“Of course we don’t need the money,” said Molly, her voice maddeningly calm and reasonable. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“No, it isn’t,” I said. “With you, it’s never the principle of the thing. It’s always all about the money!”
“So you do think she’s left you something!”
“I don’t know,” I said. “The Armourer just said I was . . . mentioned in the will. And knowing Grandmother, almost certainly not in a good way.”
Molly looked at me thoughtfully. “You know, most people have two sets of grandparents. I know the Regent, your grandfather Arthur, was Martha’s first husband. Before she kicked him out of the family, and married Alistair . . . and that Emily was her daughter by that first marriage, who married your father, Charles . . . Or Diana and Patrick as they now like to be known . . . God, your family’s complicated, Eddie. But where are your father’s parents? What about his family?”
“Good question,” I said. “I have no idea. The Droods never like to talk about outside relatives. Inside the Hall, it’s only Droods who matter. Makes it easier to instill family loyalty and duty. I grew up thinking both my parents were dead, and my family never wanted to talk about either of them. When I finally got to meet my parents, there just wasn’t time to stop and talk . . . And since they’ve gone missing again . . .”
“Complicated,” said Molly. “Very complicated.”
“It is something I think about,” I said. “I like to believe that there’s another family, out there in the world somewhere. People I could go to if I ever did turn my back on the Droods.”
“Are you thinking of leaving, Eddie?” asked Molly, not quite as casually as I think she intended. “I mean, you know I’m all in favour of that, but working for the Department of Uncanny didn’t really work out. Did it?”
“No,” I said. “The Regent lied to me almost as much as the Droods did. But I would like to have the option to leave; if only I knew for sure there was somewhere else for me to go . . .”
Molly smiled at me brilliantly and slipped a companionable arm through mine, and I knew I was forgiven. For the moment.
“Come on,” she said briskly. “Let’s do this. Get it done, and over with, so we can concentrate on the things that really matter. I wonder how much your grandmother’s left you . . .”
“I’m really not going to like it when next month’s bills come in, am I?” I said.
“All I ever inherited from my family were two sisters who always irritated the crap out of me,” said Molly.
“You never talk much about your family,” I said.
“Bunch of deadbeats and hangers-on,” she said. “I’d divorce the lot of them if I could just find a lawyer who wasn’t afraid of them.”
• • •
We strode briskly across the lawn, heading for Drood Hall. I could hear one of the underground robot gun emplacements, directly under our feet, stirring restlessly as we passed over it. I was safe enough, as a Drood, but the robot sensors didn’t approve of Molly. The robot gun would probably have liked to come up out of the ground to take a good look at her, but it was just sentient enough to be very wary of her. Even the peacocks backed away, to give her plenty of room. Which made me think . . . and take a good look around. The huge grassy lawns stretched off into the distance, open and empty. Not a Drood to be seen anywhere-which was just a bit odd, on such a lovely summer’s afternoon. Where was everyone? Which, of course, led me on to another thought.
“Molly,” I said carefully, “where are your sisters right now?”
“No need to look over your shoulder, sweetie,” said Molly, smiling. “I would warn you if there was any danger of them dropping in. If only so that you could keep up with me once I started running. No, the last I heard, Isabella had bullied her way onto an archaeological dig somewhere in darkest Peru, in search of the Great Demon Bear. And Louisa is currently scuba-diving among the sunken remains of the city of Lyonesse, somewhere off the Cornwall coast.”
“At least she won’t be bothering anyone there,” I said.
Molly laughed briefly. “You’ve never been to Lyonesse, have you?”
And then we both looked up sharply as a flying saucer went tumbling through the sky overhead. Just a small one, not much bigger than a London bus, covered with all kinds of crackling lights. It shot this way and that, turned rapidly end over end, circled the Hall twice, and then dived down for a not particularly dangerous crash landing on one of the empty arrival pads on the Hall roof. Dazzling colours blew off in every direction, exploding in the sky like so many silent fireworks. Two teenage girls on winged unicorns quickly appeared on the scene, and hovered overhead while spraying the scene with anti-radiation foam, from long nozzles attached to sturdy packs on the unicorns’ sides. Nobody emerged from the crashed flying saucer. Probably too embarrassed.
“A flying saucer?” said Molly. “Some of your lot, or just Visitors?”
“It’s questions like that,” I said, moving on, “that remind me why I prefer to stay away . . .”
The front door loomed up before us-the main entrance to Drood Hall, and everything it contained. I took a deep breath, and braced myself.
“Look,” I said to Molly, “I have to go in and see my family. You don’t. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back and wait in your nice safe private forest, until all the shouting and bad temper has subsided?”
“Nonsense!” Molly said immediately. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I promise I’ll stand at the back, and be very quiet, and not attack anyone unless I feel I absolutely have to. Come on-a chance to watch your family lose their temper with each other, like the arrogant, entitled, elitist scum they are? I never miss a chance to feel superior . . . Besides, you really think I’d let you walk into the lions’ den on your own? It’s my job to watch your back, against friends and enemies and family.” She squeezed my arm against her side possessively. “What do you think the previous Matriarch of all the Droods has left you in her will, Eddie?”
“Nothing I’d want, knowing her,” I said.
“Maybe she’s appointed you her official successor and made you head of the whole Drood family!”
“Only if she was really mad at me . . .”
• • •
I kicked the main door in, and Molly and I strode into Drood Hall like we were thinking of repossessing the place. I was immediately surprised to discover that there was no one there to meet us. Or to try to stop us from entering. It’s usually one or the other. The Sarjeant-at-Arms was nearly always waiting, to say something sardonic and offensive, as though he felt it was his duty to make sure I knew I was not at all welcome. Like I needed him to tell me that. At the very least, the Sarjeant usually preferred to escort me through the Hall, to make sure I didn’t go anywhere the family didn’t want me going. It’s not like he could actually stop me doing any damned thing I felt like, including stuffing some of the family silver in a big bag marked Swag and making off with it, but we both usually went along. For the good of the family.
But it’s when there’s no one around that I know for sure something’s going on. Something I’m really not going to approve of.
First rule of an agent: Never let them see they’ve got you worried. I stuck my nose in the air and strode through the shadowy vestibule, and on into the main hallway, with Molly still hanging determinedly onto my arm. Light streamed in through dozens of long, narrow stained-glass windows, shimmering spotlights stabbing through the gloom, filling the long corridor with all the colours of the rainbow. Many of the stained-glass scenes depicted significant moments in my family’s long history, all the heroes and legends of Drood times. The secret history of the world. After that, it was row upon row of paintings and portraits, showing off honoured family members. Most of them looking dour or constipated, with not a single smile to be seen among the lot of them. The fashions changed as the centuries passed, but they all did their best to look like secret masters of the world.