“Took me a while to find this,” he said, brandishing the gun. “One of the first things I had my people put together for me. A Colt repeater that fires strange-matter bullets. Punch right through that flashy armour of yours. The traitor inside your family really was very helpful. He could provide only a few strange-matter bullets, but I’ve got enough here to do the job.”
“Better not miss,” I said.
“I won’t,” said Philip MacAlpine.
And that was when Molly Metcalf teleported into the room. She appeared right beside MacAlpine, saw what he was doing and, while he was still startled by her sudden arrival out of nowhere, she snatched the gun out of his hand and threw it to me. I caught it easily and turned it on MacAlpine, while Molly moved over to join me. I hit the reset button. MacAlpine glared at me defiantly.
“I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry for any of it. It would have been glorious. . . .”
“No, it wouldn’t,” I said.
He laughed at me. “You can’t hurt me. Nothing in this world can hurt me. I was promised!”
“Yes,” I said. “But strange matter isn’t from this world.”
I shot him twice in the head, and he crashed to the floor and didn’t move. I looked at Molly.
“How . . . ?”
“Did you really think I’d leave you here? I told you: I’ve been to Heaven and Hell and Limbo! Getting into the Timeless Moment was nothing compared to that! Come on; everyone got back home safely, so we can leave this awful place to its own mercy. Time to go home, Eddie.”
“Damn right,” I said.
CHAPTER TWELVE
All That Remains
When I finally armoured down, back in my bedroom, and Molly saw what had been done to me, she put a hand to her mouth and did her best to keep the shock from her face. She helped me lie down on the bed, biting her lower lip every time I made a pained sound in spite of myself, and then spent the rest of the day sitting with me, working her healing magics. And by the early hours of the next morning, I was well again. So we spent the next few days in bed.
After that, all that was left was the cleaning up. Every field agent in the family went travelling across the world to explain to the various governments and leaders that the satanic conspiracy was gone, never coming back; forget any promises they might have made. And the Great Sacrifice was very definitely off the agenda. A handful of leaders and governments didn’t want to give up on such a great idea, and there followed a series of heart attacks and unfortunate accidents, followed by the appointment of new leaders and governments.
In between putting the fear of God into those who needed it, Molly and I travelled all over Europe, seeing the sights and having fun playing tourists. We had to do it the hard way, by plane and car, because the Merlin Glass was broken. The strain of interacting with Alpha Red Alpha had been too much for it, and now the mirror was cracked from side to side. The Armourer sort of thought it might still be possible to use it, but everyone else thought that was a very bad idea. So the Glass remained in the Armoury, under lock and key, because no one wanted to mess with an artefact created by Merlin Satanspawn. Not even my uncle Jack.
Molly and I returned to England some three months later, travelling in a perfectly restored Rolls-Royce Phantom V. Very smooth ride. Very tasty. It was a bright sunny day as Molly and I roared through the back lanes of the southwest countryside. Bright blue sky, not a cloud to be seen, birds singing their little hearts out. Kind of day that made you glad to be alive.
There wasn’t any warning.
I drove the Phantom up the long gravel path to the Hall, laughing and joking with Molly. The first indication I had that something was wrong was when I realised how quiet the grounds were. No gryphons, no winged unicorns, no signs of life anywhere. And then I rounded the last corner, and there was the Hall. Or what was left of it.
The Hall was a burnt-out ruin. The walls were broken, shattered, blackened by fire. The windows were blown out. The roof had collapsed and fallen in. Not one wall remained intact. The Hall was a shell, holding death and destruction within. The front doors had been blasted off their hinges and lay broken and charred in the driveway. A single golden figure lay curled in the doorway, the armour half-melted and fused together. I hadn’t thought that was possible.
I slammed the Phantom to a halt, and Molly and I got out. For a long moment I couldn’t move, held where I was with shock. Molly moved in close beside me. After a while, we went inside to look around.
The Hall had been utterly destroyed. Nothing remained intact. We found a few more golden figures: dead, melted, some almost shapeless. The Hall was gone, and my family was dead, and I hadn’t heard a thing. Too busy playing tourist. I reached out through my torc, trying to reach any other Drood, thinking maybe someone still out in the field might have escaped the slaughter, but no one replied. Not even Ethel.
“Who could have done something like this?” Molly said finally. I didn’t have an answer.
Everything I had had been taken from me. All that remained was duty, and revenge. And to be the last Drood.
ALSO BY SIMON R. GREEN
