Simon Green - The Man with the Golden Torc

The Armourer stepped up to the lion’s snarling mouth and slipped a long brass key into a hole in the mouth that I couldn’t even see. He turned the key twice, subvocalising a whole series of Words, and then withdrew the key and stepped smartly back as the Lion’s Jaws grated slowly open. The upper lip rose steadily, operated by some hidden mechanism, revealing huge jagged teeth, above and below. The jaws continued to open, until the lion’s mouth gaped wide, revealing a tunnel big enough to walk through without having to duck your head. The throat of the lion, which led to the Armageddon Codex.

"Is it…alive?" Molly murmured.

"We don’t think so, but no one knows for sure," I said. "It’s as old as the house. Maybe older. The family might have made it, or just made use of it. Legend has it that if you pass through the Lion’s Jaws, you must be pure of heart and pure of purpose, or the jaws will close on you."

"And then?" said Molly.

"Have you never seen anyone eaten by a stone head?" said the Armourer.

"I did, once," I said. "I was down in Cornwall—"

"I was speaking rhetorically!" snapped the Armourer. "I’m sorry, Molly, my dear; he always was terribly literal, even as a child."

"You mean it really does eat people?" said Molly. "If they’re not…pure in heart?"

"Oh, yes," I said.

"Think I’ll wait out here," said Molly.

"Relax," said the Armourer. "It’s just a story we tell the children to stop them from messing around with the jaws. The crafty little buggers are always getting into things they’re not supposed to. Trust me, Molly; you’ll be perfectly safe as long as you’re with us. Just as well, really. I haven’t been pure in heart since I was ten years old, with my first erection."

He waggled his bushy eyebrows at her, and Molly smiled dutifully. She still stood very close to me as we followed the Armourer through the Lion’s Jaws and down its throat into the Armageddon Codex. Which turned out to be just another stone cavern but with terrible weapons hanging in rows upon the stone walls, like ornaments in Hell. Some hung on plaques; others stood in special niches carved from the bare stone. None of them were identified; either you knew what they were and what they could do, or you had no business touching them. I knew some of the weapons by sight and reputation from my extensive reading in the library.

There was Sunwrack, for putting out the stars one at a time. Beside it was the Juggernaut Jumpsuit. And there, the Time Hammer, for changing the past through brute force.

The Armourer noted me studying the hammer and nodded quickly. "Studying that gave me the idea for the reverse watch I gave you, Eddie. A lot of thought went into that. I hope you’re taking good care of it."

I just nodded absently, still fascinated by the terrible weapons arrayed before me, things I’d never dreamed I might someday see in person. There was Winter’s Sorrow, a simple crystal ball full of swirling snowflakes. It might have been a paperweight or a child’s toy. But all you had to do was break the crystal, and it would unleash the Fimbulwinter: an endless season of cold and ice, all across the world, forever and ever and ever. Molly reached out a hand to touch it, saying, "Oh, cute!" And the Armourer and I both yelled at her and dragged her away. We sent her back to stand at the entrance, and she went, sulking. And then, finally, there was Oath Breaker.

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."

"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 spell: 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."