All right, sat nav, said Molly. Make yourself useful. Which way to Crow Lee s lair?
Oh, now you need me! the sat nav said bitterly.
Well, tough. I don t feel like it. I ve just been put through a terrible experience and my nerves are a mess. Call back later and see if I m home.
Give me the proper directions, I said, or I ll open up the Merlin Glass again and see if it can jump us any closer.
Bully! hissed the sat nav. All right, all right. Let me see. I ve got a map here somewhere. Ah. Yes. Drive straight on, third turn on the left, and then watch for the hidden entrance. Which I shall alert you to the moment I can find the bloody thing. Or maybe not! It all depends on how I feel, and don t you forget it.
See how easy that was? I said.
You wait, said Molly. That thing will be driving us down a crease in the map before you know it.
I heard that!
Good! said Molly.
The sat nav made a loud sarcastic noise and then settled for something that sounded very like teeth grinding together.
I drove carefully down the long leafy lane, in and out dark shadows cast by out-leaning trees, and slowed cautiously as I approached every corner, just in case there might be something lying in wait. But there wasn t so much as a slow-moving piece of farm machinery. No traffic at all, in fact; not a jogger on a health kick or some exercise fiend hunched over a bicycle. It was as though we had the whole road to ourselves.
Where is everybody? I said after a while.
Did the world come to an end during the twenty-four hours we just jumped?
Don t say that! the sat nav said immediately. Never give the universe ideas; it can be malevolent enough as it is.
You really are paranoid, aren t you? said Molly.
I knew you were going to say that, muttered the sat nav.
I think Crow Lee just likes his privacy, I said.
Probably pays everyone to stay well away from his lair good word, that, Molly and use other roads that don t go anywhere near his place. And if he really does have his own private army, he can probably put the hard word on anyone who doesn t feel like cooperating. I doubt if Crow Lee s actually told them he s the Most Evil Man in the World, but the locals must have got the idea by now. Crow Lee has never been the sort to hide his awful light under a bushel.
What is a bushel? said the sat nav.
A dry measure containing eight gallons or four pecks, said Molly, just a bit unexpectedly.
I m glad one of us knew that, I said.
I d hate for us to be outsmarted by a sat nav.
Turn left now! screamed the sat nav. Now! Right now!
I glimpsed the disguised turn just in time and hauled the steering wheel over. The Plymouth Fury turned smoothly into the narrow opening, hardly slowing at all. The new road was only just wide enough for one car to drive down at a time, and I quickly decided that if we met anyone coming our way they d better be really good at reversing. The road was bounded on both sides by high hedgerows blocking out most of the light. It was as though we d gone straight from midday to twilight. I made myself relax, unclenching my hands from the wheel.
Nice driving, said Molly, staring straight ahead.
I thought so, I said.
Hah! said the sat nav cuttingly.
A little advance warning would have been helpful, I said loudly. Whatever happened to, In a hundred yards you will come to?
Not my fault, the sat nav said with a sniff.
That hidden entrance would have been invisible to your eyes, entirely undetectable. We wouldn t have found it except for my highly trained sensors. And even I couldn t see it till I was right on top of it. In fact, I m not sure that entrance is really there all the time, unless you know where to look.
He stole that idea from the Droods, I said.
Well, said Molly. At least we can be fairly certain we ve come to the right place. At last.
Oh, ye of little faith, said the sat nav.
Wait till I m in charge around here, and then you ll see some smiting.
I slowed the car right down, making my way cautiously along the narrow winding way. There were too many blind corners, too little good light and far too many dark shadows for my liking. It was like driving out of the day and into the night, with the surety of bad dreams ahead. This was a private road, part of Crow Lee s private world, and like everything else he owned, he d put his stamp on it. The dark greenery of the high hedgerows seemed to stir slowly, right on the edge of my vision, only to fall still again the moment I looked at it directly.
We rounded a final long sweeping corner and I hit the brakes hard as the road ended in a set of heavy black iron gates. They blocked the road completely from side to side, and gave every appearance of being very definitely locked. I couldn t see any chains or padlocks, but I had no doubt there were other, more dangerous, protections in place. I tapped my fingertips thoughtfully on the steering wheel while I considered my next move.
Have you noticed? said Molly. All the natural sounds have stopped. The birds aren t singing here.
Do you blame them? I said. In a place like this? Do you feel like singing?
Don t you get snappy with me, Eddie Drood!
I never get asked to sing, the sat nav said sadly.
Well, colour me surprised, said Molly.
I do a great Bruce Springsteen!
Hush, children, I said. Daddy s thinking.
The more I looked over the tall iron gates, the less I liked them. Long, vertical, parallel bars painted black as sin, and overlaid on them a stylised figure of a huge dragon. With great fangs and claws and sweeping wings, its outline stretched across both gates.
I think we re looking at the first layer of protection, I said. At the first sign of trouble, that dragon shape probably comes to life and goes all flamethrower on whoever s calling. Or maybe this was a real dragon once, and Crow Lee trapped it in this form to be his own personal attack dog.
No, Molly said immediately. I d See that if it were there. It s just a gate. Nice workmanship, though.
Spend enough time tracking down crazy in the head villains, and you end up thinking like them, I said. Those gates do look very thoroughly locked. I suppose I could just reverse, build up some speed, and crash right through them.
Don t you dare! said the sat nav.
You ll scratch my paintwork and dent my grille!
You say that like it s a bad thing, Molly said sweetly.
Philistines! howled the sat nav. There will be a reckoning. Oh yes
The gates are bound to be reinforced, I said reluctantly. And this is a loaner from the Regent.
I turned off the engine and got out. Molly was quickly out of her seat, too, and we moved forward together to study the tall iron gates, while being very careful to maintain a respectful distance. I raised my Sight and had to fight down the urge to retreat several steps in a hurry. Layer upon layer of protections hung in the air: protective screens and force shields, magic and science combining to create a defence greater than the sum of its parts. They crawled slowly over one another, glowing with the kind of attenuated soft colours you find sliding across the surface of soap bubbles. Only more dangerous. There were enough defensive energies stored in the shields to rule out any thought of defusing them. Get one step wrong and the resulting blast would wipe out half the surrounding countryside.
Told you, I said.
Molly gave me a thoughtful look. It s really up to you, Eddie. You can stop being Mr. Snotty, or I can punch you somewhere painful.
The gates are electrified, I said, staring straight ahead. Touch any of those bars and there wouldn t be enough left of you to bury.
I had noticed that, thank you, said Molly.
