help the Droods, even though you despise everything they stand for. Or perhaps I didn’t. Who can tell? I am wise and wonderful and know many things, some of them true.”
Ammonia glared at the rabbit, but couldn’t find anything to say.
“Is that it?” said William. “Are we all done now? Is this what sanity feels like? It’s been such a long time. . . . What do I do now?”
“Put the Old Library in order,” said Ioreth. “You’re the Librarian.”
“Of course,” said William. “Come along, Ioreth. Lots of work to do . . .” He got up out of his chair, and then stopped to look at the rabbit. “You will still be . . . around, won’t you?”
“Of course,” said Pook. “We still have so much to talk about.”
“I’m going to have to discuss this with the family council,” I said.
Pook inclined his great white head to me, grinning broadly. “You really want to tell them there’s a possibly imaginary giant white rabbit haunting the Old Library? Good luck with that one. Especially since I guarantee I won’t be around if they come looking. I’m very choosy about whom I reveal myself to. Even Ethel can’t see me, not least because I am of this world, and she isn’t. Let me become a rumour, a whisper, a family legend. One final family secret, and a last line of defence.”
He walked off into the Old Library and disappeared between the tall stacks with William on one side and Ioreth on the other. They all seemed very happy together. And I . . . was left alone with Ammonia Vom Acht.
“Take me to the Armourer,” she said. “I want the crown we talked about. The one strong enough to keep out the whole damned world.”
“You can wait here,” I said. “I’ll have someone bring it down to you.” I considered her thoughtfully for a long moment. “You know, there is something else you might be able to help us with. . . .”
Ammonia grinned at me nastily. “The true name and identity of the traitor hiding inside your family? Oh, yes, I could find him for you. No problem. But you’d have to give me access to every living mind in Drood Hall. And your family would never allow that, even though it’s clearly in your best interests, and those of all Humanity.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s in Humanity’s best interests,” I told Ammonia. “Only Droods get to do that.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The One True Thing
It was all happening at Drood Hall. I was saying good-bye to Ammonia Vom Acht when the next great steaming pile of ordure hit the fan. Or at least, I was trying to say good-bye. For someone who hadn’t wanted to come to Drood Hall in the first place, Ammonia was displaying a marked reluctance to leave. She stuck both fists on her hips, stuck out her chin, tilted her head back and did her best to glare right into my face.
“I am not leaving here without the psychic protection crown I was promised! I know all about you Droods; promise me the world and everything in it to get what you want, but the moment I’ve done your dirty work, it’s all, ‘Thank you kindly; we’ll be in touch!’ ”
“Let me contact the Armourer again,” I said, as patiently and politely as I could manage through gritted teeth. “See what he has to say.”
I used the Merlin Glass to contact my uncle Jack in the Armoury. His face appeared immediately, filling the hand mirror. “Eddie! Listen . . .”
“I’ve still got Ammonia here,” I said loudly, overriding him. “She’s saying she won’t leave without her crown.”
“She’ll have to wait,” said the Armourer. “We have an emergency on our hands, Eddie, and I mean a first- class, fire-in-the-hole, circle-the-wagons-and-call-in-the-reserves type emergency. Kick her out, and get your arse down here to the War Room.”
His face disappeared from the mirror, and I shut it down. I looked at Ammonia. She was opening her mouth to say something I knew I didn’t want to hear it, so I shook the Merlin Glass out to full size, locked it onto her house in Cornwall, grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and tossed her through. Some days you don’t have the time to be diplomatic. Ammonia spun round and glared back at me through the Glass, sputtering with rage and offended dignity.
“I want my crown!”
“We’ll mail it to you when it’s ready,” I said.
“You can’t just throw me out! I know things you need to know!”
“Thank you,” I said quickly. “Good-bye; write if you get work.”
“We’ll meet again! I’ve seen it!”
“Don’t you threaten me,” I said, and shut down the Merlin Glass.
I never like working with psychics. The trouble with telepaths is that they always want to tell you what’s going on in other people’s minds, and it’s nearly always things you’re better off not knowing. I certainly wouldn’t want anyone else knowing what was going on in my mind most of the time. Especially if it involved Helen Mirren in her prime. I looked at the Glass and frowned. Why did the Armourer want me to join him in the War Room? He never went there. In fact, I was a bit surprised he was able to find it without a sat nav. Must be a real emergency, after all. I opened up the Merlin Glass and stepped through into the Drood family War Room.
All hell seemed to have broken loose, accompanied by every manner of siren, alarm, ringing bells and flashing lights. People were running back and forth like someone had just announced the Second Coming and we’d forgotten to book our seats. Men and women at their workstations were yelling into comm mikes, or bent over their computers, and none of them looked at all happy at the answers they were getting. I spotted the Armourer, turning dazedly from one display screen to another and looking very out of place in his stained lab coat. I put the Glass away and moved over to tap him firmly on the shoulder. He almost jumped out of his skin, and when he turned to face me he looked drawn and tired, even shocked, like someone had hit him.
“What’s happened, Uncle Jack?” I said. “What’s the big emergency? And why didn’t you tell me something bad was happening until it got this out of control?”
“If I took the time to tell you everything I know that you don’t, we’d never get anything done,” snapped the Armourer, regaining some of his composure. “This is bad, Eddie, really bad. Very nasty, all-handsto-the-pump kind of bad. The Satanist conspiracy has made its first moves. One indirect but troubling, and one very direct and downright scary.”
“Never a moment’s peace,” I said resignedly. “And the pay’s lousy. I’ll bet the Satanists offer their people really wicked fringe benefits.”
“Will you listen, Eddie! We’ve lost an entire town! The whole population’s . . . gone!”
“You have my undivided attention,” I said. “How can the Satanists have taken out an entire town?”
The Armourer shook his head slowly, seemingly lost for words. Which wasn’t like him. “The family psychics all went crazy some twenty minutes ago. All of them saying Something Bad had happened. And then the details started coming in. . . . Hold on. Hold on a minute while I check something.”
And he was off, moving swiftly along the workstations, his gaze jumping from one monitor screen to another. I took the time to look around me. The War Room had never seemed this busy, not even when we were fighting the Loathly Ones in their nests during the Hungry Gods War.
The family War Room is a vast auditorium carved out of the solid stone under the north wing of Drood Hall. Normally you have to pass through a heavily reinforced steel door, a retina scan and a very thorough frisking before you’re even allowed to descend the old stone stairs that lead down to the vault. Which are in turn guarded by a whole bunch of cloned goblins noted for their utterly vile natures and a complete lack in the sense-of-humour department. The Merlin Glass had allowed me to bypass all that nonsense, which is one of the reasons the rest of the family keeps trying to take it away from me. They think it makes me too powerful. They are, of course, absolutely right. Which is one of the reasons I have no intention of ever giving it up.
All four walls of the War Room, tall and broad as they are, are covered with state-of-the-art display screens showing every country in the world, including a few that aren’t supposed to exist, but unfortunately do. All of them
