Book 1 - The Man With the Golden Torc (37 page)

"Oh, he does. But whether they’re real things, or helpful
things…It’s up to you, Eddie, to get him to tell you what you need to know. I
mean, the Mole’s a sweetie, but he literally doesn’t live in the same world as
the rest of us anymore."

"Then why did you bring me down here?" I said just a little
tetchily.

"Because the Mole genuinely does know some things that no one
else knows."

"Whispering is very bad manners," the Mole said loudly. "And we
are not at home to Mister Rude."

"Sorry," I said. "We didn’t want to disturb you. I was hoping
you might know some things I need to know."

"Try me," the Mole said grandly. "I am wise and know many
things. Yes. Including a whole lot I’m not supposed to know."

"Do you know why I was declared rogue?" I said flatly. "Why the
Matriarch wants me dead so badly?"

"Ah," said the Mole, his face dropping. He clasped his podgy
hands across his protruding belly. "I’m not privy to our family’s inner
workings. Not anymore. No. I couldn’t even tell you why I was made rogue." He
blinked at me sadly through his heavy glasses and sighed wistfully. "Back then,
I was a respected family scholar. Never been out in the world, never wanted to.
I was working on an officially sanctioned history of the family. Full access to
the library, access to all documents, interview anyone I wanted. Lots of
fascinating stories…The next thing I know I’m on the run, with the pack baying
at my heels. Luckily I was something of a voyeur, even then." He sniggered.
"Nothing malicious. Not really. I just liked knowing things…It paid off, though;
I was already out of the Hall with as many valuables as I could stuff into a
backpack before they’d officially given the order to detain me. Oh, yes…I went
to ground here. I knew about this place. I’m not the first Mole under London,
you know. There were others before me, for various reasons. I just built on what
they started.

"But I still don’t know why I was outlawed. After all my years
of digging and probing and listening at electronic keyholes, I’m still no wiser.
No. I can only assume…I must have been on the edge of discovering something
really important, some deep dark family secret that the Droods have to keep
hidden at all costs…I just wish I knew what it was. I’d sell it to everyone,
just to make the family pay for what they did to me."

Another dead end. I scowled, thinking. "That reminds me a lot of
what happened to the old librarian," I said finally.

"Ah, yes," said the Mole. "Poor old William. You know what
happened to him?"

"Yes," I said. "Molly and I went to visit him this morning. He
couldn’t tell us much."

"I’m amazed he told you anything," said the Mole. "I’ve been
sending people in to talk to him for years, without success. You must tell me
absolutely everything he said to you before you go, so I can record it.
Everything, every word. Yes. I’ll study the recordings later, see if I can
cross-reference any useful connections."

"Do you know what it was he found out?" I said. "What it was
that drove him crazy? He mentioned the Sanctity and the Heart…"

"Did he? Did he now? That is interesting…Means nothing to me,
though. No. I’ll have to think about that. Yes. Still, I can’t help feeling
we’re probably better off not knowing. Look what knowing it did to a brilliant
mind like his…" The Mole blinked rapidly several times, and then deliberately
changed the subject. "I’m still working on a history of the Drood family, you
know. From a safe distance. You’d be surprised how much information there is on
the Droods out in the world, where they can’t suppress it. Oh, yes. I’m
constantly finding out all kinds of awful things our family has done, Edwin,
down the centuries. Oh, some of the things we’re responsible for…Terrible,
terrible things! Yes. Just lately I’ve been concentrating on the real reasons
behind certain important and well-known operations. For example, Edwin, do you
know why our family is so determined to wipe out the Loathly Ones?"

"Well, yes," I said. "They eat souls."

"Apart from that," said the Mole. "The family needs to silence
them so everyone else won’t find out that we were the ones who originally opened
the dimensional door and let the Loathly Ones into our reality. We brought them
here to act as foot soldiers against Vril Power Inc. during World War Two. Vril
had grown powerful enough under Hitler to pose a real threat to the family. Had
their own army and everything. Oh, yes, there were a lot of secret wars going on
behind and underneath the real conflict, that the world never knew about.
Anyway, the Loathly Ones did the job all right, but when the time came for them
to return to their own dimension, as had been agreed, the Loathly Ones reneged
on the deal and refused to go. They liked it here. The feeding was just so
good…The family’s been trying to wipe them out ever since so no one will ever
know we were the ones responsible for inflicting them on the world."

