“Why haven’t we?” I said. “I visited the place once, and I loathed everything about it.”
“The Nightside is allowed to maintain its unsavoury existence because it is necessary,” the Armourer said firmly. “It serves a purpose.”
I waited for a while, but he had nothing else to say.
“That’s it?” I said.
“That’s enough,” said the Armourer. “Now, moving on . . . These people, inside the family, went on to form the Zero Tolerance faction, and Manifest Destiny. And I don’t need to remind you how close they came to subverting and taking over the whole damned family. They weren’t above breaking mere rules in the name of a greater cause. They wanted to use the Lazarus Stone to bring back some of our greatest and most successful Droods, from out of the Past. Create an army of heroes and warriors and assassins, to tip the balance in the ongoing war between the Droods and all our many enemies.
“They wanted to win the war forever. No more compromise, no more agreements; they were going to put an end to the war by killing everyone on the other side. And anyone who sided with them. And anyone who just got in the way. The Droods would rule, and to hell with the collateral damage . . .” The Armourer laughed harshly. “Like that was a new idea. If it had really been that simple, the family would have done it long ago. And these people didn’t care about all the changes such disturbances in Time would make to History, because they didn’t like where History had brought them anyway. I have to say, Eddie, I’m not actually convinced any of this is actually possible . . .”
“It could be,” I said. “I have seen History rewritten . . .”
I remembered the Red King, and the Sceneshifters. I was the only person still living who could, because I was there when the severed head of the Red King, preserved and controlled against his wishes, finally woke from his dreaming. The Sceneshifters had been this really secret group who moved things around in the background when people weren’t looking. Rewriting History in small telling ways, to achieve their own ends. But small changes accumulate, and the Sceneshifters weren’t always in control of what happened. Apparently, there used to be pyramids in Scotland. A major tourist attraction. But no one remembers them any more.
The Droods knew about the Sceneshifters, but didn’t believe they were important enough or powerful enough to worry about. I met the Sceneshifters when I was on the run from my family, and I was so appalled at what they were up to that I put a bullet through the Red King’s severed head. He woke up from his long dreaming and he woke up mad, and made the Sceneshifters never happened. I was lucky to get out of there alive. And still real. A cautionary tale . . .
The Armourer waited until he realised I had nothing more to say on the subject, and then he continued with his story.
“You youngsters, you think you invented secrets. Now, this all goes back to when your grandfather Arthur, the Regent, was doing dirty work for the family. They used my father cruelly, and there was nothing I could do . . .”
I leaned forward. I couldn’t help myself. “Do you know who in the family gave the Regent his orders, and chose his targets for him?”
“Are you asking this for yourself?” said the Armourer. “Or for Molly?”
“Does it matter?” I said.
“I suppose not . . . It was mostly the people who went on to create Zero Tolerance. And Mother, of course, as Matriarch, because my father never could say no to her. And make it stick. But as to who ordered the Regent to kill Molly’s parents . . . I couldn’t tell you. I was out of the loop in those days, mostly by my own choice. I could see which way the wind was blowing, and I didn’t want any part in it. I just kept myself busy in the Armoury and kept my head down. Eddie . . . it could have been any of a dozen people, most of whom are dead now anyway. Does it really matter? The family gave the order, so the family must take responsibility.”
The Armourer paused, and looked at me thoughtfully. “And Molly’s parents did have it coming, Eddie. Your Molly made quite a name for herself, back in the day, as a supernatural terrorist . . . But all of that was nothing compared to some of the things her parents did, in the name of the White Horse Faction. They put the terror in terrorism . . . They had to be stopped.”
“Are you going to tell Molly that, or should I?” I said.
“Probably best if nobody does,” said the Armourer. “Better for all concerned . . . Anyway, when your grandfather finally realised he was just being used, and walked away from his family for the second time, he took a number of useful things with him. Partly to punish the family, partly to help fund his new organisation. And one of the things he took . . . was the Lazarus Stone. Because he didn’t trust what the Zero Tolerance people might do with it.
“There was a hell of a row in the family, afterwards, when they discovered the Stone was gone. But by the time they’d worked out who’d taken it, your grandfather had already made himself into the Regent of Shadows, a man of influence and power in his own right. And the Matriarch wasn’t ready to go to war with him over a few missing items. The Zero Tolerance people couldn’t explain how important the Stone was without revealing their own intentions . . . And then, of course, a lot of things happened, which you know very well because you were there for most of them, and the Lazarus Stone . . . was forgotten. I knew Father had it, because I helped him steal it. You must understand, Eddie-the Regent didn’t take the Stone because he wanted to use it; he just didn’t want anyone else to use it.”
I looked at him steadily. We’d finally got to the point I’d been dreading.
“You do know what’s happened, Uncle Jack . . . at the Department of Uncanny?”
“Of course I know,” he said. “All hell’s breaking loose up in the War Room, though no one’s decided what to do yet. Yes, Eddie, I know. They told me as soon as the news came in. My father is dead. Finally dead for real, lost to us all. It’s been a hard few years for me, Eddie. First I lost my brother James, and then my mother, the Matriarch, and now my father. And my son, Timothy, of course, but then . . . he was lost to me years ago. Still, the family endures. The family goes on. That’s what they teach us, and it is a comfort, I suppose.” He looked at me sharply. “You were there, Eddie. How were they able to kill the Regent? He had Kayleigh’s Eye! I gave it to him before he left, to keep him safe!”
“Somebody took it from him,” I said. “Ripped it right out of his chest. How is that even possible, Uncle Jack?”
“I don’t know,” said the Armourer. “Nothing magical or high tech could even touch it . . . Brute force, maybe. Do you know who, or what, was able to destroy the whole Department of Uncanny?”
“No,” I said. “It was all over by the time Molly and I got there. No evidence left anywhere, to point a finger.”
“The family thinks you did it.”
“What?”
I started to get up, but the Armourer gestured sharply for me to sit down again.
“I don’t believe a word of it,” he said. “And neither will they, once they’ve calmed down a bit. But apparently you and Molly were seen fleeing the scene after the massacre. And it’s not just the family. The word is out everywhere that you’re responsible. That Molly took her revenge on the Regent for the killing of her parents, and the two of you wiped out everyone else when they tried to stop you.”
“That’s not what happened!” I said.
“I know,” said the Armourer. “I wasn’t born yesterday! But mostly, everyone else wants your blood for this. Pretty much every organisation in our line of work is on the lookout for you two.” The Armourer scowled briefly. “This is all so well organised, you’d think someone arranged it . . . I can turn the family around, but it’s going to take time. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather drop this mission of yours, just for now, so you can beg the family’s forgiveness and accept their protection? For Molly’s sake, as well as yours?”