I grinned. "Are you wearing the authentic nappy under it?"
The Collector's eyes narrowed so much they almost disappeared. "What... do you want, Taylor?"
"The Unholy Grail. You've got it."
"Yes, and I'm keeping it. The dark chalice is a totally unique piece. It's going to be the pride of my collection. The rest of the collecting fraternity will just die when they hear I've got it!"
"We could all die if we don't get this mess sorted out right now," I said.
"Starting very definitely with you," Suzie growled, applying a little more pressure to the gun barrel in the Collector's reddening ear.
He slapped the gun aside and glared right back at her. "Don't you threaten me, Shooter. I'm protected in ways you can't even imagine."
"Unfortunately, he probably is," I said. "So ease off a little, Suzie. Collector, in case it's slipped your attention, we are currently surrounded by whole armies of angels, all of whom would be quite willing to take you apart, right down to the molecular level, while still keeping you alive and aware and screaming horribly if that's what it takes to get you to hand over the Unholy Grail. Only Merlin's power is holding them back, for the moment. You really think your protections are good enough to hold off a whole bunch of really angry angels?"
He sniffed, but he was visibly weakening. "They don't even know where my collection is."
"It's on the Moon," said Suzie, smiling smugly. "Under the Sea of Tranquility."
The Collector actually stamped his foot, he was so angry, and he waved his pudgy fists in the air. "I knew I couldn't trust Razor Eddie... but he had me over a barrel, the bastard. It doesn't matter. Let the angels try and take my prize away from me. They'll discover I can summon up worse things than angels!"
"You're not fooling anyone, little man," said Merlin, and his cold, rasping voice dismissed the Collector's confidence in a moment. "Give up the somber chalice, while you still can. It's already corrupting your mind."
"It's mine!" said the Collector. "You can't have it! You just want it for yourself!"
Merlin laughed briefly, and everyone winced at the awful sound. "Hardly, little man. I once held the true cup of the Christ in my hands. The Sangreal itself. Nothing less will ever tempt me again."
"I won't give up the Unholy Grail!" the Collector shouted. His face was an unhealthy shade of purple. "I won't, and you can't make me! Not even you, Merlin Satanspawn. Not as long as you still want me to find your missing heart for you someday. Everyone else has failed you. I'm your last hope."
Suzie looked at me, and I sighed. "Okay, very quick précis of a very long and complicated story. Merlin lost his heart to a young witch called Nimue, back when the world was a lot younger. She then lost it in a card game. Without his heart, Merlin's power is only a fraction of what it once was. The heart's been through almost as many hands as the Unholy Grail, down the centuries, and is currently... missing in action."
"Couldn't you find it for him, with your gift?" said Suzie.
"Perhaps. That's why Merlin's helping us now. Right, Sir Merlin?"
He smiled and nodded, the flames leaping in his eye sockets. What I didn't tell Suzie was that I had absolutely no intention of ever trying to find Merlin's heart. Nobody in their right mind wanted Merlin to regain his full powers. Even dead, he'd be more trouble than the angels...
"You can't keep the Unholy Grail," I said bluntly to the Collector. "You don't have anything strong enough to hold off angels, and you can bet they'd be ready and willing to destroy your entire collection, fighting each other over possession of the Unholy Grail."
The Collector pouted sullenly. "They would too, wouldn't they? Bloody winged philistines. All right, you can have it! Ugly damned thing anyway. Merlin? Back to the Moon. Please."
"With a little company, to keep you honest," said Merlin.
I looked at Suzie resignedly. "Hang on to your aura," I said. Suddenly Suzie and I and the Collector were somewhere else.
Eight - Cats and Robots and One Last Vicious Truth
Every time I get teleported anywhere, I end up watching my whole life flashing before my eyes. Or at least, edited highlights. Most of it seemed to make some kind of sense at the time. I live in fear that someday Someone will find a way to slip in commercials.
Suzie and the Collector and I materialized out of nowhere, surrounded by thick clouds of noxious black smoke. Merlin learned his magic in the Old School, and still believed in traditional effects. Suzie batted at the smoke with her hand, swearing harshly in between racking coughs, while I checked to make sure I still had two of everything I should have. You can't be too careful with other people's teleport spells. Hidden extractor fans soon sucked most of the black smoke away, and we were able to take a clear look at our surroundings. We'd arrived in an almost blindingly technicolor reception area, with bright hanging silks for walls, dyed in every color of the rainbow, and twice as gaudy, while thick checkerboard padding covered the floor and the ceiling. My feet sank deeply into the cushioned floor, and walking across it I rose and fell so suddenly that I almost felt seasick. The air smelled strongly of something very like pine. Suzie glared about her suspiciously, the shotgun in her hands, but there were no obvious threats.
The Collector brushed aside one hanging silk to reveal a small high-tech console, all gleaming steel and crystal displays. He stabbed at the controls with his podgy fingers, ignoring everything else, while muttering something to his console that sounded suspiciously like Daddy's home. I was more concerned with the fact that I couldn't see a door anywhere. Suzie finished her coughing by hacking up what sounded like half a lung, and then spat viciously on the padded floor.
"I wish Merlin would get over his need for flashy special effects," she growled. "That smoke always plays hell with my sinuses."
"Boys and their toys," I said. "We have to allow Merlin his little eccentricities. Because if we don't, he'll probably turn us into frogs. Collector, what are you doing?"
"Shutting down some of my internal security systems," he snapped, without looking round. "I have all kinds of hidden protections here, and I don't want them all opening fire on you the moment you enter my warehouse. Some of my collection might get damaged. I have to be careful. There are always people trying to break in and steal my precious things. Bastards!"
"The nerve of some people," I murmured. "Thinking they could steal some of the many things you've stolen."
The Collector said nothing, still hunched over his console. I bounced a few times on the padded floor, checking my weight. If we really were somewhere under the Sea of Tranquility on the Moon, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make things feel like home. The gravity, air, and temperature all seemed perfectly normal. Which suggested that the Collector must have a lot more high-tech hidden away somewhere else. Suzie prowled restlessly back and forth in the confined space, poking at the hanging silks with the barrel of her gun. She jabbed at the padded floor with one boot heel and sniffed loudly.
"I always said you belonged in a padded cell, Collector."
"I believe in being comfortable and indulging myself," he said, finally turning away from his console. "The padding is there to protect me in the event of sudden, unexpected fluctuations in the artificial gravity. Most of the tech that keeps this place running comes from a possible future I visited, and I have to admit I'm not fully sure how all of it works. I know which buttons to push, but the minute anything goes wrong, I have to fall back on trial and error. Mostly I let my robots run things. You'll meet them later."