Book 2 - Daemons Are Forever (42 page)

I knocked politely on the Matriarch’s door, and tried the handle, but it was locked. I waited for a while, but no one opened it. I knocked again, putting a bit more effort into it, and then the Matriarch’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Who is it? Who’s there?”

“It’s Eddie, Grandmother. I’m back. Can I come in and talk with you?”

“The door is locked. And I don’t have a key.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. “All right, Grandmother. I’ll soon have the door open. Stand back.”

“Don’t you dare break my door down, Edwin Drood! It’s a valuable antique!”

I sighed quietly, just to myself. “All right, Grandmother. Give me a moment.”

I knelt down and studied the lock. Old-fashioned, sturdy, no problem at all. I armoured up my right hand, concentrated, and a thin extension of the golden strange matter slipped forward into the lock, shaping itself to fit the interior exactly, moulding itself into a key. The tasks and skills of a Drood field agent are many and varied. I unlocked the door, armoured down, pushed the door open, and entered into the Matriarch’s waiting room.

She was standing right in the centre of the antechamber, all alone. The room seemed very big and empty without the usual attendant crowd of family and friends and well-wishers. The Matriarch herself seemed somehow smaller, diminished. She was doing her best to stand tall and proud, as always, but for the first time I could see the effort. She was dressed formally, but her long mane of gray hair hung carelessly down, instead of being piled up on top of her head. She nodded stiffly to me, a stick-thin old lady with nothing much left but her dignity.

“Edwin. It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Grandmother. May I ask; how did you come to be locked up in your own rooms?”

“I have been held prisoner!” she said angrily, almost spitting out the words. “Harry has kept me under guard for months, forbidden to communicate with the rest of the family.”

“Why would he do that?” I said.

“Because I found out what he is.” Martha looked at me suspiciously. “Did you know, Eddie? You always know things you’re not supposed to… No, of course not. You would have told me, something like that. Come into my private rooms, Edwin. I don’t feel safe talking out here; you never know who might be listening, these days.”

She led me through into the bedroom. The curtains were still drawn, keeping the room comfortably gloomy. Alistair was still lying flat on his back in bed, still wrapped up in bandages like a mummy. A single blanket covered him, hardly rising at all as he breathed. He didn’t react at all as Martha and I came in and shut the door. Martha looked at him expressionlessly.

“Don’t worry; he’s asleep. Doesn’t even know we’re here. He sleeps most of the time now. It’s getting harder and harder to wake him long enough to take his nourishment. He really should be down in the infirmary, but I hate to think of him lying there alone, with tubes in him. Everyone else is just waiting for him to die, but they don’t know my Alistair. He’s strong. A lot stronger than anyone ever gave him credit for. You’ll see; one day he’ll just wake up, and be himself again. Like a butterfly emerging from his cocoon. Sit down, Edwin.”

We sat down on comfortable chairs by the empty fireplace, facing each other. The Matriarch studied me intently for a long moment.

“You look… different, Edwin. Older. But then, you’ve been through so much, haven’t you? You’ve grown up. I knew it would happen eventually. It looks good on you… But so much has happened while you were away. A year and a half, Edwin! Where have you been all this time?”

“Travelling in time, Grandmother. I went into the future, and found a mighty warrior to bring back to aid the family. I was supposed to return only a few seconds after I left, but…”

The Matriarch sniffed loudly. “The Time Train. I might have known. There are good reasons why we never use the stupid thing. I could have told you it wasn’t dependable, but you didn’t ask anyone, did you? You were so sure you knew better… I should have ordered it dismantled years ago, but for this nagging feeling that someday the family might just need it…”

“What happened to you, Grandmother?” I said patiently.

“I have been kept prisoner in these rooms practically from the day you disappeared. Harry came to see me. He said it was necessary for him to take command of the family in your absence, and I was quite prepared to give him my blessing. You have to understand, Edwin; he said all the right things, promised me all the right things. He made me believe he embodied all the old traditional values of the family. Unlike you… But even though he was saying all the things I wanted to hear, I still didn’t entirely trust him. I’ve run this family too long to take anything or anyone at face value.

