Simon Green - Property of a Lady Faire

“What?” I said. “Why?”

Laurence leaned in close to the bars, and slipped me a sly wink. “Ask your uncle Jack! And do it quickly, oh yes; accessing me sets off all kinds of silent alarms, up above. And you can be sure they’ll all come running to shut me up before I say something they think I shouldn’t. Before I can say things about the family that the family doesn’t want anyone to know.”

He shoved his face right up against the bars, glaring at me. “Too late! Too late!”

I took a step back, reached out and took hold of the Merlin Glass, and shook it down to hand-mirror size. I showed it to Laurence.

“Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I know!” said Laurence, pouting just a bit. He thrust a hand through the bars and tried to snatch the mirror from me, but I was careful to stay just out of reach. Laurence sneered at me, and stepped back. He pulled a white hair from his head, studied it intently, and then threw it away. He waved at the hand mirror, as though he could see someone in the reflection as well as himself, and then smiled at me guilelessly.

“That is the Merlin Glass, and you only think you know what it is and what it’s for. It’s not a toy. Or even a useful device. That . . . is Merlin Satanspawn’s last revenge upon our family.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

He shook his head several times, and then smiled craftily at me. “Let me out of here and I’ll tell you. No? You’re smarter than you look, Eddie Drood. Are you sure? I could tell you so many things.”

“I thought you wanted to be locked up down here,” said Molly.

“That was then,” said Laurence. “This is now. They’re different. The family will never let me out. I know that. When I let them imprison me, I never thought I’d live this long . . . But then, who knows how long a Living Library will last? Information is immortal, and Truth wants to be free! I am the family’s memory, and as long as the family goes on, so must I . . . After I’ve spent all these years soaking up Drood information and Drood secrets, they can’t ever allow me to fall into someone else’s hands. Far too dangerous . . . But one day I will know all there is to know, including all the things they’ve managed to keep from me, and then . . . I’ll just walk right out of here and there will be nothing they can do to stop me! And oh, the fun I’ll have, walking up and down in the world, and playing with it . . .”

He laughed softly, a cold, horrible, and barely human sound. He broke off abruptly and looked at Molly.

“There’s something you want to ask me, little witch. About the Regent of Shadows, and just how dark the shadows get.”

“Yes,” said Molly. “Do you know who gave him his orders after he left the family?”

“Of course!” said Laurence. “I know everything! That’s the point. Arthur Drood, Grandfather to Eddie, late husband of the late Matriarch Martha. The Drood with a conscience, they used to call him . . . though that didn’t last long once he was out alone in the cold cold world. The Droods used him to do their dirty work. All the secret executions and deniable operations thought to be too much even for Droods. They held the possibility of being allowed to return over him, of being welcomed back into the bosom of the family . . . and he did want that so very badly.”

“Who was it?” Molly said harshly. “Who, specifically, gave him his orders? Who told him to kill my parents? Was it the Matriarch?”

“Oh, she was just one of many,” Laurence said offhandedly. “A lot of people in the upper registers of the family used the Regent, for their own reasons, to do the things they weren’t supposed to do. He did so many bad things, and so many good . . . before he finally wised up. And realised the family never had any intention of taking him back. He told them all to go to Hell and walked away, and set up his own organisation. The Regent of Shadows, doing good, doing penance, for the atonement of sins.”

Laurence abruptly turned his back on us, went back to his bed, and lay down again, staring up at the ceiling. As though all the energy had suddenly gone out of him. When he spoke again his voice was flat, almost uninterested.

“The Regent killed an awful lot of people who needed killing. And I’m afraid that includes your mother and father, Molly Metcalf. They did do so many awful things as part of the White Horse Faction, that you never knew about. Because they never wanted you to know what kind of people they really were.”

“Shut up!” said Molly. “Shut up!”

She turned away from the bars, hugging herself tightly, as though to hold herself together. Laurence’s soft laughter drifted out of the cell.

“You see, Eddie? People come to me and they say they want the truth, but they don’t. Not really. You’d better go now. People are coming. And they really won’t be happy to see you here.”

“Will you tell them I was here?” I said.

“Only if they ask.” He laughed happily. “I know everything there is to know, but you need to know the right questions to ask. And you didn’t ask the right questions, Eddie Drood and Molly Metcalf.”

Molly looked at me. “I don’t hear anyone coming. Do you hear anyone coming?”

“No,” I said. “But given this is a man who is supposed to know everything about my family, I am completely prepared to take his word for it. And if there really are Drood security forces on their way here, I don’t think we should be here when they turn up. They are not going to be in a good mood, or even a little bit understanding about this.”

“Let them come,” said Molly. “I can take them.”

I had to smile. “That’s why we’re leaving. Because I don’t want to have to watch members of my family being seriously damaged. I might want to come back here, someday.”

“Don’t see why,” said Molly. “You know this place is bad for you.”

In Cell 13, Laurence Drood was quietly singing, “We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when . . .”

I shook the Merlin Glass out to door size, subvocalised a new set of coordinates, and then pushed Molly through the moment the Door opened. I rushed through after her, not giving her time to argue, and immediately closed the Door down again. I tucked the hand mirror away in my pocket, and looked quickly about me. We’d arrived in a dark, shadowy corner, surrounded on all sides by high banks of machinery. There was enough dust around to suggest that this particular location was as overlooked now as it had been when I was a lot younger. Molly glared at me, but had enough sense to keep her voice down even as she yelled at me.

“Don’t ever push! I hate being hurried! Where the hell are we now?”

“In the Armoury,” I said, just as quietly. “Tucked away in an area that isn’t much used. I used to hide here all the time when I was just a kid, avoiding lessons so I could watch my uncle Jack at work. Because whatever he was up to was always going to be more interesting than whatever school was trying to cram down my throat that day. I’m pretty sure Uncle Jack knew I was here all along, but he never said a word.”

“What are we doing in the Armoury?” said Molly, just a bit dangerously.

“You heard the Living Loony,” I said. “ Ask your Uncle Jack , he said, which means he knows Uncle Jack knows something about the Lazarus Stone. Of course he would-if it’s a weapon, the Armourer always knows about it. So I need to talk to him, quietly and very privately.”

“The Voice said you weren’t to talk to your family,” Molly said carefully.

“I know,” I said. “I’m banking on the fact that the Armoury’s shields and protections are the most powerful in the Hall. Just to make sure that whatever happens in the Armoury stays in the Armoury. No matter how appalling, destructive, or violently explosive it might be. I really can’t see how the Voice could eavesdrop on us here. Even God probably has to concentrate to listen in . . . Anyway, I need to talk to Uncle Jack.”