"Dear God," I said.

"Oh, that’s nothing!" said the Mole, leaning eagerly forward in
his chair. "That’s nothing compared to some of the things I’ve found out! The
family history that you and I were brought up on only records the official
version of events, not the failures and foul-ups and the secret deals that went
horribly wrong." The Mole paused, considering. "I have to say, I still believe
that most of what we were taught was true…as far as it went…but you have to
place it in the context of what it was all for in the end."

"So that we could be the secret rulers of the world," I said.

"Yes," said the Mole. "Sometimes I wonder…if perhaps there’s
another context, beyond that, that I don’t know about yet. Some very secret
reason why we have to be the secret rulers of the world, for everyone’s good.
I’d like to believe that. Yes."

"Have you found any evidence for that?" I said.

"No," the Mole said sadly. "If only I could access the family
library. All the reserved volumes and the restricted books. Learn the whole true
history of the Drood family…But not even my resources can hack the Drood
library. No. That’s why they’ve always kept everything on paper, because of
people like me. And of course I’ve never been able to sneak a single
surveillance camera into the Hall. No! No…"

"So you can’t tell me anything about why I was outlawed?" I
persisted.

"You must know something," the Mole said sharply. "It’s always
knowing things that make you really dangerous to the Droods. Knowing things they
don’t want anyone else to know. Secrets that have to be kept inside their
precious inner circle. The Matriarch, her council, her favourites…The ones who
really run the world."

"But I don’t know anything!" I said. I could hear the
desperation in my voice.

"They think you do," the Mole said simply.

We both looked around sharply as loud music blasted suddenly
through the cavern. It seemed Molly had grown bored and wandered off on her own
while the Mole and I argued over family history. She’d found MTV on one of the
screens and jacked up the volume. "She Bangs" by Ricky Martin filled the air,
the loud salsa beat echoing back from the stone walls. And Molly danced joyously
to the music, stamping her feet and shaking her head and swirling her long dress
about her. The Mole and I both watched, too entranced to think of protesting, as
the wild witch danced to the music. It felt good to see such a moment of happy
innocence in the middle of such dark discussions. Molly understood that life was
for living, and living in the moment. Anywhen else, I would have joined her,
danced with her, but just the thought made my bad arm ache the more fiercely.

The song finally finished, and the Mole worked his remote
control, cutting off the next number. Molly danced on for a moment, and then
strode back to join us. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright and happy.

"Spoilsport!" she said cheerfully to the Mole, and actually
leaned over him to kiss him on the cheek. The Mole blushed bright red. Molly
looked at me.

"Are we finished here, Eddie?"

"Almost," I said. I turned back to the Mole. "What do you know
about strange matter?"

"Ah," said the Mole. "Yes, yes! I heard about the elf lord’s
arrow! It really punched right through your armour? Interesting…That was, well,
I won’t say unprecedented—there are stories—but this is the first authenticated
case I’ve ever encountered. All I can tell you for sure is that strange matter
comes from another dimension of reality, where the laws of physics are subtly
different. So that things which could never arise naturally here are possible
there. Like strange matter, with its amazing unnatural properties."

"It’s inside me," I said. "Poisoning me. Killing me. Is there a
cure, an antidote? Something I could use to drive it out of me?"

"I don’t know," said the Mole, and I could see it pained him to
admit it. "I’d need to know exactly where it came from. Only the elf lord could
tell us that, and elves don’t talk to anyone who isn’t an elf. I have some
indirect contacts…Yes. Give me a few weeks, and I might have something to tell
you."

"I don’t have a few weeks," I said. "And I’m starting to think
that the only place which could help me, the only place with the answers I need,
is the library back at the Hall."