“So I had a quiet, very discreet word with the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Just to be sure. The Sarjeant didn’t want to tell me what he knew, but I made him tell me. And that was when I found out the truth about Harry. That he was a deviant, and an abomination! Bedding his own hellspawned half brother! And he dared look me in the eye and tell me he believed in the old family values! I summoned him here and confronted him with what I knew… He didn’t try to defend himself. Just sighed and shrugged, and said it didn’t matter. He had control of the family, and he didn’t need me anymore. He locked me in my own rooms, put his own guards at my door. They took care of all my needs, saw that Alistair and I never wanted for anything… but nothing I said or promised or threatened would sway them. They were Harry’s creatures. I haven’t spoken to another living soul in over a year.

“Oh, Harry sees that I’m kept informed about everything that’s happening. I get regular reports, and I’m invited to make useful comments… which I do. My duty to the family hasn’t changed. But you have to get me out of here, Edwin! Harry isn’t up to the job. The family is losing this war! You need my expertise and experience!”

“Yes,” I said. “We do. But I’m back, and I’m running things again, Grandmother. Running them my way. Are you ready to work with me, now?”

“Of course. I’ve had a lot of time to think about… things. You and I are never going to agree on many things, but the needs of the family must come first. And right now, it needs both of us.” She looked back at the still form on the bed. “He won’t miss me. He doesn’t even respond to my voice anymore. Any nurse will do, until he wakes.” She looked back at me. “I haven’t forgiven you, for what you did to him. I never will. But duty comes first. I’ve always known that.”

“Then I think you and I should go down to the War Room,” I said. “So you can take charge there. You know how to run it far better than I ever could. And they could use some… direction.”

The Matriarch looked at me squarely. “I’ll run the War Room; you run the war. We can discuss… other things, after we’ve won the war.”

I grinned. “Looking forward to it, Grandmother. But let’s be clear with each other. You need me, now that Harry has… disappointed you. That’s the real reason you’re going along with all this. You haven’t forgiven me for removing you from power and changing the way the family does things. And I haven’t forgiven you for all those children sacrificed to the Heart down the years. We can work together, and we will, because the family and the world needs us to. But understand, Grandmother; you make one move to undermine my authority, or try and seize control again, and I’ll have you marched straight back here and locked in again. For the duration.”

She smiled at me, that old, familiar, cold smile. “You see, Edwin, you do understand how this family needs to be run. I’ll make a Drood out of you yet. I agree to all your conditions. For the duration.”

I shook my head slowly. “Even when I win an argument with you, it feels like I lost. One last question, before we go. It’s becoming increasingly clear that there has to be a long-standing traitor, set deep inside the family. Someone, possibly infected by the Loathly Ones, perhaps even the person responsible for bringing them back here in the first place. Do you have any idea who that might be? Any name come to mind?”

She stared at me for a long moment. I think she was actually shocked. “A long-term traitor? Unsuspected since World War II? Impossible!”

“Unfortunately not, Grandmother. Are you sure no one comes to mind?”

“No. It’s unthinkable… But then, so much has happened that I would once have considered unthinkable. I will consult the old family records. See if anything jogs a memory.”

“Okay. Let’s go. The War Room awaits.”

“No,” said Martha. And just like that, all her old stern command was back in her voice. “There is still something that must be done immediately, for the good of the family. You must order the expulsion of Harry, and the execution of his hellspawn lover. They cannot be allowed to contaminate the family with their presence any longer.”

“No,” I said, my voice just as cold and stern as hers. “Harry’s a good field agent, with a lot of experience. We still need him. I won’t declare him rogue just because … I mean, come on, Grandmother; we’ve had gay people in the family for ages. You must have noticed.”

