trust the Regent, Eddie, but we ve no reason to extend that to his whole damned organisation. If Crow Lee has people inside your family, you can bet he s planted even more inside the Department of the Uncanny. Probably back when they were just Shadows.
I suppose that is always possible, said Diana, in an entirely reasonable tone of voice she must have known would put Molly s teeth on edge. I wouldn t put anything past Crow Lee. The treacherous little shit. But you can trust me, Eddie. The Regent specifically chose me to come here and talk with you because he had no doubt that you could trust me. Do you trust me, Eddie?
I looked at her. I knew I shouldn t trust her, that I had no good reason to, but somehow I did. Molly could see what was happening on my face, and made a point of tutting loudly and rolling her eyes.
You always were too trusting, Eddie Drood. And always far too ready to be impressed by mutton dressed as lamb. All right, what s the plan with the Merlin Glass?
Simple, I said. I ll arrange the arrival coordinates so that although we enter the Glass here and now, we ll arrive at Crow Lee s estate twenty-four hours in the future. That should give him more than enough time to become worried about all kinds of things where are we, why haven t we arrived yet, what we re planning. It should also provide enough time for his private army to get tired of standing guard for a threat that never comes, and get bored and complacent and sloppy.
I don t know, said Molly. This is Crow Lee we re talking about.
It gives us an advantage we wouldn t otherwise have and that he won t suspect, I said patiently.
Unless you actually want to drive all the way down to Surrey. Arriving worn-out in the early hours of the morning, having driven all through the night, being nagged all the way by the sat nav?
I heard that! said the sat nav.
You were meant to, I said.
Why only twenty-four hours into the future? said Diana.
Because I don t trust the Merlin Glass any further than that, I said. There are far too many things that can go wrong with time travel. And, besides, I just can t stand the thought of Crow Lee having any more time than that. I am going to destroy his house and his grounds and everything he owns, bring his whole world crashing down about his ears and then I m going to make him bring my family back. Whatever it takes.
I ll help, said Molly.
Couldn t do it without you, I said.
We smiled at each other, and just like that everything was all right again between us.
I hate to be the wet blanket here, said Diana, but won t Crow Lee detect you approaching through the Merlin Glass? I mean, that thing gives off a hell of a lot of magical energies, and he s bound to be looking for it. If we know you ve got it, you can be sure he knows.
He ll be looking for spatial travel through the Glass, I said just a bit smugly. Not time travel. He doesn t know the Glass can do that. No one does.
You re so sharp you ll cut yourself one day, Molly said admiringly. Death from Above, via the Timestream! I love it!
And she did a little jig of joy, right there in the street.
He ll never see it coming, I said solemnly.
And then all three of us looked up sharply and round as a big red double-decker London bus came thundering down the street towards us. It was really travelling, moving much faster than any London bus should, and it took me only a moment to realise all the windows were darkly tinted, so no one could see in. I couldn t even see the driver at the wheel, never mind any of the passengers. The bus roared right down the middle of the road, its engine making a hell of a racket as it struggled to maintain its speed. Tinted windows? On a public-transport bus?
That s odd, said Diana. The route number on the front of that bus is all wrong. It shouldn t be anywhere near here.
We watched curiously as the bus drew nearer, straddling the middle of the road, and then the driver slammed on the brakes so that the bus slowed down as it passed us. The whole frame shuddered from the sudden strain, and the wheels made harsh squealing noises. And every one of the tinted windows just disappeared, replaced by dozens of assorted gun barrels. They targeted Molly and me and Diana as we just stood there gaping, and all of them opened fire at once.
I armoured up. Molly raised a protective field before her. And Diana just stepped smartly backwards into a handy shadow and disappeared. I knew there had to be a reason why the Regent s agents were called Shadows, I thought as the first bullets found me. All the guns were firing at once, and the combined roar was like the wrath of God. A noise so loud it was actually physically painful, even inside my armour. The bullets issued from the side of the bus like a pirate galley s broadside; thousands of bullets from dozens of guns, like a wall of death. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly from my armour and were swallowed by Molly s shield, and chewed up the brick wall behind us, and, rather surprisingly, just bounced harmlessly off the Plymouth Fury without making a mark.
Don t you shoot at me, you bastards! screamed the sat nav. I m a classic! Shoot at them; I m just the ride! They re the ones you want! Shoot the fleshy ones!
We will have words later, I said to the sat nav.
I glanced quickly behind me. The door to the Establishment Club was firmly closed, and, amazingly, taking no damage at all from the massed fire raking back and forth across it. And the bullet holes in the brickwork were already repairing themselves. Bullets might be a bit of a low-class threat to a setup like the Establishment Club, but it was clear it could look after itself.
Whoever was giving the orders inside the bus soon realised that their armoury of guns wasn t having the hoped-for effect. The assault shut off abruptly, and the bus s engine roared as it sped up again. I ran out into the street and sprinted after the bus, my armour s speed more than a match for its hurried departure. I quickly caught up with the bus and plunged both my golden hands, well past the wrists, into the rear of the vehicle. My golden fingers dug in deep. I took a firm hold and then forced my golden heels into the street. The bus screeched to a halt despite itself, skidding wildly, as my heels dug two deep furrows in the road. I grinned behind my face mask. Good to be a Drood.
I wrestled the bus to a reluctant halt, the whole rear wall bowing out towards me, stretched and distorted by my hold. The driver gunned his engine and the bus shook back and forth as it fought to pull free, black smoke billowing out from the tyres. But I had my hold, and the bus wasn t going anywhere. I pushed my arms farther in and lifted the whole rear of the bus up off the road, so that the rear wheels just spun helplessly in midair.
The tinted windows at the rear of the bus disappeared, replaced by a whole bunch of gun barrels moving quickly to target me at point-blank range. They opened up with everything they had, trying to blast me loose, but I just stood there and took it. Bullets hammered me from head to toe, ricocheting in every direction at once, even back into the bus, and I didn t feel a single impact. Some of the guns fired directly into my face mask, and a lot of good it did them. I didn t even blink. One by one the guns ran out of ammunition, and then they all suddenly withdrew. The tinted back windows reappeared, and the bus driver shut down his engine.
It was very quiet in the street. No gunfire, no straining engine, no squealing tyres; not a single sound. I dropped the rear of the bus back onto the road, and it bounced a few times on its heavy tyres before settling. I wrenched my hands back out of the bus, and they emerged easily amid the shriek of ruptured and tearing metal. Molly came forward to join me, and stood beside me as we looked over the silent double-decker.
What the hell was that all about? said Molly.
I think, I said, that we have just been the victims of the hidden-world equivalent of a drive-by shooting. What the hell did these silly bastards think they were doing? Battles in the hidden world are supposed to stay hidden from the everyday world! You don t squabble in front of the children; everyone knows that!
Look around you, said Molly.
It took me only a moment to see what she meant. There was traffic all around us; cars and taxis, white vans and cycle couriers but not one of them was moving. Time had stopped around us. The drive-by and its intended victims were all caught in a single frozen moment, held between the tick and tock of the world s clock. So the shooting could take place without anyone noticing, until time started up again. The bus would be gone, and all that remained would be the bullet-ridden corpses of the victims. Just another mystery in the busy heart of London. Probably put it down to gangs.
A drive-by shooting, I growled. I hate them. I mean, come on. Is there anything more cowardly than a drive- by? Drive up at speed, spray bullets in every direction, hope you hit the right target among all the innocent
