let go. Not even when he ran me through again, and again, sinking the blade deep in my guts and twisting it back and forth.
He was weakening fast, but so was I, and God alone knows what might have happened if not for Molly.
We’d been so caught up in ourselves, fighting face to golden face, that we’d both lost track of Molly Metcalf. She came up behind Uncle James in his blind spot, and she had Torc Cutter in her hands. She jammed the ugly shears up against the back of his neck, yelled the activating Words, and cut through his golden armour, right where his collar should be. Uncle James screamed once, like a soul newly damned to Hell, and then his armour disappeared all in a moment, and his whole body went limp in my hands. It took me a moment to realise what had happened, and a moment more to armour down and unclench my hands from around his throat, but finally I let go, and his body fell to the floor and did not move again. I sat down suddenly beside him, my legs just giving way. I hurt so bad I could hardly breathe. There was blood all over me. My uncle James was dead. I wanted to hold him in my arms, tell him I was sorry, but my arms wouldn’t work. I would have cried, but somehow…I was just too tired. Too deathly tired.
Molly crouched down beside me and put her arm across my shoulders. "I had to do it," she said. "He could still have won. And he would have killed you, Eddie."
"Of course he would," I said. "He was the Gray Fox. He was the best. He knew the mission always comes first."
"I killed him," said Molly. "So you wouldn’t have to."
"I know," I said. "That was kind of you. But…he was my dad, in every way that mattered. The one Drood I always loved and admired. The man I most wanted to be."
I cried then, and Molly did her best to comfort me. After a while she retrieved Oath Breaker from where I’d left it and hauled me back up onto my feet so she could half lead, half carry me out of the old library, back through the painting, into the main library again. Blood poured down my sides with every movement, my face was slick with sweat, and my hands hung numbly at my side. Away from the old library’s magic suppressor field, she was able to run a whole bunch of healing spells over me, but though she closed my wounds and stopped the bleeding, I couldn’t say I felt any better.
"It’s the strange matter in you," she said finally, frowning. "It’s interfering with my magics. I’ve stabilised you, but that’s about all I can do for you."
"That’s all right," I said, smiling at her. It didn’t feel like much of a smile, but I did my best. "It doesn’t matter, Molly. I’m dying anyway. And none of that three or four days shit, either. Just…hold me together long enough for me to do what I need to do."
"What can we do?" Molly said desperately. "Against something like the Heart?"
"You have Torc Cutter, and I have Oath Breaker," I said. "I’m going to destroy the Heart, and bring the whole damned family down."
"Bec
ause they betrayed you," said Molly.
"Because they lied," I said. "They lied to all of us. About who we are and what we are. We were never the heroes of our story. All along, we were the real bad guys."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
A Family at War
There was only one way to fatally weaken the family. To break their hold on the world. Take away the power that made them strong, made them untouchable: their glorious golden armour. And the only way to do that was to destroy the source of the armour: the Heart. Only a few days ago I would have found that unthinkable; hell, I’d risked my life to defend the damned thing from outside attack. But step by painful step I had been driven to this place, this moment, forced to turn away from everything I’d been taught and brought up to believe in. All that was left to me now was to destroy the one thing I was raised to revere and protect above all others. The rotten, corrupt, lying Heart of the Droods.
Life’s a bitch sometimes.
I hefted Oath Breaker in my hand. Just a stick, really; a long wooden cane carved with symbols I couldn’t even read. It didn’t look like much, to destroy an invader from another dimension and bring an end to centuries of lies. But as with so many other things where my family was concerned, appearances were deceiving. I only had to glance at Oath Breaker with my Sight to see a power so great, so terrible, I had to look away or it would blast the eyes from my head. Oath Breaker was ancient and awful, made when the world was young specifically to undo things that could not be allowed to exist. There were stories that said Oath Breaker had thrown down cities and continents in its time, and killed old gods so thoroughly that no one even remembered their names anymore.
It occurred to me that by destroying the source of the family’s armour, I might be signing my own death warrant. And that of everyone else in my family. I’d seen Torc Cutter kill my uncle James by severing his collar. It could be that no Drood would survive if I took their armour away. But I’d come too far now to even consider turning back. The family that had bowed down to the Heart’s murderous demands for so long, that had chosen to rule humanity instead of protect it, that had embraced the ruthless aims of Zero Tolerance…was not a family I recognised anymore. All that was left to me was to save the family’s honour or put it out of its misery forever.
And what the hell; I was dying anyway.
At least with the Heart destroyed, there was a chance that all the sacrificed souls trapped inside the massive diamond would be freed at last to pass on to the afterlife denied them for so long. Perhaps they would speak for me at the gates of Heaven or Hell, and ask that I not be judged too harshly for all my crimes and sins. That I had done at least one good thing in my life.
"The only way to use Oath Breaker," I said to Molly, "is up close and personal. That means we have to get into the Sanctity, the most closely guarded chamber in the Hall, and stand before the Heart itself."
"Hold everything," said Molly. "Even assuming we can get there, which I’m not, but just for the sake of argument, isn’t there just the smallest possibility that destroying an alien life-form like the Heart could be extremely bloody dangerous? I mean, you use an unknown weapon like Oath Breaker on an unknown other-dimensional thing like the Heart, and God alone knows what kind of forces and energies might be released. You could blow up the whole house. Hell, you might even blow up the whole country."