"They won’t help you," said the Mole.

I smiled unpleasantly. It felt good. "I wasn’t planning on
asking them," I said. "I was thinking more about breaking into the Hall,
ransacking the library, and taking what I bloody well need. And if that happened
to involve beating some answers out of various people, like Grandmother’s
beloved consort, that would just be a pleasant bonus."

"Now, that’s more like it!" said Molly, clapping her hands
together gleefully. "Hard core, Eddie! No one’s dared burgle the Hall in
generations! Let me come too! Oh, please; I promise I’ll make a real mess of the
place!"

"Edwin, no; don’t even think it," the Mole said urgently. "You
know what kind of security protects the Hall. All the terrible things and forces
our family rely on to protect their privacy. Any safe words you might have known
will have been cancelled by now. You don’t want to end up as one of the
scarecrows, do you?"

"Wait a minute; those are real?" said Molly. "I thought they
were just stories to scare people off."

"They’re real," I said. "I’ve heard them screaming. My family
really is just as vicious and vindictive towards uninvited visitors as all the
stories say we are." I looked at the Mole. "You probably know more about the
Hall’s defences than anyone else who isn’t actually an insider. If you were to
come with us…"

"No! No. I couldn’t."

"Not even for a chance to strike back at the people who ruined
your life?"

"You don’t understand," said the broken man who used to be
Malcolm Drood. "I haven’t left this place since I first came down here. All
those years ago…This is the only place where I feel safe anymore. Just the
thought of leaving here…is more than I can bear. You’re the first real, in the
flesh visitors I’ve allowed in here since I first shut the door behind me and
sealed myself off from the world." He managed a small smile. "You should feel
honoured."

"No company, ever?" said Molly. "I heard rumours, but I never
really thought…How do you stand it?"

"Because the alternatives are worse," said the Mole. "I live
through my screens now, and on the Net. A virtual life, but better than none."

"All those years," I said. "Gathering and collating information,
but you’ve never done anything to expose the truth about our family to any of
the world’s media. Why not?"

"Because I’m not ready to die yet," said the Mole.

"So," I said to the Mole, "is there by any chance a back way
out of this place? I’m really not too keen on fighting my way back through
tunnels full of seriously pissed-off trolls just to get back to Blackfriars
station. Which is probably swarming with unfriendly people on the lookout for
Molly and me anyway."

"Of course there’s another way out," said the Mole. "You don’t
think I’d allow myself to be trapped anywhere, even in my own lair, do you? I
may be paranoid, agoraphobic, and unhealthily addicted to eBay, but I’m not
stupid. No. I’ve always known that one day my many enemies will track me down,
and then I will have to leave my comfortable little bolthole. Probably running.
Yes. So, if you would care to make your way to the back of the chamber,
preferably without knocking against or in any way upsetting my very delicate
equipment, you’ll find an emergency elevator, ready and willing to take you
straight to the surface."

"Where on the surface?" said Molly.

"Anywhere on the surface," the Mole said smugly. "Just tell the
elevator where you want to go, and it will deliver you there."

"Anywhere in London?" said Molly.

"Anywhere in the world," said the Mole. "You always did think
too small, Molly."

"An elevator to anywhere in the world?" I said. "How is that
even possible?"

The Mole smiled on me pityingly. "You wouldn’t understand even
if I did explain it to you. Let’s just say that quantum uncertainty is a
wonderful thing and leave it at that. It was nice to meet you at last, Molly.
And you, Edwin. But don’t come back. You’re just too dangerous to have around.
Bye-bye. Safe journey. Why are you still here?"

Molly and I took the hint, nodded good-bye, and headed for the
back of the cavern. Where there was indeed a perfectly ordinary elevator door
set flush into the black basalt cavern wall. The door was polished steel, and
beside it was a big red button, marked UP. I looked at Molly.

"On to the next rogue, I suppose. For want of anything better to
do. You do know of another rogue?"

"Of course. Sebastian Drood. He has a nice little place in
Knightsbridge, just down the road from you."