Simon Green - Daemons Are Forever

The Armourer immediately turned his glare on me. “Where the hell have you been, Eddie? Look at the world maps! Information has been flooding in ever since your little exercise in South America; all of it bad. There are brush fires breaking out across the globe, all because there aren’t any agents left in the field to stamp them out. The staff here are being run ragged just trying to keep track of what’s going on.”

“I’ve brought in some extra people, from intelligence and the media pit, and basically anyone else who didn’t look too busy or who couldn’t run away fast enough,” Callan said briskly. “We’re just about staying on top of things, for the moment. But world events are definitely accelerating, as world leaders give spectacularly good impressions of lemmings with a really bad hangover and no inhibitions.”

I had to raise an eyebrow at him. “Since when have you been in charge of the War Room, Callan?”

“Since you and your precious Inner Circle decided you’d rather spend your time squabbling with each other, instead of getting your hands dirty with the day-to-day running of the family. I used to work here, before I had delusions of being a field agent, and when I got back from that major clusterfuck in South America, I felt a need to be doing something useful, so I looked in here and was appalled to see how lax things had become in my absence. So I just walked right in, rolled up my sleeves, and took over. No one else was volunteering. The people here were actually grateful for someone to tell them what to do. You don’t like the way I’m running things, fine, boot my arse out of here; if you can find anyone dumb enough to take over. I’ll bet you lot don’t even know the precedence protocols, do you? And what are you smiling at, Edwin?”

“For a moment there,” I said, “you reminded me of me.”

“Now you’re just being nasty,” said Callan.

“These tough-guy bonding rituals are all very sweet,” said Harry, “but, Callan, as lord and master of the War Room do you think you could lower yourself to actually brief us on what’s happening now?”

Callan flared his nostrils. “Don’t push your luck, new boy. You and brimstone boy are only here on sufferance. Okay, everyone; bottom line. Politicians of every stripe and flavour are currently threatening each other with war, invasions, and all sorts of economic terrorism, because they believe the family is incapable of stopping them. Word of our lack of field agents, and maybe even lack of torcs, has clearly got around. So, all across the world lots and lots of old grudges, hatreds, and blood feuds are finally being paid off, with age-old enemies gearing up for some serious and long-delayed bloodletting.

“Added to that, all the usual unusual suspects are just itching to take advantage of the situation. While the cat’s away, the mice will inevitably get uppity. All the usual nasty organisations and individuals are operating more and more openly, just daring us to try and stop them. We’ve been enforcing the peace so long, we’ve forgotten just how much bad stuff was bubbling under the surface.”

He stopped to glare at me accusingly. Everyone else joined in. I glared right back at them.

“The more they come out into the open, the easier it will be for us to step on them,” I said. “They’ll all get what’s coming to them. Anything else, Callan?”

“Oh, loads. All of it bad, bordering on unnerving. Elf sightings are up. Significantly up. Current thinking from intelligence is that the elves may be planning to use the weakening of dimensional barriers by the Invaders to return at last from their long exile. Intelligence thinks we should try and make contact with the Fae Court, try and get them on our side, as allies against the Invaders. Because it’s not in the elves’ interests for the Invaders to destroy the very world the elves hope to return to rule.”

“Elves will never side with humanity,” I said flatly. “They hate us too much. They might side with the Invaders, just for the joy of seeing the Invaders do the one thing the elves never could: murder humanity.”

“Then there’s the aliens,” said Callan. “Most of the species we’re currently monitoring have up and disappeared. Presumably leaving while the leaving’s good.”

“Rats leaving the sinking ship,” growled the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“Well, quite,” said Callan. “Do feel free to just chime in and interrupt my briefing whenever you feel like it, Cyril. Finally, there is patchy but convincing evidence that Heaven and Hell are taking a direct interest in what’s going on. There are reports of angels. From Above and Below.”

We all looked at Roger, who shrugged. “No good looking at me. Neither side would confide in a half-breed. In fact, they’d probably fight each other just for the privilege of killing me.”

“I know just how they feel,” I said.

At which point, the terrible sound of a really huge gong slammed through the War Room, so loud people clapped their hands to their ears to try to keep it out. Everyone looked frantically around, bracing themselves for an attack, but all that happened was the Merlin Glass hopped out of my jacket pocket, grew to full size while hanging in midair, and formed a gateway between the War Room and the old library. William Drood stared out of the opening at the panicked War Room and smiled weakly.

“Sorry about that. I thought I’d disabled the gong function.”

I sighed heavily. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, William. Is this really important?”

“Of course!”

“Of course,” I said. “Everything’s important these days. Always breaking news, and never any time for the heartwarming stuff, about a badger that’s learned to skateboard. Don’t mind me, I’m just babbling, because it’s either that or start throwing things. What do you want, William?”

He smiled distantly, looking, it had to be said, even more twitchy and distracted than usual. “Rafe is looking after your friend. I have some new and quite probably vital information on the nature and intentions of the Loathly Ones. You need to hear this, Edwin, before you go making any plans.”

“All right,” I said resignedly. “The Inner Circle’s here with me. Fill us in.”

The Armourer stepped forward suddenly, standing beside me to stare into the opening. He smiled broadly at the librarian. “William!” he said. “My God, but it’s good to see you again! I didn’t know you were back in the Hall. Why didn’t you come and find me? You’re looking…good. Come on through and join us here! We’ll have a good long talk about old times, once this is over.”

William looked sadly at him. “I’d rather not…come through. I’m not ready yet. It’s Jack, isn’t it? Hello, Jack. It has been a while, hasn’t it… Though I couldn’t tell you how long. I rather lost track of things, like time and…things.”

The Armourer looked at me, lowering his voice. “What’s the matter with him? I thought you said he was…”

“Cured?” said William. “A bit optimistic, that, I’m afraid. And I’m crazy, not deaf. Let’s just say…I’m slowly getting back to who I used to be.”

“Why did you stay away for so long?” said the Armourer. He was trying to talk calmly, naturally, but it was clear how much his old friend’s condition was affecting him. “Why didn’t you say good-bye to anyone? To me? You didn’t even leave a note! Didn’t you realise how worried we’d be? I spent years trying to track you down, long after everyone else had given you up and labelled you a rogue. I never gave up on you. Why didn’t you tell me you were going, William? We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

“The Heart drove me out,” said William. You could tell he was trying hard to concentrate, to hold his straying thoughts together. “It hurt me. Bad Heart. I had to run, get away from the Hall, and the family, run for my life and what was left of my sanity. Yes. I had to go to ground where no one would think to look for me, and then hide deep inside myself, so even the Heart couldn’t find me. I went so very deep inside, Jack, and coming back is … difficult. We’ll talk later, Jack. Yes. Catch up, just the two of us. Just…not yet.