“Of course I’ve noticed! I don’t care that he’s a homosexual! Your generation thinks it invented sex and all its possibilities … I don’t give a damn that Harry is gay; I care that he’s taken his half brother as a lover! Incest like that is strictly forbidden in the Droods, Edwin. It has to be, or we would have become dangerously inbred by now. The vitality and vigour of the Drood bloodline must be strictly maintained; that’s why marriages are always so carefully considered and, if need be, disallowed. And above all, to take as his lover a thing from the Pit! I can’t believe that you allowed a hellspawn into the Hall, Edwin!”

“Roger is James’s son,” I said carefully. “He’s your grandson too, just like Harry and me.”

“He is a demon, and never to be trusted,” Martha said flatly. “Kill him, Edwin. For the good of the family and the sake of the world.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“That’s what I used to say to you, when you were a child, and I had no intention of doing what you wanted,” Martha said dryly.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “I am growing up, after all.”

We both stood up. The Matriarch stepped forward, and for a moment I thought she was going to shake my hand formally. Instead, she put her hands on my shoulders, squeezed them gently, and smiled at me.

“Make me proud, Eddie.”

“I’ll do my best, Grandmother.”

“I know you will.”

“Grandmother…”

“Yes, Eddie?”

“It was you who told the prime minister where and when to find me, when I went back to my old flat, wasn’t it?”

“Of course, dear. You see; you’re thinking like a Drood leader already.”

We summoned up a nurse to sit with Alistair, and then the Matriarch and I went down to the War Room. All along the way people stood and stared, and then broke into spontaneous applause. Some even cheered. No one had seen Martha in public for a year and a half, and now here she was walking by my side. Word went swiftly ahead of us, and by the time we’d descended to ground level, crowds were lining all the rooms and corridors to cheer our progress. The Matriarch ignored them all, her back stiff and her head held high, and they loved her for it. Some of the cheers and applause were for me, and I made a point of smiling and nodding, while being very careful not to let it go to my head.

When we finally strode into the War Room, an almost palpable wave of relief swept through the huge chamber. Men and women stood up at their consoles and workstations to cheer and clap us. A few actually whistled. Martha bowed once to the room, and then made a quick cutting gesture with one hand; and the applause stopped immediately. I don’t think I could have managed that on the best day I ever had. The Matriarch cracked out a series of brisk commands, her voice sharp and authoritative, and above all calm and businesslike; and soon people were back at work, bent over their various stations with new confidence and enthusiasm. Runners charged back and forth like mad things, gathering the latest information to bring the Matriarch up to date, while others made sure she was supplied with a fresh pot of tea and a new packet of Jaffa Cakes. Sometimes I think this family runs on tea and Jaffa Cakes.

I stood back and watched. It’s always a pleasure to observe a real professional at work.

The communications people soon had her in contact with all the world leaders: every government, country, and powerful individual who mattered. Display screens all around the War Room were filled with scowling faces, and translation programmes ran overtime as the Matriarch addressed them all with her usual cool authority. Many of the faces seemed relieved to see her back. Martha strode from screen to screen, speaking to everyone individually, and through a carefully calculated combination of calm reason, sweet talking, basic bullying, and the occasional reminder that she knew where all the bodies were buried, the Matriarch soon had all the most important people in the world falling over themselves to agree to work together on dealing with the Loathly Ones. They committed money, manpower, and military resources, and most importantly, they all agreed to keep the hell out of our way while we did what was necessary. Martha cut them off one by one, and then stretched slowly, luxuriously, like a cat. She seated herself with royal dignity at her command station and smiled briefly at me.

“And that, Edwin, is why the family has to be in charge. Because we’re the only ones equipped to see the really big picture, and remain independent enough that people will accept our advice as impartial. We can persuade anyone, regardless of politics, on what must be done for the good of all. You can never trust politicians to do the right thing, Edwin, because at heart all they really care about is staying in power. They live in the present; it’s up to us to take the long view.”

I just smiled, nodded, and said nothing. There would be time for philosophical arguments later, once we’d made sure there would be a later. I hung around just long enough to make sure she had things firmly under control, and then I left the War Room and went down to the Armoury, where Molly was waiting for me.