“Trust me,” said MacAlpine. “I wouldn’t dare let anything happen to him.”
Outside in the corridor, I reached out to the Sarjeant-at-Arms through my torc. And much to my surprise and relief, I managed a brief if variable contact. He sounded very far away, and his voice kept fading in and out, but we could hear each other. I made MacAlpine stand and wait while I brought the Sarjeant up to speed.
“Where are you, Sarjeant?”
“Damned if I know! We’ve fought our way in from the outside, down through the roof and in through the walls, heading for the centre of the castle, and waded through a whole army of Nazi clones in the process. We’ve been destroying anything that even looked dangerous along the way, including the conspiracy’s teleport gates! The Satanists aren’t going anywhere, Eddie. They’re trapped in here with us. Where are you?”
“Just leaving the cells, along with an agent of MI-13 I picked up along the way. He says he can call in a whole brigade of SAS combat sorcerers, if you feel the need. . . .”
“Good to hear,” said the Sarjeant unexpectedly. “We’ve taken casualties, Eddie. I’ll take all the help we can get.”
“I take it you’ve encountered the clickers, Sarjeant. How are you coping?”
“After a few fairly disastrous close encounters, when it all came down to hand-to-hand fighting and every nasty trick we could spring on them, we learned to scoop up every weapon we came across and shoot the nasty bastards at a distance, before they could even use their clickers. But it’s slowing our advance right down, Eddie. I think the leader and his inner circle have run out of clones to throw at us, but we’re no nearer to getting our hands on them.”
MacAlpine kept crowding me and demanding to know what was going on, so I broke contact with the Sarjeant and filled MacAlpine in on the high spots.
“I think I know where we can find the conspiracy leader,” he said immediately. “We’ve had one of our people close to him for some time, in really deep cover. He told us a lot about the layout of this place. Follow me.”
I let him lead me through the brightly lit stone corridors and passageways, most of them still lined with burning Nazi flags and banners from where Molly had expressed her displeasure earlier. No sprinkler systems in medieval castles. I could still hear signs of fighting, but way off in the distance. The main party of Droods hadn’t caught up with me. MacAlpine warned me not to armour up just yet; golden feet make a hell of a racket on marble floors, and he didn’t think we should advertise our approach. If the leader thought the Droods were almost upon him, he’d probably run. As we drew closer, small groups of Satanists would run past, heading for the battle, and MacAlpine would give them the proper password and they’d keep going.
“You’re a useful person to have around after all, Phil,” I said.
“You have no idea,” he said. “Really.”
I was starting to be seriously impressed with him. It was too easy to forget that this middle-aged, passed-over man had been a pretty decent spy in his day, and had worked with both my uncle Jack and uncle James. The fact that he’d tried to kill me and failed shouldn’t be held against him. A lot of people came into that category.
“Droods may be flashy,” said MacAlpine, “but MI-13 is thorough. You never even knew we were investigating the conspiracy, did you? I always was a better field agent than you ever gave me credit for.”
“Stop fishing for compliments,” I said. “I’m impressed, all right?”
“Not yet,” he said. “But you will be.”
Finally we came to a great oaken door with a huge Nazi swastika carved into it in brutal bas-relief. MacAlpine eased up to the door, listened for a moment and then carefully turned the handle and opened it a crack. He slipped me a quick wink and then pushed the door all the way open. He strode in, and I moved quickly in after him. Beyond the door was a great auditorium packed with people sitting in row upon row of raked seating, facing an open stage. The door closed quietly behind me.
“All the upper echelons of the new satanic conspiracy,” MacAlpine murmured. “Safe and protected here behind layer upon layer of defences too strong for even Droods to break through.”
I stayed by the door, studying the people in the raked seating, surprised at how many I recognised. Familiar faces from politics, big business, the media, and all kinds of celebrities. And there on the stage was Alexandre Dusk himself, smiling broadly and looking right at me. He made a welcoming gesture in my direction, and everyone in the auditorium turned to look at me and smile. Except they weren’t looking at me. They were looking and smiling at Philip MacAlpine. And when I turned to look at him, he smiled at me and held up one hand. With a clicker in it. He snapped it sharply. I tried to call my armour and couldn’t. MacAlpine gestured to two waiting guards, big muscular types in SS uniforms, and they moved quickly forward to take me by the arms. I didn’t struggle. I had my pride.
“Typical Drood,” said MacAlpine. “Always ready to believe the best of people. I thought I’d had it when you burst in and found me with Isabella, but I always could think on my feet. And you couldn’t believe a small man like me could put one over on a big man like you.”
“I couldn’t believe you’d sink this low,” I said.
“How does it feel?” he said. “To be alone and helpless, naked without your armour, among your worst enemies? How does it feel to know that all the things we did to Isabella Metcalf are nothing compared to what we’re going to do to you?”
I said nothing. Why give him the satisfaction? MacAlpine laughed in my face and walked down the main aisle to take his place on the stage, the guards hustling me along behind him. MacAlpine nodded to Alexandre Dusk, who moved aside to let MacAlpine take centre stage. The guards held me securely to one side, where everyone could get a good look at me. There was no booing or taunts; they looked at me with hot, greedy eyes. MacAlpine smiled out over the assembled Satanists, and then grinned happily at me.
“Yes,” he said. “I am the leader of the new satanist conspiracy. I put it all together, arranged the Great Sacrifice and led you poor old Droods around by the nose. You never saw this one coming, did you? Even when you found me tormenting poor Isabella, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You believed everything I told you, even though it must have been clear I was making it all up as I went along.”
He looked out over the auditorium, at his people hanging on his every word. “Let the Droods have Schloss Shreck! Let them waste their time wading through all the defences and booby traps we set in place! We don’t need this castle anymore. I’ve already given the orders to activate the influence machine, powered by dear Ammonia’s amazing brain. What was that, Eddie? Did you want to say something? No? Then shut up and listen. You’ll find this both interesting and informative.” He turned back to the audience. We’ll leave here through the teleport gates, taking the machine and its room with us, and then we’ll seal all the entrances to the Timeless Moment. Leave the Droods locked in here. What could be a better revenge? While out in the world we shall set the Great Sacrifice in motion and watch and laugh as the adult populations of the Earth slaughter their own children and damn themselves forever. And then we shall break down the doors of Hell, and our lord Satan shall rise up with all his fallen, and we shall be made kings of the Earth!
“We can always come back here when we feel the need for fresh meat to torment. Why should the Droods miss out on Hell on Earth?”
He broke off then, because I couldn’t keep the grin off my face any longer. The guards forced my arms up painfully behind my back, but I laughed at them, and at Philip MacAlpine, and all the sheeplike faces in the auditorium.
“Typical MacAlpine,” I said loudly. “Too busy boasting about the things you’re planning to do to concentrate on the job at hand. We’ve already found Ammonia Vom Acht and freed her from the machine, and smashed all the teleport gates. My family is coming here, and you’re not going anywhere. You’re trapped in here with us.”