side, and given that a whole lot of people thought there might be something or even someone trapped within the reflection, I made a point of handing the damaged mirror over to the Armourer first chance I got, with strict instructions to drop it somewhere secure, like a black hole, if he couldn t mend the thing and make it safe to use. Frankly, I d never expected to see the thing again.
But here it was, back in my hand. And completely uncracked. The Glass was clear and unmarked, as though it had never seen any damage at all.
I didn t know the Merlin Glass could speak, Molly said doubtfully. Let alone call out to you.
Maybe it never had anything to say before, I said. But this is a magical instrument, after all, made by Merlin himself.
You said the mirror was cracked. Now it isn t. Could it have repaired itself?
Who knows? I said. I don t think anyone in the family knows for sure anymore why Merlin gave the Glass to us in the first place. Or what it was supposed to do. I never did get around to reading all the instructions Uncle Jack wrote out for me. I have to say I don t think the Armourer did this. I mean, he s good, yes, but he s no Merlin Satanspawn.
I hefted the hand mirror thoughtfully, turning it back and forth and checking every detail. Something about it didn t look right, didn t feel right. I d held it often enough, used it often enough, to know that the weight and heft of it in my hand now was subtly, unnervingly different. Wrong. I said as much to Molly.
Are you sure? she said immediately. I mean, it has been repaired. There are bound to be some differences.
It s not that. I ve handled the bloody thing often enough to know that something s not right about it! It s never something you just take for granted; with an artefact this powerful, it s like juggling a live hand grenade every time you use it.
I turned the hand mirror over and studied the design on the back. The silver scrollwork was definitely different. I showed it to Molly, and she traced the raised edges with a fingertip.
There s some kind of inscription worked into the design, but I m damned if I can make head or tail of it, she said finally. Not Celtic, not Sumerian not Kandarian or Enochian It is vaguely familiar, but I can t get my head around it.
The design has changed, I said. But I couldn t tell you how.
Put it away for now, said Molly. It s enough that we ve got it and the enemy missed it. We re here to look for weapons. Remember?
I slipped the Merlin Glass into the special pocket dimension I keep in one of my jacket pockets. I always like to have somewhere secure about me to store dangerous things. If only so I can get at them quickly in an emergency and throw them at other people. I breathed a little more easily with the Merlin Glass safely stored away, and looked at Molly.
Speaking of horribly powerful things that the world is undoubtedly better off without I ve been thinking about the Forbidden Weapons. I need to be sure they re still secure within the Armageddon Codex.
Molly looked at me sharply. You don t really think the enemy could have got into that. Do you?
I don t know what to think anymore, I said. But given that we are talking about weapons so powerful my family locked them away, only to be used when reality itself is under threat
We should take a look, said Molly.
So I led the way, to the very far end of the Armoury, to the final and very off-limits stone chamber. The Armageddon Codex is kept in a very private, very separate pocket dimension, for maximum security. To get to it you have to pass through the Lion s Jaws a giant stone carving of a lion s snarling head, complete with mane, perfect in every detail. Not stylised in any way, it looks like the real thing, only some twenty feet tall and almost as wide. The Lion s Jaws are carved out of a dark, blue-veined stone, so long ago that no one now remembers who did the work. It s a lion to the life; the eyes seem to glare, the mouth seems to snarl and the whole thing seems ready to lunge forward at any moment and have your head off. To open the Codex, you have to pass through the Jaws, and if you don t have the proper clearances at best, they won t open. Rumour has it that if you so much as put your hand in the Lion s Jaws and you re not pure of heart, the Jaws will bite your hand right off. The Armourer had assured me that this was just a story to keep young Droods from messing with the thing for a dare, but I wasn t sure I believed him. The Lion s Jaws always looked hungry.
You want to try opening it? said Molly, who knew no fear.
I don t have the key.
Who needs a key when you have me?
No, Molly, I said very firmly. I m not doing anything that might upset it without the Armourer present. He s the only one who knows the correct Words to access the Codex. I just need you to use your magics to make sure no one s pressured him into opening it. Make sure the Jaws are still closed and the seals haven t been compromised. You can do that, can t you?
Molly sniffed loudly and gave me a withering glare, which wasn t actually an answer. She struck a witchy pose, ran her hands through a series of smooth mystical gestures, and muttered meaningfully under her breath. I m pretty sure a lot of it was just for show, to make a point, but I had enough sense not to ask. Molly stopped abruptly and shook her head firmly.
The Jaws are still firmly closed. No one s even tried to open them. And if you could See the layers upon layers of protections laid down on this thing, you wouldn t try to open it, either. This is some seriously strong shit, Eddie. If the enemy had tried to force their way in, or even just meddle with the seals, all that would be left of them would be a series of greasy stains on the floor here.
Good to know, I said. All that matters is that the Armageddon Codex is secure.
Yes, but we can t get to them, either! said Molly. The weapons of the Codex are lost forever! No more Oath Breaker, Winter s Sorrow, the Time Hammer and the Juggernaut Jumpsuit! The most powerful weapons in the world Just think what we could have done with them!
Exactly, I said. The mood I m in, I couldn t be trusted with them. I would blow the world apart, if that was the only way of taking my enemy down. No. It s better this way. With the Armourer gone, no one can get to them. I think the world will be just that little bit safer, with the Armageddon Codex locked away forever. It s enough that our enemies don t have them.
Molly pouted. You re just no fun sometimes.
I patted the Lion s Jaws fondly with one hand, and then a sudden blast of energy threw me backwards. Molly caught me before I could fall, while a great Voice said Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Molly moved quickly to stand between me and the Lion s Jaws, shielding me with her body, her hands surrounded by flaring energies. And then she stopped and lowered her sputtering hands, as a vision appeared before us. A middle-aged man in a white lab coat, looking seriously at both of us. A message from out of the Past. I could tell at once that it was just a recording; the vision was dim, fading in and out and ragged round the edges but when it spoke, the Voice was perfectly clear. By touching the Lion s Jaws with a Drood hand, I d triggered a hidden message from the Armourer. My heart actually leapt for a moment at the thought that finally someone was going to tell me what had happened here. And then I looked again, at the man in the lab coat, and I realised it wasn t going to be that simple.
The man before me was clearly the Armourer, but it wasn t my uncle Jack. It was my uncle James.
At first I almost didn t recognise him. Uncle James had always been the finest field agent the Droods ever produced. So successful he d created his own legend apart from the family. In good places and bad, in villains hideouts and disreputable bars, at the highest levels and in filthy back alleyways, they all knew his name: the Grey Fox. Tall and dark and handsome and always smartly dressed, my uncle James walked up and down the hidden world, writing the secret histories that the rest of the world is better off not knowing about. Keeping the world safe, one day at a time. The best of the best. Until he turned against what the family was supposed to represent and stand for, and Molly and I had to kill him. My favourite uncle, James had been almost a father to me. But he would have killed me in that last vicious duel if Molly hadn t got to him first with the Torc Cutter.
He looked a very different man as the Armourer. His lab coat was impeccably white and clean, which was more than Uncle Jack had ever managed, but James looked tired and stooped. He looked older. More weighed down by long service and hard grind and responsibilities he could never trust to anyone else. His hair, which had always been proudly jet-black for as long as I had known him, was mostly grey now. His eyes were deep set, and heavy lines had been driven deep into his face. This Uncle James had known hard times, and it showed. He seemed to look straight at me as he spoke, and his manner was harsh and strained, as though he knew he didn t have much
