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And then we both looked round sharply. A lot of people outside the Armoury were heading our way.

“Your assistants must have figured out the dragon was just an illusion,” I said. “I was hoping we’d have more time . . . I’d better get out of here.”

“I can’t help you, Eddie,” said the Armourer, as we both rose to our feet. “Can’t even give you any new toys for your mission.”

“Where did you send the dragon?” I said. “Molly went to join it.”

“Just out into the grounds,” said the Armourer. “Give my best to the Lady Faire when you find her. See if she remembers me. Or James.”

I opened up the Merlin Glass, and was gone.

CHAPTER SIX

False Knight on the Road

I’d told the Merlin Glass to take me straight to Molly, and I can’t say I was completely surprised when I stepped through the Glass into an area of almost entirely devastated Drood grounds. A great circle of scorched and blackened grass stood before a copse of trees, all of which were on fire. The heat from the flames was enough to stop me in my tracks, while a thick cloud of black smoke boiled up into the sky from what had been a favoured picnicking spot for young Droods. All around the scorched grass, the wide-open lawn was pockmarked with impact craters, heavy-duty bullet holes, and signs of extensive use of high explosives. All the usual local wildlife was conspicuous by its absence. Except for the wild witch herself, Molly Metcalf, standing quietly and demurely to one side. She smiled innocently at me.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” I growled.

“Wasn’t my fault!” she said immediately. “This was all done by the lab assistants doing their level best to take out a dragon that wasn’t really there, with enough firepower to win a war. They can be very enthusiastic, those lab assistants. Especially when they’ve got all kinds of guns and a really big target.”

“Why didn’t you just drop the illusion, once you were safely out of the Armoury?” I said.

She shrugged. “I wanted to buy you some time. And the lab assistants were having so much fun . . .”

I shook my head slowly. “Capability Maggie is not going to be pleased.”

“You made that name up!” said Molly.

“I wish,” I said. “She’s in charge of looking after the Drood grounds. Or at least she was; she’s just been made the new Matriarch of all the Droods.”

“All right,” said Molly. “Now your family has another Matriarch I’m not going to listen to.”

“Could you at least put out the trees?” I said. “As a sign of goodwill, and a personal favour to me?”

“Oh well,” said Molly. “If you’re asking nicely . . .”

She glared at the burning copse, and all the flames snapped off in a moment, revealing the dead, spiky remains of half-consumed trees. The copse now looked, if anything, rather worse. Molly saw the look on my face, and heaved her best martyred sigh. She gestured broadly with one hand, and all the charred bark jumped off the trees, falling to the ground like so much soot, revealing fresh new growth underneath. The elm trees jerked and swayed in an unfelt breeze, twisting and stretching themselves back to full size again. New leaves flourished everywhere.

The huge circle of scorched grass jumped into the air, and by the time it had reseated itself in the earth, everything was a vibrant shade of green again. The blast holes and exploded craters healed in a moment, with nothing left to show they had ever been there. And a whole bunch of new flowers burst up out of the earth, like so many Technicolor exclamation points.

The last few vestiges of black smoke drifted away on the breeze. Birds started singing again.

“You see?” said Molly. “I’m not just here for the bad things in life.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sure that will go a long way towards helping with your current status in my family.”

She looked at me. “My current status? I thought this was all about you?”

“Unfortunately, as it turns out, not,” I said. “They’ve put you back on the supernatural terrorist list.”

Molly smirked, actually flattered. “Been a long time since I thought of myself as that. Happy days . . . All right, what am I supposed to have done now? And it had better be something particularly stylish and impressive, or I’ll walk right back in there and demand to know why they thought it was me. I mean, I have my standards.”

“We’re supposed to have murdered everyone at the Department of Uncanny,” I said. “Including my grandfather, the Regent of Shadows.”

Molly stared at me for a long moment. “Who the hell thinks that? I have only ever killed people who needed killing! Everyone knows that.”

“Pretty much everyone in our line of work believes we’re guilty,” I said. “Very definitely including my family. So I think we should get the hell out of Dodge. Right now.”

“Fine by me,” Molly said immediately. “You should never come home, Eddie. This place has always been bad for you. Let’s go back to my forest. No one can track us there, and we can talk freely without fear of anyone listening in.”

I looked back at the Merlin Glass, still floating on the air in full Door mode. The opening was full of quietly buzzing static, as it waited for new instructions. I looked at it for a long moment, before subvocalising the coordinates for Molly’s wild woods. I wasn’t entirely confident about trusting Molly to the Glass, after everything the Armourer had said, but it didn’t seem I had much of a choice. The Glass was the only real option I had for staying ahead of my enemies. My many enemies. I could have asked Molly to teleport us, but I didn’t like to. That kind of spell was a major drain on her magical reserves, and I was pretty sure we were going to need those in the not-too-distant future. So I waited for the woods to appear on the other side of the Glass, and then strode quickly through, with Molly right behind me.

• • •

It was good to be back in the wild woods again. The moment I stood among the huge and ancient trees, I felt half my cares just slip away, like a weight I no longer needed to carry. I stood a little taller, and breathed more easily. Tall and vast and heavy with foliage, the great trees spread away in all directions, as far as the eye could see . . . and farther. The primordial forest, of Olde Englande. From when life was new and free, and we all lived in the woods because there was nowhere else.

The air was heavy with rich and pungent scents, of earth and grass, leaves and flowers and other living things. A low wind gusted through the trees, carrying the songs of all sorts of birds, only some of which I recognised. Creatures large and small moved in the shadows among the trees, going about their business, entirely unconcerned with human visitors but preferring to keep their distance nonetheless. Just as well. They usually made rude remarks when they saw it was me. The forest wildlife was very protective when it came to Molly.

The Merlin Glass quickly shrank back down to hand-mirror size the moment Molly and I had passed through. As though it was limited by the old magics working in the wild woods. Or perhaps it just wanted to be put away and not thought about for a while. Until it was needed again. Looking back, it surprised me how quickly I’d become . . . not dependent upon the Glass, but certainly used to it. I don’t normally like relying on devices, even the Armourer’s ingenious little toys. Better to depend on your wits in the field; they’re less likely to let you down at a critical juncture. But the Glass was just so useful . . . I should have distrusted it long before this. Unless it was somehow influencing me. I tucked the hand mirror away in my pocket. It felt like storing a live grenade . . . that was just waiting for the right moment to go off.

Molly slipped her arm through mine and we strolled along together, through the tall trees. There were no open paths, as such, but Molly always knew which way to go, and the heavy vegetation seemed to just lean back out of the way, to let her pass. The trees’ branches bent ponderously together overhead, forming a thick, dark canopy, through which golden shafts of sunlight dropped down like shimmering spotlights. Birdsong rose up on either side of us, close and sweet and tuneful. A breeze caressed my face, filling my head with restful scents and a pleasant sense of languor. I could feel the day-long tension seeping slowly out of my muscles. It occurred to me then that it was always summer here in the wild woods, no matter what time or season it might be anywhere else in the world. Whenever Molly brought me here, it was always summer.