Simon Green - Property of a Lady Faire

“Hang on,” said Molly. “Laurence Drood is over two hundred years old?”

“Well over,” I said. “And he’s spent nearly all of it locked away, down here, in solitary confinement. So if he wasn’t crazy when they locked him in . . .”

“Your family,” said Molly, shaking her head.

“Trust me,” I said. “I know.”

I started forward, into the gloom of the long corridor, and the Merlin Glass retreated smoothly before me, hovering in mid-air. It wasn’t just a Door any longer; its opening now showed me all the hidden secrets of the corridor ahead. What was really there. All the carefully concealed booby-traps and hidden protections. I wouldn’t have seen any of them without using my armoured mask, and I didn’t dare armour up down here. No wonder the Glass insisted on preceding me. But how did it know . . . ?

The Glass progressed down the corridor, quietly defusing booby-traps and shutting down protections. Molly leaned in close again.

“How is it doing that?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” I said. “It’s never done this before. I certainly never programmed it to do anything like this.”

“Maybe the Armourer . . .”

“My uncle Jack would never make anything that might prove more powerful than the family’s defences,” I said.

“When we’re finished with this,” said Molly, “you need to let me take that thing apart. See what’s going on inside the Glass.”

“Oh no you don’t,” I said, very firmly. “Merlin Satanspawn made that Glass. You really think he didn’t set some nasty surprises in place for anyone dumb enough to try to tamper with his work? You want to test your magics against possibly the greatest sorcerer of all time?”

“Well, if you’re going to put it like that . . .”

“I am putting it like that.”

Molly sniffed loudly. “Why isn’t the Glass shutting everything down, instead of just messing about, defusing and bypassing them one at a time?”

“Because,” I said patiently, “shutting down all the protections at once would set off all kinds of alarms. That’s why I haven’t armoured up. And why you mustn’t use your magical shields. If my family even suspected someone was trying to talk to the Drood in Cell 13, they’d start fumigating this corridor with flame-throwers and explosives, and then escalate.”

“I could cope with that,” said Molly. “I can take anything your family can come up with.”

“Really?” I said. “Generations of Drood Armourers have put a lot of thought into keeping Laurence Drood safe, and isolated. Would you go up against my uncle Jack’s ingenuity?”

“Well, if you’re going to put it like that . . .”

The Merlin Glass stopped abruptly, so we did too. Through the opening I could see an overlay on reality, a clear vision on top of what I was supposed to see. Trap-doors had been cunningly set among the floor’s flag-stones, over terrifyingly long drops. Robot gun emplacements lay in wait behind apparently innocent stone walls. Shaped curses and floating hexes had been salted like mines the whole length of the corridor, floating unseen on the still air. And right ahead of us, two dimensional doors flickered in and out of reality, too quickly for the human mind to process. The Merlin Glass slowed the flickering right down, so I could see what lay behind the doors. I heard Molly gasp quietly beside me, and she clutched at my arm.

“Are those . . .”

“Yes,” I said. “Drood scarecrows.”

As one of my family’s more infamous lines of defence, we keep scarecrows scattered across the grounds to deal with the more persistent and dangerous intruders. Savagely, and brutally. We make our scarecrows out of the dead bodies of our most hated enemies. Just because we can. I edged closer, to get a better look at them. Their faces were taut as parchment, with tufts of straw protruding from ears and mouths, but their eyes were still alive, and aware. Eternally suffering, endlessly hating, bound by unbreakable pacts to defend Drood Hall against all enemies. For as long as they lasted. If you listen in on the right supernatural frequencies, you can hear them screaming.

“Do you know them?” Molly said quietly. “Do you recognise either of them?”

“The clothes are unfamiliar,” I said carefully. “I only know our most recent enemies, and there’s no telling how long those two have been down here.”

We both jumped despite ourselves, as the scarecrows stirred slowly, becoming aware that someone could see them. And then they fell still again, and the dimensional doors disappeared as the Merlin Glass put all the defences to sleep, one at a time. Until the corridor seen through the opening looked exactly like the one I could see with my own eyes.

“Did you know those . . . things were down here?” said Molly.

“No,” I said. “I’m not sure anyone does, any more. Even the highest parts of my family prefer not to know what goes on down here.”

“Is it safe for us to move on?”

“Only one way to find out . . .”

I moved slowly forward, Molly still clinging to my arm, and the Merlin Glass retreated steadily ahead of us. None of the booby-traps activated, and we walked right through the floating mines, unaffected. I was so tense from anticipation that all my muscles ached fiercely. The corridor stretched away ahead of us, as we moved from light into shadow and out again.

“Your family really doesn’t want anyone talking to this guy,” said Molly after a while. “Are there any human guards down here? Anywhere?”

“No,” I said. “Never have been. Apparently just continued proximity to Laurence Drood can be enough to mess with people’s minds.”

Molly glared at me. “Liking this plan of yours less and less all the time, Eddie.”

“We should be safe enough,” I said, trying hard to sound calm and reassuring. “As long as we don’t stick around too long.”

“How long is too long?”

“Good question. How the hell should I know? I never thought I’d ever have to talk to the man.”

“Isn’t there anyone else we could talk to?” said Molly.

“I’m doing this for my parents,” I said steadily. “Wouldn’t you have done something like this for your parents?”

“My parents are dead,” said Molly.

We walked on in silence, for a while, following the Merlin Glass. Either there weren’t any more protections or hidden surprises left, or the Glass just wasn’t bothering to show them any more.

“Eddie,” said Molly, after a while, “if Laurence is the Drood in Cell 13, what about the other twelve cells? Are there other secret prisoners down here? Somewhere?”

“Not as far as I know,” I said. “I think it’s more like it took twelve attempts to produce a cell strong enough to hold Laurence Drood.”

“I thought you said he asked to be locked away?”

“He’s been down here a very long time,” I said. “And as I understand it, he has been known to change his mind, on occasion.”

“Terrific,” said Molly. “What makes you think he’s going to be in any mood to help us? Or even answer your questions?”

“Because there’s one thing all the stories agree on,” I said. “Laurence Drood just lives for the chance to tell people things that will seriously mess with their head.”

“Terrific,” said Molly. “You can do all the talking.”

• • •

We came at last to what looked like a perfectly ordinary wooden door, set flush into a bare stone wall. A simple wooden slab, with no door handle, no bell or knocker, not even any obvious hinges. The Merlin Glass came to a sudden halt, on the far side of the door. Molly and I stood side by side and studied the wooden door carefully, from what we hoped was a safe distance.

“That’s it?” said Molly. “This is the infamous Cell 13? Doesn’t look very secure.”