We all managed a tactful silence, there.
“How typical of dear Grandma,” I said finally. “Still trying to run my life, even after her death. Still convinced she knows what’s best for me, and the family. Still trying to bribe or threaten me into doing what she wants . . . Yes. That settles it.”
I pushed the box away from me, back towards the Armourer. He looked at me steadily, kindly.
“Are you sure, Eddie?”
“I never wanted to be Patriarch again,” I said. “And nothing that’s happened here has changed my mind. I don’t want to be in charge, and I don’t care what’s in the box.”
“You’re not even curious?” said Maggie.
“No,” I said. “Could be a cat that’s alive and dead at the same time, for all I care.” I looked at the Armourer. “Is that all?”
“Yes,” said the Armourer. “There are a great many other clauses, but none that concern you directly.”
“Then there’s no reason for me to hang around any longer, is there?” I said. “So, if you’ll excuse me . . . Molly is waiting.”
I got up to leave, again. Everyone was staring at me, all of them shocked to some degree. Even the Librarian, in his own vague way. It was clear to me that none of them would have turned down the box if it had been offered to them, even if they would have used the power it gave them for quite different reasons. And equally clearly, they were all wondering why Martha hadn’t offered it to them . . .
“What should we do with the box?” said the Armourer.
“Disregarding all the obvious answers,” I said, “do your best to destroy it, Uncle Jack. And if you can’t, hide it away somewhere very secure, and never tell anyone what you did with it. Because no one in this family can be trusted with something that could give them undisputed control.”
“How can you say that about the family?” said the Sarjeant.
“Experience,” I said.
I nodded cheerfully to Maggie, but she just glared at me.
“By turning down that box, you’ve forced me to become Matriarch,” she said. “I’ll get you for this.”
“Lots of people say that,” I said.
I moved away from the table, and that was when the Sarjeant-at-Arms got up to face me. He moved carefully forward to block my way.
“Before you go, Edwin, there is one further matter.”
“Oh yes, Cedric?” I said. “And what might that be?”
“You have something that belongs to the family,” said the Sarjeant, calmly and coldly. “And we really can’t allow you to leave the Hall while you still have it in your possession.”
“Really not with you,” I said. “What are we talking about, exactly?”
“The Merlin Glass,” said the Armourer.
He met my gaze steadily when I looked back at him. William was off somewhere else again. Or perhaps pretending to be, so he wouldn’t have to get involved. Maggie just looked confused.
“Ethel?” I said. “You’ve been very quiet through all this.”
“None of my business,” said the voice from the rosy red glow. “This is human stuff. I don’t get involved.”
I turned my attention back to the Sarjeant. “What brought this on, Cedric?”
“New Matriarch, new rules,” he said. “Can’t have something as powerful as the Merlin Glass out of our hands while a new Matriarch is finding her feet. When the Armourer first gave you the Glass, it was never intended you should keep it for your own exclusive use . . . The Glass was a gift from Merlin to the Droods, and it belongs with the family.”
I looked at the Armourer again. “This wasn’t your idea, was it, Uncle Jack?”
“This was a Council decision,” the Armourer said carefully. “We all agreed. You can’t keep the Glass, Eddie.”
“Are you worried I might use it to bring down the Matriarch if I decide I disapprove?” I said.
“A wise man covers all the options,” said the Sarjeant.
“So we decided to ask for the Glass back, while we’re all together here,” said the Armourer.
“Ask?” I said.
“We’re being polite,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms. “For now.”
“You’re talking like you’ll never get another chance,” I said. “I will be back. We can discuss this then.”
“We know where you’re going,” said the Sarjeant. “You’re going to the Department of Uncanny to talk to the Regent of Shadows. To get answers out of him. We don’t care about that. Skin him alive, for all I care. But you can’t use one of the family’s most powerful weapons for your own private war. Give it up, Edwin. That is a Council order.”
“So much for being reasonable,” I said. “I did try . . . Look, I need the Glass, for now. You can have it back when I’m finished with it. I think, after all I’ve done for this family, I’m entitled to a little latitude.”
“That’s not how it works, Eddie,” said the Armourer. “You know that.”
“Don’t I just,” I said.
“You can’t be allowed to leave here with the Glass!” said the Sarjeant.
“Try to stop me, Cedric,” I said, smiling slowly. And he flinched, just a little.
The Armourer was immediately up on his feet, glaring at me. “Are you seriously prepared to defy the family, Eddie?”
“Of course,” I said. “It’s what I do best.”
Maggie was up on her feet too. “If I’m going to be Matriarch, I’m going to make decisions. They’re right, Eddie. You have to give up the Merlin Glass.”
“You don’t even know what it is,” I said.
“Doesn’t matter. It’s the principle of the thing!”
“Good for you!” I said. “That’s the trick; sound decisive, even when you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. You’ll make a fine new Matriarch. Just not right now.”
“No one member of the family can be considered more important, more powerful, than the Matriarch or her Council,” said Maggie.
And suddenly she sounded less like a gardener and a lot more like someone in charge.
“Except,” said the Librarian mildly, “Martha clearly thought Eddie was more important, or she wouldn’t have left him the box. Would she? Hmmm?”
Everyone looked at William, but he had nothing more to say. Maggie glared at me, and I glared right back at her.
“Well done,” I said. “Not even officially the Matriarch yet, and already you’ve learned the joys of abuse of power.”
“Why should you have the Glass, and no one else?” she said.
“Because I’ve proved I can be trusted not to abuse it,” I said. “I love my family. I really do. And everything it’s supposed to stand for. But it’s at times like this that I know for a fact . . . I wouldn’t trust most of you further than I could throw a wet camel.” I smiled widely at all of them. “Moments like this . . . are why I prefer to maintain a distance between me and Drood Hall. Good-bye.”
I walked straight at the Sarjeant-at-Arms, and he stepped back and out of the way at the very last moment. I left the Sanctity, and didn’t look back once.
• • •
The doors opened quietly before me, and closed firmly behind me. The two guards were still on duty. They stared straight ahead, refusing even to look at me. Which was probably just as well. I was in the mood to hit somebody, or something. I started down the corridor, and then stopped as I heard the double doors open behind me. I turned quickly and then relaxed, just a little, as the Armourer came hurrying out of the Sanctity. He waited for the doors to close, and then glowered at the two guards.
“Go for a walk.”
“But we were told . . .”
“Go!”
They both left, at speed, neither of them looking back. The Armourer looked at me severely.
“Eddie, there’s a limit to how many times you can walk out on the family and still hope to come back.”
“I keep leaving, and I keep hoping the family will take the hint,” I said. “But somehow, they always find a reason to call me back.”
“And if this is the last time?” said the Armourer.
“I’ll send you a postcard from wherever I end up.”
“What if you need something from us?”
“Then I think I’ve earned the right to just walk back in and ask for it,” I said. “You know I’ll never leave here for good, Uncle Jack. I can’t. Because despite everything I still believe in what the Droods are supposed to be. Shamans, to the tribe. Shepherds, to Humanity. And I suppose . . . there are a few people here I would miss. Like you, Uncle Jack. But I have to go now. I have to go talk to my grandfather, at the Department of Uncanny.”