the Hall and your family. They re always looking into things they re not supposed to know about.
I hate to say it, I said. But you may be right.
Molly frowned dangerously. What s wrong with getting my sisters involved?
Since you ask, everything. Isabella, no problem. Arrogant and a pain in the arse, but she gets the job done. The Indiana Jones of the supernatural world, always sticking her nose in where it s not wanted, digging up ancient history, hidden truths and things the world is not ready to know yet while sneaking off with as much historical loot as she can carry. Isabella, I can deal with. But Louisa? She s got a worse reputation than you. Or me. Or Mr. Stab, the as-yet-uncaught immortal serial killer of Old London Town. Everyone s scared of Louisa Metcalf, and with good reason.
Exactly! said Molly. Who s going to say no to her when she starts asking questions?
All right, I said. I just know I m going to regret this, but go ahead and contact them.
Ah, said Molly. I already tried. They re not answering. They ve both got their auras turned off. Why would they do that?
They re your sisters, I said.
I could think of any number of reasons why the infamous Metcalf sisters would want to be off the radar, just off the top of my head but I had enough sense not to say so. Every now and again I think I m getting the hang of this relationship thing.
But if both my sisters are out of touch, for the time being we re right back where we started, said Molly.
Who can we turn to for help? Most of our old friends and allies are dead or missing in action and presumed dead or just in hiding, after all the heavy dramas we ve been through recently.
That s what comes of dragging them into our wars, I agreed. We are not safe to be around. I think we re going to have to go looking for the few Droods we know are still left alive in this world. I m pretty sure there aren t any agents left out in the field; we called in absolutely everyone for our last few wars.
Including the ones who didn t want to come? said Molly.
Oh, those most of all, I said. No, I m talking about the rogues. Those members of the family who ran away or were kicked out or went to ground to escape our justice. Our punishment for their crimes against Humanity.
You re being a bit hard on the rogues, aren t you? said Molly. Considering you were one. She looked distinctly amused.
That was different, I said with some dignity.
I was only on the run because I d been falsely accused.
And because your grandmother wanted you dead.
Well, yes, in a complicated sort of way. The point is, some of the rogues are more dangerous than others. When Droods go bad, we go really bad.
You really think the rogues would talk to you if you could find them? said Molly, wrinkling her perfect nose.
I mean, I hate to be the one to point this out, Eddie, but you have killed rogue Droods in your time. Arnold Drood, the Bloody Man, and Tiger Tim
I didn t kill them, I said. I executed them. Because they earned it.
And yet, strangely, I don t see that argument going down terribly well with the other rogues when you catch up with them. If I were one and I saw you walking up my front path, I think I d set fire to my own house and shoot myself in the head, just to get it over with. On the other hand I know a few rogue Droods. Sort of. They might be willing to talk to me, where they wouldn t want anything to do with you.
You know everyone, don t you? I said admiringly. And mostly not in a good way. You ve done deals with rogue Droods in the past, haven t you?
I was at war with your family, said Molly.
And when you re at war, you go looking for allies. This was all long before I hooked up with you, Eddie.
Even so, I said. You can bet they know about you and me now. And that you re no longer at war with the Droods. You still think they d talk to you?
They ll tell me anything I want to know, if they know what s good for them, Molly said firmly. She paused as a thought struck her. I could practically see the wheels turning. Wouldn t the rogue Droods be happy to hear that the Hall and the family are gone? They d finally be free to emerge from the shadows or whatever holes they ve been hiding in, and come out into the world again. No more looking over their shoulders all the time for someone like you
You d think so, wouldn t you? I said. But no. They ll be far more interested in having the family back so they can get their armour back. With Ethel gone, they re all suddenly as vulnerable and helpless as I was. No, they might not be part of the family anymore, but they still like being Droods, with all the power and privilege that comes from wearing the torc.
Hold it. Are you telling me that Ethel gave all the rogues new strange-matter torcs, along with everyone else? said Molly.
I did argue very strongly against it, I said.
But Ethel was very firm on the subject and would not be moved. Either everyone in the family got one or no one did. Sometimes there s just no arguing with the whims of an immensely powerful other-dimensional entity.
That might be enough to put pressure on the rogues, said Molly. And then she stopped and looked at me carefully. There is one very powerful rogue Drood that we could call on. I suppose. Someone in Ethel s league. The one you told me about. The one the family buried long ago, deep in the permafrost under Tunguska
Gerard Drood, I said. Grendel Rex. The Unforgiven God. No, Molly. Things haven t got that bad yet. In fact, I think the whole world would have to be ending before I even considered disturbing him again. And even then I d think twice.
But
No, Molly. I didn t tell you the whole story about Grendel Rex because I wanted you to be able to sleep nights. I didn t tell you everything about what happened in Tunguska, either, for the same reason. If the Unforgiven God ever wakes up, if he ever breaks the chains we bound him with and rises it would take the whole family and every other group of power we could bring on board to put him down again. He is the end of the world just waiting to happen.
All right, then Heading a hell of a long way in the other direction to the most harmless rogue Drood I know What about the Mole?
I looked at her sharply. I thought you said he d disappeared. Gone deep underground, dropped into a hole and then pulled it in after him?
Well, yes, but there s disappeared and then there s disappeared, said Molly. I haven t a clue where to look for him, but I m sure if I put the word out, he d hear it eventually. Just because he s stopped talking doesn t mean he s stopped listening. And who else is there who has access to as much information as he does?
To get the news to him, it would have to pass through too many people, I said. No way we could control it. I can t have that, Molly. The Mole is out.
Well, who else is there that we know of? Molly said impatiently. Sebastian is dead, murdered. Freddie is missing in action, presumed dead. Arrabella fell into a mirror and never came out again. What other rogues do you know?
I m not as up-to-date as I should be, I admitted. I haven t kept up on the files or any of the required reading since I got involved in running the wars against the Hungry Gods and the Immortals and the Great Satanic Conspiracy. There s only so many hours in the day. I concentrated, organising my thoughts. There s old Mother Shipton, last heard of running a baby-cloning clinic in Vienna. Nasty piece of work. Manfred Drood was last heard of in Moscow, running the Baba Yaga Irregulars. Fighting Russian supernatural crime, for a healthy profit. I doubt we could afford him. Then there s Anastasia Drood, last heard of in darkest Peru. And if she really is doing what she s supposed to be doing down there, I will kill her dead before I ever willingly exchange a word with her.
There are always stories and rumours of other rogue Droods, under this grand-sounding alias or that. Good and bad and in between The details and locations are always changing, scattered across the world. And the family just doesn t care enough to check them all out. Besides, we might need them someday. The family can be very pragmatic about some things. The whole point of being a rogue Drood is to never be who or what or where the family thinks you are. If only so they won t send someone like me to come and drive a stake through your rotten
