“Yes, you can. You don’t need me nearly as much as you think you do. You’re a lot stronger than you believe, Eddie. Than you allow yourself to be. I’ll see you later.”
She pulled herself out of my grip and hurried off down the corridor, heading for the front entrance and the freedom of the grounds. I called after her, but she didn’t look back once. So I went on to the Sanctity alone, wondering what the hell I was going to say.
When I got there, somehow the Armourer had contrived to arrive ahead of me. He raised one wrist to show off a teleport bracelet and waggled it at me meaningfully. I deliberately ignored him and looked around me. Gathered together in the presence of the softly glowing Strange were Penny, the Sarjeant…and Harry. He folded his arms across his chest and gave me a smug smile. The Sarjeant stood beside Harry, being ostentatiously supportive. Penny looked at me thoughtfully. There was no sign of Jacob. Strange’s crimson glow didn’t feel nearly as comforting as usual. I gave everyone there my best hard stare.
“Well, well, this is a surprise. Harry Drood, present at what is supposed to be a private meeting of my Inner Circle. What are you doing here, Harry?”
“I was invited,” he said easily. His mouth was still swollen and bruised from where I’d hit him. He could have had that fixed easily, but right now it was more useful as it was. As visible proof of my temper and brutality. It certainly didn’t stop him smiling triumphantly at me.
“Harold has a right to be heard,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.
“I see,” I said. “And is that what all of you feel?”
“He was there with you, when it all went wrong,” said Penny. “We need an independent witness as to exactly what happened. You must see that, Eddie.”
“Oh, I see a lot of things,” I said. “I should have remembered that betrayal and backstabbing are just business as usual in this family.”
The Armourer stirred uneasily. “Don’t be like that, Eddie. You know I’m on your side. But we need the facts as to what happened. And we have to be seen to be impartial if our decisions are to be accepted by the family as a whole. It may be that Harry can tell us things about the battle that you can’t. We’re going to need all the information we can put together, if we’re going to take on more Loathly Ones in their nests. We’re not here to judge you…”
“Aren’t you?” I said. “No, perhaps not you, Uncle Jack. But they are. They’ve already made up their minds. I don’t have time for this, people. There are things I need to be doing. For the good of the family.”
“Don’t you dare walk out on us!” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.
“Oh, blow it out your ear, Cyril,” I said.
And I stalked out of the Sanctity without looking back, even when first the Armourer and then Penny called my name. I was so angry my hands had curled into fists again, clenched so tight they were actually painful. My heart was pounding like a triphammer, and I could feel the angry flush in my face. I had to walk out. I couldn’t let them goad me into saying the wrong thing, making the wrong decision. There was no point in staying; the hanging judges had already made their decision. And without Molly to back me up, and the Armourer dithering… I would have been outvoted or shouted down no matter what I said. By my own Inner Circle… I couldn’t believe they’d invited Harry without even checking with me first.
I strode through the corridors and connecting rooms of the Hall, fuming to myself and glaring at any member of the family who got in my way. Most had the sense to keep well back. None of them spoke to me, just watched silently as I passed. Which suited me. Just one snide comment and I would have knocked them down.
Still, mad as I was, a part of me stood back, shaking its head and saying This isn’t like you. You always believed in don’t get mad, get even. When the Matriarch denounced me as a rogue, and sentenced me to death, I didn’t lose my rag; I went straight into planning how to bring her down. But then, I’d known I was innocent; that I hadn’t done anything wrong. That kept me going, despite all the obstacles put in my path. This…was different. There wasn’t room in me for anything but anger, most of it aimed at myself.
Because I screwed up. I got my people killed. My family. And nothing else mattered. By the time I got to the front door, the anger had died down to a dull throb, and I was thinking more clearly. Or at least clearly enough that I was more concerned about Molly than myself. I hadn’t taken her seriously enough, when she said she couldn’t live in the Hall; that she needed to live among living things, in the wild. I knew she was having trouble adjusting, but I thought she’d get over it… now I had to wonder if she ever would. If she ever could. This was a woman used to living in her own private forest, after all. While I … had to stay here, in the Hall, or risk losing control of the family.
Martha had already told me to my face that she was only waiting for me to make a mess of things, so she could come sweeping back and restore the Matriarchy. And what then? The restoring of all the old ways? Gold armour instead of silver, paid for by the sacrifice of children? Back to the family running the world instead of protecting it? No. I couldn’t let that happen. My duty to the family outweighed my duty to myself. It always had. I couldn’t turn my back on my family, not even for Molly. It’s always the family ties that matter, whether we like it or not.
I could lose Molly. The only woman I ever loved.
I came to the front entrance, strode through the front door, and then stopped and looked down the long gravel path as an ambulance materialised suddenly out of thin air. This rather caught my attention, as nothing is supposed to be able to materialise in our grounds unless we give permission well in advance. Which mostly we don’t. The ambulance came roaring up the path to the Hall, and then skidded to a halt right in front of me, spraying my shins with flying gravel. The sign on the side of the ambulance said Dr. Syn’s Fly by Night Delivery Service. The cab door opened and the driver got out. A cheerful sort in the traditional starched white uniform. He strode over to me, thrust a clipboard and pen into my hands, and saluted briskly.
“Sign here, squire. One looney to go, and no I don’t answer questions. I just drop people off and leg it before they can turn nasty. Sign there, please, on the dotted line. You are acknowledging delivery of one William Dominic Drood, also known as Oddly John. And get a move on, squire; I’ve got this American gentleman and his giant rabbit to drop off yet.”
I signed Harry’s name where indicated, and handed back the clipboard. I’ve always been a cautious sort. The driver saluted me again, went around to the back of the ambulance, unlocked a very heavy padlock, and pulled open the doors with a hearty cry of, “Come on out you lovely honey, you’re home.” William Drood stepped out of the ambulance, blinking in the bright summer light, and the driver took him firmly by one arm and brought him over to me.
“Here you are, squire. One headbanger, as ordered. Hours of fun for the whole family. Try not to lose him; you wouldn’t believe the paperwork if I have to chase him down again. Have a nice day! Forgetting you already!”
One more salute and he was back in the cab again. The ambulance screeched off down the gravel path and disappeared in midscreech. The day seemed suddenly, blessedly, quiet.
“What an appalling cheerful person,” said William. “I really must remember to send him a note of thanks. Inside a letter bomb.”
“Welcome back, William,” I said. “Welcome home.”
He nodded vaguely and looked around him. He didn’t seem particularly happy to be back. He did look better than the last time I’d seen him, alone in his cell at the Happy Daze sanatorium. They’d dressed him up in a good suit before sending him home, though he looked distinctly ill at ease in it. In fact, he looked generally uneasy. His face seemed somehow in between expressions, and his eyes were as haunted as ever. As though he was still seeing strange worlds and alternate realities out of the corner of his eyes. And given who he was … I said his name again, and his gaze slowly returned to me. I put out my hand, and after a pause he shook it solemnly.