It wasn’t much to look at. Just a long stick of ironwood deeply carved with prehuman symbols. An ancient weapon, older than Torc Cutter, older than family history. Older than the family, probably. We have no idea who created it, or why. Perhaps they used it, and that’s why there’s no record of them anywhere. The Armourer finally reached out with a steady hand, and took the stick down. He grimaced, as though just the touch of it was disturbing to him. He hefted it in his hand once, and then turned abruptly and gave it to me. I accepted it gingerly. It felt…heavy, weighed down with spiritual weight rather than physical. A burden to the body and to the soul.
Because of what it was, and what it could do.
"But…it’s just a stick," said Molly. She’d sneaked forward to join us again. "Is that it? I mean, is that all of it? Does it change into something else if you strike it on the ground? Or do you just plan to beat people over the head with it?"
"This is Oath Breaker," I said. My mouth was very dry, even while my hands were sweating. "It undoes all agreements, all bonds. Right down to the atomic level, if necessary."
"All right," said Molly. "Now you’re scaring me."
"Good," I said. "Because it scares the crap out of me. Armourer, give Molly Torc Cutter. Just in case."
"Go to the library," said the Armourer. "And learn what you need to know. I’ll keep an eye on Alexandra. But don’t take too long, Eddie. Those alarms and excursions you set off won’t fool people for long."
"I know, Uncle Jack."
"The family…isn’t what it was, Eddie. Part of me…wishes I could go with you when you leave. But someone has to stay and fight for the soul of the family. For the sake of the Droods, and the world."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Getting to the Heart of the Matter
"Uh-oh," said Molly as we reentered the labs.
I looked at her. "This isn’t going to be good news, is it?"
"The dragon charm just reappeared on my bracelet.
Which means someone in your family finally rubbed two brain cells together, realised a dragon that big couldn’t possibly be real, and worked a simple dispersion spell on it. My little diversion is now officially at an end."
"They’ll all head straight back into the Hall," I said, frowning. "To find out just what the dragon was diverting them from. So any minute now the whole place will be swarming with really pissed-off Droods looking for someone to take it out on…Time we were going, Molly. It was good to see you again, Uncle Jack."
"How far is it to the library?" said Molly, practical as always.
"Too far," said the Armourer. "You’re not even in the right wing."
"No problem," said Molly. "I’ll just call up a spatial portal, take us right there."
"No, you won’t," the Armourer said flatly. "The Hall’s inner defences don’t permit teleports, magical or scientific, for security reasons. Even I couldn’t produce anything powerful enough to break through the Hall’s defences." He broke off and scowled thoughtfully. "Not unless I can persuade the council to fund my black hole research after all…"
"If we could please stick to the subject," I said.
"There must be some way we can get to the library without being spotted," said Molly. "How about an illusion spell? I could whip up something simple, make us look like someone else. Or an aversion spelclass="underline" make everyone look everywhere except at us."
"Wouldn’t work," I said, "Our torcs alerts us to that kind of spell automatically. They’d just fire up their Sight and look right through them."
"When in doubt, keep it simple," said the Armourer just a little smugly. He produced two battered old lab coats from a nearby locker and thrust them at us. "Put these on. Anyone you meet will look at the coats, not your faces. The family’s used to my lab assistants turning up everywhere and getting under their feet. Just keep your heads down and keep moving, and you’ll be fine. Damn, I’m good…"
Molly and I slipped the lab coats on. They were both covered with an assortment of quite appalling stains, not to mention rips, cuts, and, in my case, one really serious-looking bite mark. Molly’s came right down to her ankles, but I had enough sense not to smile.
"My coat smells funny," she said, glaring at me mutinously.
"Be grateful," I said. "Mine smells downright disgusting."
I turned to the Armourer, and we shook hands just a bit awkwardly. It wasn’t something we did, as a rule. But we both knew we might not get a chance to do it again.
"Good-bye, Eddie," the Armourer said, meeting my gaze squarely. "I wish…there was more I could do for you."
"You’ve already done far more than I had any right to expect," I said.
"Good-bye, Uncle Jack."
He smiled at Molly and shook her hand too. "I’m glad Eddie’s taste in women finally improved. It was a pleasure to meet you, Molly. Now get out there and give them all hell."
"Damn right," said Molly.
Molly and I left the Armoury and carefully shut the blast-proof doors behind us. No point in advertising that the Armoury had been left open to casual visitors. I couldn’t allow the Armourer to come to harm for helping me. I could already hear my family coursing through the outer sections of the Hall, searching for intruders. They were drawing steadily closer, shouting instructions and findings and comments back and forth in loud and excited voices. It sounded like the whole damned family had been mobilised. The Matriarch wasn’t taking any chances. The lab coats would get us past a few people, but not crowds like these…All it would take was a moment of recognition, one raised voice…
Fortunately, there was another option. Just not a very nice one.
"Back when I was a kid," I said conversationally to Molly as we hurried down an empty corridor, "I worked out various ways of getting around the Hall without being seen. Because if you got caught in places where you weren’t supposed to be, you got punished. Often severely punished. But luckily the Hall is very old, and down the years certain very useful hidden doors and secret passages became lost, forgotten, displaced. And because I did a lot of reading in the library, especially in sections I wasn’t supposed to have access to, I was able to turn up certain old books describing the exact locations of these very useful shortcuts.
"There are doors that can take you from one room to another, from one wing to another, without having to cross the intervening space. There are narrow passages within thick, hollow walls that used to be part of the old central heating and ventilation processes. There’s a trapdoor in the basement that opens out into the attic and some rooms that are only there on certain dates. I must have used them all, at one time or another, in my never-ending quest to discover things I wasn’t supposed to know about."
"Didn’t your family ever suspect?" said Molly.
"Oh, sure. Finding these old passages is a sort of rite of passage for young Droods; tacitly permitted, if not actually encouraged. The family likes to see initiative in its children. As long as they follow the accepted rules and traditions. But I found some very odd ways that no one else even dreamed existed, and I never told anyone. I needed something that was mine, back then, and not the family’s."
"Am I to take it that you know a shortcut to the library?" said Molly.
"Yes. There’s an opening into a crawl space within the wall not far from here."
"Then why didn’t you say so before?"
"Well," I said.
"There’s bad news, isn’t there? Somehow I just know there’s bad news."
"It’s dangerous," I said.