The audience were transfixed, breathless. They’d never encountered anyone like Subway Sue before. I slipped back out the door, Molly behind me, and we went to look in on Mr. Stab. He stood entirely at ease on the stage, glaring calmly out at his equally packed audience, as he lectured them on the skills of murder, the stalking of victims, the joys of slaughter…and how even the smallest seeds of evil can flower in a man and corrupt him. He talked of hunting prey, of tracking a target unsuspected for days or even weeks, if necessary.
“You need to know these things,” he said. “You don’t have your legendary armour anymore. You cannot be invincible warriors, so you must learn to become hunters. You must acquire the techniques of ambush and fighting and killing. And no one knows more about that than me. Learn from me, and I guarantee that most of you will survive the great war that’s coming.”
In the next auditorium, the Blue Fairy was sitting relaxed on a bar stool on the stage, drinking a cocktail with a little umbrella in it, while he lectured on elves, and their often unsuspected interventions in the modern world.
“The elves are long gone,” he said easily. “They walked sideways from the sun centuries ago, dropping out of our world forever. Everyone knows that; but, like most things everyone knows, it’s a crock of shit. Most of the elves are gone, but some remain, intent on revenge. They hate humanity, for ruling the world that was once theirs, and they live to do us harm and bring us down. They’ll side with anyone, or anything, that will help them in their endless, bitter cause.”
And finally, we listened to Janissary Jane tell the family how to fight demons. She marched back and forth across the stage, her cold, practical voice making what she had to say even more disturbing, and scary.
“Demons,” she said flatly, “cannot be reasoned with, or bought off. You can’t negotiate with them. They see us only as a commodity, something to be used. Some come from Hell, some from the past or the future, and some from other worlds or dimensions. It doesn’t matter. All you have to remember is that they only exist to destroy everything you care about. They’ll take your lives, your world, your souls, and use them for their own purposes. And never give a damn. They’re locusts, sweeping through a field until nothing is left. Unless you fight them, with everything you’ve got. And you’re going to have to learn to fight as an army, because this is a war. You can’t be warriors anymore, fighting individual duels. You can’t be heroes. You have to be soldiers, fighting in a great cause. You have to learn to be an army, because there’s armies of them.”
Penny smiled as Molly and I wandered, just a little dazed, back into the lobby.
“Well, Eddie,” she said. “Looks like you finally did something right.”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
“Bitch,” said Molly.
“You’re welcome, bitch,” I said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Thousand and One Damnations
It was early afternoon on a bright and breezy summer day, and the grounds of the Hall rang with the merry sound of organised mayhem. Janissary Jane had half the family out doing military exercises again. Separated into groups with terse, efficient names like Alpha, Beta, and Omega, men and women charged up and down the lawns yelling their battle cries and frightening the gryphons. Group attacked group with blank ammunition, wooden batons, and even bare hands, and generally ran themselves ragged under Janissary Jane’s barked orders. Watching happily from a comfortable deck chair, in the shade of a broad parasol, I thought they looked pretty good. Even if they were making a hell of a mess of the carefully cultivated lawns. The team of gardeners had already thrown a major wobbly, and slouched off for a collective sulk and brew up in their shed.
Janissary Jane had been putting the family through its paces for over two weeks now, and I had to say, the family was taking to military training and discipline like a duck to water. We are all trained to fight the good fight from an early age, but the torcs made it easy. It’s not difficult to play at soldiers when you have the armour to make you fast and strong, and keep you from getting hurt. But not many actually have the aptitude for it. Which is one of the reasons why field agents have always been such a small part of the family.
Training without a torc was a whole different matter. You could get hurt, and so could your opponent. Surprisingly, that hadn’t put off as many of the family as I’d expected. If anything, they embraced the new training. Because it felt more…real. So their achievements felt more real. And they practically worshipped Janissary Jane, who’d done everything the Droods had and more, without the aid of the family armour.
Penny came strolling across the lawns to join me, looking cool and collected in a blindingly white summer outfit, despite the heat of the afternoon. She stood over me, and I offered to pour her a glass of champagne from the bottle I had cooling in an ice bucket. She sniffed disdainfully.
“Are you sure you’re comfortable enough there, Eddie? Got everything you need? Perhaps you’d like me to rush back and bring you out a footstool?”
“Oh, would you?” I said. “I’d be ever so grateful.”
“Blow it out your ear.” Penny looked at the men and women dashing excitedly back and forth in their groups, and throwing themselves upon each with much enthusiasm and violence. “They do seem to be getting into it, don’t they?”
“Damn right,” I said. “I’m exhausted just sitting here watching them. More importantly, it’s doing a hell of a lot for family morale. Everything they’re accomplishing comes from themselves, not from their armour. It’s doing wonders for their self-confidence.”
Penny looked at me. “And that’s why you brought Janissary Jane here.”
“To set an example, yes. I cut the family off at the knees, when I took away their golden torcs. Took away their pride, their self-esteem, and their confidence. Janissary Jane is beating it back into them the hard way, and they love it.”
“I take it you’ve noticed Harry is also watching it all from a safe distance, along with several of his traditionalist chums?”
“Of course,” I said. “He never wants to be a part of anything I organise, but he never misses out on anything that’s happening. He’s probably making notes for his regular report to the Matriarch. She can’t be seen to be taking an interest personally, but Harry’s been her eyes and ears ever since he got here.”
“I told you we should have brought him into the Inner Circle,” said Penny. “Keep your enemies close, and all that.”
“No,” I said flatly. “I don’t trust him.”
“You keep saying that, but you won’t say why.” Penny waited, but I had nothing more to say. She sighed heavily. “All right, his best friend is a hellspawn, but you’re shacked up with the infamous witch of the wild woods. And you let her into the Inner Circle.”
“I trust Molly,” I said. “Hell, I even trust you, Penny dear. Harry, on the other hand … is perhaps a little too much like me. Crafty and devious and following his own flag.”
“You brought the Sarjeant-at-Arms into the Circle,” said Penny. “And you hate his guts. And you know very well he reports everything we say back to the Matriarch.”
“Cyril’s different,” I said. “I can trust him to put the good of the family first. Even over the Matriarch.”
“Well, much as I hate to interrupt this important bit of loafing about you’re so involved in, I have been sent to remind you very firmly, up to and including the use of violence if necessary, that it’s time for the Inner Circle meeting in the Sanctity. We’ve finally got a list of prospective candidates for the new torcs for you to take a look at.”