"Why think so small?" I said. "We might blow up the whole world. But you know what, Molly? I just don’t care anymore. This is something I have to do, and it’s something I’m going to do. Whatever the cost. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to…"
"Oh, screw that," Molly said briskly. "I didn’t come this far to miss out on seeing the Droods’ power broken once and for all. This is what I signed on for, Eddie, and don’t you forget it. To have my revenge on the family who murdered my parents."
"The family killed my parents too," I said. "Though they would never admit it. So I suppose…this is my revenge too."
"Besides," said Molly. "You’d probably mess it up on your own anyway. You need me, Eddie."
I smiled at her. "Thank you," I said. "For everything."
"Wouldn’t have missed it for the world," she said, and smiled back at me.
"We’ve come a long way together," I said. "All those years we wasted, trying to kill each other…"
"Don’t get all sloppy and sentimental on me now, Eddie. We have things to do. Maybe later there will be time for…other things."
"If there is a later."
"Oh, look on the bright side: the odds are your family will kill us long before we get anywhere near the Heart."
We laughed quietly together, and then I took her in my arms and held her close. I couldn’t hold her tightly—it hurt my left side too much—but she understood. She held me like I was the most precious thing in her life, which might crack and break if handled too roughly, and buried her face in my shoulder. We stood like that for some time, and then we made ourselves let go. It was all the time we could allow ourselves. We kissed, quickly, and then we stepped back and took on our professional aspects again. The rogue Drood and the wild witch, determined to do or die and probably both.
"So," said Molly, entirely businesslike again. "Do you know of anymore shortcuts that can take us from here to the Sanctity? Preferably one that doesn’t involve being chased by a whole bunch of hungry spiders with severe glandular problems?"
"Unfortunately, no," I said. "The Sanctity is sealed off from the rest of the Hall by really powerful forces. Partly to protect the Heart from outside attack, and partly to protect the family from the Heart’s various emissions and energies. You can access the Sanctity only by approaching it via the single officially authorised route. Anything else will trigger the Hall’s internal security responses…and we really don’t want to do that. If you thought the defences in the grounds were bad, they’re nothing compared to what’s inside the Hall. Death could be the kindest thing that would happen to us."
"God, you’re depressing to be around sometimes," said Molly. "Surely the official route will be heavily guarded by now?"
"Of course. And don’t call me—"
"Don’t you dare."
"Sorry. Imminent death and danger always brings out my flippant side. No, we’re going to have to fight our way through a whole army of armoured Droods just to get to the Sanctity."
Molly produced Torc Cutter from a hidden pocket in her dress and scowled darkly at the ugly shears. "They’ll probably pack the corridors with cannon fodder. All the inexperienced, expendable Droods. It’s what I’d do. Just how many more of your family are you prepared to see die, Eddie?"
"There’s already been one death in the family too many. There has to be another way…"
Molly waited patiently while I thought fiercely, coming up with plan after plan and turning them all down. The family had had centuries to come up with counters to every possible way of taking the corridors by storm. The corridors…I looked at Molly and grinned suddenly.
"When I’m in the armour, I’m stronger, faster, more powerful. Stronger by far than the fragile world I move in. So why walk along the corridors, going this way and that to reach my destination, when there’s a much quicker way? Why not walk in a straight line to the Sanctity, smashing my way through everything in my path?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," said Molly, her eyes sparkling.
I slipped Oath Breaker through my back belt and armoured up. My Sight showed me the straight line I needed from where I was to where the Sanctity was. I turned to the wood-panelled wall on my left and punched a great jagged hole through the heavy teak. I pulled my golden hand back, and a whole panel came away. I stuck both hands into the gap and tore the wall apart with the armour’s strength. The dense wood ripped and tore as though it was paper. Molly jumped up and down, cheering and clapping her hands together delightedly. I forced my way through the wall and into the room beyond, and Molly hurried through after me.
The room was full of couches and settees and
love seats in various periods and styles, all of them pleasantly comfortable and cosy. A perfect place to relax and indulge in quiet contemplation. I strode across the room, kicking the heavy furniture out of my way, headed for the next wall. Molly followed behind, murmuring, "Typical man…" just loudly enough for me to hear. And then the door burst open, and a dozen armoured Droods charged into the room, splintering the door frame as they all tried to squeeze through at once. It was obvious from their haste and clumsiness, as well as the haphazard way they grouped themselves before me, that none of them had any combat experience. Probably just house Droods, pressed into service. Thrown into my path to slow me down until more experienced fighters could get to me here. Poor bastards. Just more innocents sacrificed for the family good. I studied them as they fanned nervously out into a semicircle before me, gleaming and golden, and then just stood there facing me. Clearly none of them wanted to be the one to make the first move.
"Get out of my way," I said, and it wasn’t difficult at all to sound cold and nasty and dangerous.
Give them credit, none of them backed off. One Drood actually managed a step forward. From his voice he was young, but even though he had to be scared shitless his tone was firm and steady.
"We can’t let you pass. You’re rogue. We fight for the honour of the family."
"So do I," I said. "If you only knew. Stand aside. You know you can’t stop me. I’m field trained."
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