didn t get out of my way fast enough. I wasn t concerned about police cars. Let them try to chase us. After what the Armourer had done to the Phantom s engine, it could probably hit Mach 2 without straining. While going sideways.
I thought we didn t want to attract attention, said Molly, amused.
They don t start none, there won t be none, I said wisely. We re a lot safer doing the Brighton run the hard way than by popping through the Merlin Glass. That much power in one place really would call all the eyes of the hidden world down upon us.
And you don t trust it, said Molly.
That, too, I said. Besides, I can use the time it ll take us to get to the coast to do some thinking. There s a lot that needs thinking about.
I ll put in some music, said Molly, producing a CD out of thin air.
And she put in Trans-Siberian Orchestra s Night Castle. Which may or may not have contributed to my mental processes. Those guys crank it up to eleven just to shake off the cobwebs. I was still working on how best to attend to Crow Lee when Molly abruptly shut off the music to raise a pertinent question.
There s no telling how long this is going to take, is there? she said. I mean, to track down your missing family and locate a mechanism strong enough to take us there and bring us back. It could take weeks, months maybe even years.
Yes, it could, I said, staring straight ahead and concentrating on putting the wind up everything in my way. It ll take as long as it takes.
And we have to face the possibility, Molly said carefully, that we might never find them. There s no telling just how far Alpha Red Alpha might have thrown the Hall, across the worlds beyond the worlds. We might never find another mechanism as powerful as Alpha Red Alpha to take us after them.
It s a big world, I said steadily.
Bound to be something out there. I hear what you re saying, Molly, but I don t believe it. I can t believe it. My family isn t dead, just lost, and I will find them if it takes me the rest of my life.
I understand, Eddie. I really do. I d feel the same if someone had taken my sisters. And I love Isabella and Louisa a lot more than you love your family.
Well, I said. Love s a complicated word. And the Droods are a complicated family. I glanced across at her. You never talk about your family, Molly. Apart from your sisters. I know your parents were killed in the field, like mine. But what about your other relatives?
There is no one else, said Molly. Her voice was calm enough, even matter-of-fact, but she wouldn t turn her head to look at me. My family have always been rogues, outlaws, troublemakers supernatural freedom fighters or terrorists, depending on who you talk to. And a tradition like that comes with a built-in high mortality rate. You don t die in bed in my family. Or at least not in any acceptable way. And the world has been very hard on us, in recent times. The world and the Droods. So now there are just the three infamous Metcalf sisters to keep the world on its toes. The only survivors of a once-thriving line, because we have learned to be very hard to kill.
There s a chance my parents are still alive, I said. So maybe
No, said Molly. Beyond a certain point, hope is more than self-indulgence. It s self-harm.
You still have me, I said. Forever and a day. And through me you have my family. Please take them.
We looked at each other and managed a small smile.
I m still thinking about that, to be honest, said Molly. I want you, but I m not sure about them.
A perfectly reasonable attitude, I said, slamming the gear stick through its paces with the palm of my hand and sending a poncy-looking Porsche swerving uncontrollably in my slipstream.
I m not sure I d belong to my family if I had any say in the matter. The Droods do good work. They re necessary. But
Yeah, said Molly. But.
I shrugged. They re still my family. Good and bad and in between and the Librarian. After all the changes I ve put them through recently, I feel responsible for them. And, anyway, we have to get them back. The world needs them.
That s sort of what I was getting at, said Molly. Someone is going to have to look after business, protecting the world and all that, until you can find the Droods again. Someone s going to have to take up the slack and do all the heavy lifting in the Droods absence. And who is there? I mean, really?
The London Knights, I said.
All right, yes. Ten out of ten for Mr. Obvious here. But really? The last defenders of Camelot, noble knights and true, under the returned King Arthur; fair enough. No one doubts they re the good guys, in a very martial and smiting-the-ungodly way, but they re hardly ever here! They mostly involve themselves with otherworldly and even other-dimensional threats. And since they believe very firmly in taking the fight to the enemy and making a mess where they live, they just aren t around much of the time.
I did do some work with the Carnacki Institute back when I was just a London field agent, I said. But the Ghost Finders are just too limited, both in their scope of activity and in terms of manpower. And far too closely linked to the establishment, for my liking.
You see? said Molly. I suppose we could always approach the new authorities in the Nightside, with their new Walker, John Taylor.
Absolutely not, I said. I wouldn t trust any of that crowd farther than I could throw a wet camel into the wind. There s a reason why we keep them locked up in the Nightside, and I m not going to be the one to let them out on an unsuspecting world. The Nightside always has its own agenda. I mean, have you met Dead Boy?
Yes, said Molly. Louisa went out with him for a while.
There used to be MI-13, I said, more because I was still thinking out loud than because I had any faith in them.
They ve done good work in their time, but after the Great Satanic Conspiracy revealed how infiltrated and compromised they were, it ll be a long time before anyone trusts them with anything that matters. In fact, the more I think about it part of what makes the Droods so important is that there just isn t anyone else like us.
There are a great many other perhaps not as reputable groups and individuals, Molly said carefully.
Certain known names whom I may or may not have done certain things with in the past, probably best not discussed in present company And it could be that I might know how to get in touch with them. Eddie, somebody s got to do it!
Who did you have in mind? I said, equally carefully. The Soulhunters, perhaps?
You have got to be joking! Molly made a seriously disgusted and appalled noise. I wouldn t touch them with an exorcised barge pole! Those people are seriously weird. I worked alongside one of their agents. Just the once. Called himself Demonsbane. Because it turned out we were working the same case from different ends. Something had been snatching foetuses, teleporting them right out of the womb and leaving only simulacra behind. The two of us ended up chasing Hagges through the sewers under Liverpool. We got the poor things back eventually, but Demonsbane freaked me out big-time. That s not even a code name, you know. That s what he calls himself! Hate to think what the other choices were The point is, he was seriously spooky, like all the Soulhunters.
And you know spooky, I said.
Damn right I do. Trust me, Eddie. There is something seriously wrong about the Soulhunters. Every damned one of them.
You know how sometimes this job can drive you crazy? I said. The Soulhunters have always dealt with the darkest, nastiest and freakiest areas of the hidden world. Word is, when you re too weird, too disturbed or just too broken for any of the other supernatural organisations, that s when you re ready for your Soulhunters interview. In fact, I think this is how it goes: Are you crazy? Yes, I am! Welcome to the Soulhunters! If we let them take over from the Droods, the world won t know what s hit it. Certainly the hidden world wouldn t remain hidden for very long.
I love how you mention things and then immediately talk yourself out of it, said Molly.
Years of practice.
There s always the lone guns, said Molly.
The heroes and adventurers, the rogues and the headbangers. Maybe we could put together our own version of the Magnificent Seven.
Have bad attitude; will travel that sort of thing. We could start with the Walking Man.
