“Warnings,” I said finally. “Made from those who came before us. Turn back, intruder, while you still can.”
“Except we can’t,” said Molly. “Not that we would, of course, but . . .”
“Yes,” I said. “It would be nice to have the option.”
“So we’re not the first people to try to break into the Winter Palace from Outside,” said Molly. “You think these people came here through the Gateway?”
“No way to ask them now,” I said. “They didn’t have the advantage of Drood armour, so here they are. Preserved, permanent scarecrows.”
“Except we don’t scare,” said Molly. “Still, I have to say, leaving them here, like this . . . That’s cold.”
“Yes,” I said. “It is. I don’t know who these people were, or why they came here, but they deserved better than this. I will make someone pay for this.”
“Of course you will, Eddie.”
Molly squeezed my linking hand, and we strode on between the two long rows of ice blocks. After a while I stared straight ahead, so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact. You can’t keep feeling sorry for people; it wears you out. And I was having a hard enough time feeling confident as it was. I hate missions where there are too many unknowns, too many variables, and this whole case was nothing but.
We left the ice blocks behind and moved on down the valley, slipping and sliding on ground polished like glass by the endless wind. The Winter Palace loomed up before us, growing larger and more intricate the closer we got. Dazzlingly huge, breathtakingly detailed. The biggest snowflake in the world, in the last winter of the world. I finally stopped, to look it over carefully. Molly was all for pressing on, impatient to get started, but we were still linked by our joined hands and I wasn’t going anywhere till I’d thought about it some more. Molly stood reluctantly beside me, bouncing up and down on the soles of her golden feet.
“I am not seeing any door, or opening, or entrance anywhere,” I said. “And since all the properly invited guests appear inside, it may be that there is no way in from out here.”
“I told you that!” said Molly. “I suppose . . . we could break in.”
“We’re trying to be sneaky, remember?”
“Why should there be any openings?” said Molly, in her most irritatingly reasonable tone of voice. “I mean, it’s a snowflake! Which are famous for not having holes. However, now most of my magics have returned, thanks to this marvellous armour of yours, I can sense the teleport stream the guests arrive through. I think I can tap into it, even from this distance . . . and get us inside. With a bit of luck.”
I looked at her. “How much luck?”
“Well . . . We would be jumping blind. I’m pretty sure I can arrange for us to materialise in an open space . . .”
“Hold it!” I said. “I’ve got a better idea! The Merlin Glass! That’s our way in!”
“Why didn’t you think of that before?” said Molly. “We could have used it back at the Gateway, and avoided this bloody walk!”
“I got distracted,” I said.
“Ah,” said Molly. “Of course you did.”
I eased my free hand through my armoured side, and reached for the hand mirror, but the damned thing avoided my grasp again, refusing to cooperate. Presumably because it didn’t want to be exposed to the cold of Ultima Thule. I could understand that. I chased the Merlin Glass around my pocket for a while, just on general principles, and then gave up. I removed my empty hand, and Molly shook her head sadly.
“Not again . . .”
“Once this increasingly infuriating mission is over,” I said, “I am going to have a very firm talk with the Merlin Glass. In fact, once everything’s been sorted out, and I have reestablished communications with my family . . . I think I’ll take the Glass down to the Armoury and let the lab assistants play with it. That should frighten it.”
“Shall I try my teleport spell now?” Molly said sweetly.
“How accurate can you be, working blind?” I said. “We don’t want to materialise inside the furniture. Something like that can be very hard to explain.”
“Trust me,” said Molly. “That hardly ever happens. I have an instinct for these things. If I tap into the existing teleport stream and follow that, we should be perfectly safe.”
“Should?”
“Look, do you want the truth, or a comforting lie?”
“Guess.”
“Everything’s going to be fine!” said Molly.
We appeared inside a very small room. So small we were standing face-to-face, surrounded by all kinds of objects pressing in on us.
“We’re inside a broom closet, aren’t we?” I said.
“It was the best I could do!” said Molly. “It was the only enclosed space next to the teleport station.”
“It’s a broom closet!”
“I know! It was either this or the toilets!”
I scrabbled along the wall with my free hand, found the light switch, and turned it on. Flat yellow light from a bare hanging bulb illuminated a space just big enough to contain the two of us and assorted cleaning products. I suppose even a Winter Palace needs janitorial staff. I armoured down, and Molly appeared before me. She smiled at me brightly, gave my hand one last squeeze, and reached for the door. I stopped her quickly.
“Hold it,” I said. “Better check out who’s outside first. Might look a bit odd for the two of us to just walk out of a broom closet.”
“Not at the Lady Faire’s Ball,” said Molly. “I’ll bet there are all kinds of furtive assignations going on here, in all sorts of places.”
“I’ll go first,” I said. “Remember, no magics.”
“Bet I get to the Lazarus Stone before you do,” said Molly.
“Yell if you do,” I said. “And then I’ll race you to the teleport station.”
“What if the station’s locked down?” said Molly. “I got us in here, but there’s no guarantee I can get us back to the real world.”
“One problem at a time,” I said.
I squeezed past her, eased open the broom closet door, and peered cautiously through the gap. All kinds of people were hurrying past, but they all seemed intent on their own business, and didn’t even glance at the broom closet. And after all, why should they? I looked back at Molly.
“Okay, I am out of here. Give me a minute, and then it’s your turn. Try not to kill anyone you don’t absolutely have to, there’s a dear.”
“Teach your grandmother to suck . . .”
I slipped out into the corridor and closed the door firmly behind me.
• • •
The interior of the Winter Palace could have been any first-class, extremely expensive and very elite hotel, anywhere in the world. Lots of wide-open space, richly polished wood, gleaming marble, and deep-pile carpeting. Every conceivable luxury out on display. And well-dressed, very important people hurrying back and forth on their own very important business. No windows anywhere, though. It was comfortably warm, for which I was very grateful. I’d had more than enough of the cold of Ultima Thule. I could feel the last of the bitter chill seeping out of my bones, and out of my soul, as I strode quickly through the wide corridors of the Winter Palace.
I acted as though I belonged there, as though I had every right to be there, so everyone just assumed I did. It helped that as a field agent, I had been trained to have one of those faces that everyone thinks they half recognise. Just a familiar kind of chap, the kind you see every day, everywhere. I smiled and nodded easily to everyone I passed, and they nodded and smiled easily back. Because that was what you did in places like this. Where everyone was bound to be someone, and you were bound to have met them somewhere before . . . It never occurred to any of them that I might be an outsider, or an intruder, because they knew the only way to get in was through the teleport station. And for that, you needed an invitation.