It was my turn to look at Molly. “I would like to hear what all this is about. But if you really need to do this . . .”
Molly considered the matter for a worryingly long moment, and then shrugged, and relaxed, just a little. “You’ve fought your family over me before, Eddie. I know where you stand. I’ve no right to ask you to do it again. The Regent . . . can wait. Talk, Armourer.”
I armoured down, and Molly let her magics dissipate into the air. The lab assistants lowered their various weapons, and wandered off for a quiet sit-down and a nice cup of tea, until the shakes wore off. The Armourer shook his head slowly, and put away his clicker.
“I swear to God, you two put years on me. Come with me now, and all will be made clear to you.”
He led the way out of the Armoury, and I hurried after him, with Molly bringing up the rear. I moved in close beside the Armourer.
“You were bluffing with that clicker, weren’t you, Uncle Jack?”
“I’ll never tell,” he said easily. “Good to have you back, nephew.”
We passed quickly through the wide corridors and packed passageways of Drood Hall, past paintings and sculptures of incredible value and antiquity, by names you’d know; the loot of generations of Droods, presented to us by a presumably grateful Humanity. Luxuries and comforts everywhere, wood-panelled walls and thick carpeting, along with objets d’art and objets trouvés that went back centuries. It was good to see the old place again; my bad memories were mostly of the family, rather than the Hall itself. And it was all made much easier by the knowledge that whatever the family said or did, I wasn’t staying.
People rushed back and forth, on missions of their own, and I spotted familiar faces here and there. Most of them seemed surprisingly pleased to see me. I hadn’t been this popular when I was running the family. Perhaps especially then. I was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy. The only time my family is ever pleased to see me is when they need me to do something for them. Usually something really unpleasant and spectacularly dangerous.
“I had no idea I was this popular,” I said dryly to the Armourer.
“You’re not,” he said, not even slowing his pace enough to glance around. “It’s just that something really bad is coming, headed straight for us, and you’re all we’ve got to put in its way.”
“Situation entirely bloody normal, then,” I said.
“Actually, no,” said the Armourer. “This particular situation shows every sign of being so bad it’s beyond the family’s abilities to deal with it. We’ve had to call a Summit Meeting.”
I just blinked at him for a while, utterly astonished. “But . . . that hasn’t been necessary for . . . what? Decades?”
“Oh, at least,” said the Armourer. “That’s how important and scarily dangerous this situation is. Major threat, red alert, atomic batteries to power and turbines to speed. So bad, in fact, that we’re already looking to you to pull one of your last-minute miracle saves out of the hat, one more time. Especially since this is all your fault anyway. You and Molly.”
“I just knew this whole mess would turn out to be our fault,” I said solemnly to Molly. “Didn’t you just know it would all turn out to be our fault?”
“Might be your fault,” Molly said briskly. “Not mine. Nothing is ever my fault. What’s a Summit Meeting?”
“Panic stations,” I said. “Whenever something comes along that’s too big for any single organisation to deal with, they ring the alarm bell and circle the wagons, and send out a call to all the major secret organisations, to talk things over. And see if there’s anything they can do together. And given how much these organisations distrust each other, and hate each other’s guts, you can see how serious things would have to get before they’d agree to talk to each other.”
“Should I be getting worried, about now?” said Molly.
“I passed worried long ago,” I said. “I have already reached deeply disturbed, and am heading into pant-wetting territory.”
“And you’re the one who persuaded me to stay,” said Molly. “I should have gone riding on the Horse.”
We came at last to the Sanctity, the huge open chamber at the heart of Drood Hall. I relaxed a little, despite myself, as I strode through the open double doors and into the massive room. The whole chamber was suffused with a marvellous rose red light that sank into my bones and into my soul, like a blessing. Molly and the Armourer smiled too, because it’s impossible to feel angry or scared or worried for long, in the presence of the Droods’ other-dimensional entity, Ethel. She has no physical presence in our world, or at least none she’ll admit to, but the rosy light is a sign of her presence. She manifests in the Sanctity as a feeling of contentment, love, and protection made real in the world. Ethel gives us our strange-matter armour, and is our very own guardian and protector. Probably. It’s hard to be sure, with an entity that’s downloaded itself into our world from a higher reality. She does seem honestly fond of us.
“Eddie! Molly!” her voice rose happily on the air. “Yes! It’s so good to have you both back again! How was Scotland? Did you bring me back a present?”
“Not as such,” I said. “You’re so hard to buy for, Ethel. What do you give the other-dimensional entity who is everything?”
“It’s the thought that counts,” Ethel said sulkily. “I never get any presents.”
“There might be a nice horsey in your future,” said Molly. “If you’re good.”
“Ooh! Ooh! I love ponies!” said Ethel, immediately cheerful again.
“Let us talk about the Summit Meeting,” I said determinedly. “To start with, where’s the rest of the Drood Council?”
“They won’t be joining us,” the Armourer said immediately. “They don’t need to be here. The debating is over. All future decisions will be made at the Summit.”
“I’m still not clear on why this Summit is so necessary,” said Molly. “I thought you Droods decided everything that mattered, and all the other groups just . . . specialised?”
“We do like to give that impression,” said the Armourer. “And a lot of the time, it’s true. But not always.”
“The Summit invites representatives from all the major secret organisations across the world,” I said. “Including the ones we don’t normally admit exist. Which goes a long way to explaining how rare these Summits are. Most of these groups would rather see the whole planet go up in flames than cooperate with a hated rival. We’ll be lucky if a dozen groups answer the call.”
“This Summit is necessary,” said the Armourer. “The invitations have gone out, and some representatives are already on their way. The current situation is quite possibly the biggest and the worst problem we’ve faced in a long time. . . .”
“Oh, bloody hell,” I said. “It’s not the Loathly Ones again, is it? I thought we’d finished off the Hungry Gods?”
“Nothing so straight forward, I’m afraid,” said the Armourer. He paused then, and his mouth twisted, as though bothered by a bitter taste. “This . . . is all about the Crow Lee Inheritance.”
“What?” I said.
“What kind of inheritance?” said Molly. “Is there any money involved? Only I have been running a bit short lately . . .”
“How can you be running short?” I said. “What about all the gold bullion . . .”
“Hush,” Molly said immediately. “He doesn’t need to know about that.”
“When you two killed The Most Evil Man In The World,” the Armourer said patiently, “all his many followers, enemies, and rivals started fighting among themselves over who would gain control of what Crow Lee left behind. His hidden hoard of secrets, unimaginable wealth, objects of power, blackmail material . . . etc., etc. We’ve had to send field agents rushing back and forth all over the world, stopping warring forces and stamping out supernatural bush-fires before they can spread. In secret bases and subterranean galleries, in every major city you can think of, the word is spreading . . . that there is one hell of a prize to be won. We’re being run ragged just trying to keep a lid on things, and the real war hasn’t even started yet. The Major Players and Individuals of Note are holding back, for the moment, letting the lesser forces exhaust themselves on each other, but that won’t last. Things are already bad, but they’re going to get much worse.”