“No, Eddie,” the Armourer said firmly. “That’s not a road you want to go down. Whatever Frankenstein’s techniques might bring back, it wouldn’t be your Molly. Or my mother. All that bastard ever really did was make the dead stand up and walk around, and I don’t remember anyone ever thanking him for it. There’s nothing in that Castle or anywhere else that can help us. Dead is dead, Eddie, even in our world. Because all of the alternatives are worse.”
“I know, Uncle Jack. I know.”
“Stick to what you can do,” the Armourer said kindly. “The good thing about our work is that it never ends, so we always have something to distract ourselves with. Now, there’s no way you can teleport directly into Castle Frankenstein. Not through all those shields. Whatever got through would eventually arrive as a small pile of steaming red and purple blobby bits.”
“The torc couldn’t protect me?” I said. “Not even if I went through in full armour?”
“That’s the problem,” said the Armourer. “The shields would let you through, but stop the torc. Your body would pass through . . . probably piece by piece. And no, you can’t use the Merlin Glass, either. If an artefact that powerful were to come tap tap tapping on the Castle’s shields, it would set off every alarm in the place. You can’t sneak past defences like these.”
“All right,” I said. “Let’s see what the Glass can do.”
I summoned it into my hand, and had it show me a view of Castle Frankenstein. But all the mirror could manage was an aerial view, from fairly high up. I winced.
“Forget it,” I said. “I am not falling for that again.”
The Armourer’s ears pricked up. “Again?” he said innocently.
“Don’t ask,” I said. “No, I mean it. Don’t ask. Glass, zoom in and give me the closest image you can.”
The image in the hand mirror loomed swiftly up before me, and then slammed to a halt still some way out. The image flickered back and forth between the real Castle Frankenstein and the Immortals’ illusion, and then the Merlin Glass abruptly shut itself down, and I was left with just a mirror in my hand, showing me my own confused reflection. I shook the mirror hard a few times, and tried half a dozen different command words, but faced with the Immortals’ levels of protection the Merlin Glass had given up, and was now clearly sulking. I sent it back to its subspace pocket to think things over.
“Okay,” I said to the Armourer. “Defences strong enough to defy the Merlin Glass? I am seriously impressed.”
“Well, don’t forget, the Immortals are older than Merlin,” said the Armourer. “However, they might have the experience, but we are more up to date. Give me a few weeks, and I could put together a package that would let you stroll right through those shields.”
“We don’t have a few weeks,” I said. “I’m going to have to get as close to the Castle as the Glass can get me, and cover the rest of the distance on foot.”
“Only an Immortal can pass safely through the defences,” said the Armourer. “That’s what Rafe said.”
“And Rafe is going to get us in,” I said. “Because Rafe is going to make me into an Immortal. Remember those clever little cuff links you gave me, Uncle Jack? The Chameleon Codex?”
I went back to the diagnostic chair, and flipped back the sheet to reveal Rafe’s damaged head. Half of it had been blow away by my bullets, but the face was still mostly there. Blood was still dripping from his chin, and his remaining eye stared at me with cold accusation. Like I gave a damn. I looked at Rafe dispassionately for a moment, and then ran my right cuff link swiftly down one side of his face. Didn’t get a single blood spot on my cuff. I covered him up again, and when I looked, there wasn’t any blood on the cuff link either. It had eaten it all up, the necessary DNA information now stored and ready for use.
“You’re getting cold, Eddie,” said the Armourer. “I don’t think I like that. Not in you.”
“Molly’s gone,” I said, looking at him steadily. “I was going to be free, and have a life, with her. She was going to save me from my family. Now she’s gone, and all I have left is duty and responsibility. And revenge. It’s not much . . . but it’s something.”
“The family’s not such a bad thing, Eddie,” said the Armourer. “It means you’re never alone. I lost my mother today, and my only son a long time ago, but I still have the family. I have you, and you have me.”
“The Immortals took away my hope when they took away my Molly, Uncle Jack. I will make them pay for that; make them pay in blood and suffering. I had a life and a future, and now all I have is the family, and what it means to be a Drood. A life in service, to a war that never ends. A cause that consumes you, and an early death for reasons you’ll probably never understand. Well, I can live with that, if there’s revenge to be had along the way. Let’s get to work, Uncle Jack. It’s all I’ve got now.”
“There’s one obvious dropping-off point,” said the Armourer, his face and his voice all business again. “The fake Frankenstein Castle—now just called . . . the Castle Hotel. The tourist trap, remember? Only a mile and a half down the road from the real thing, next to a small village. You could be just another tourist, attracted by the name and the legend. They must see enough of those. Hmmm. Wait a minute . . .” He searched quickly through several drawers, muttering to himself, and finally came up with a slim folder. “This should do you nicely. Standard field agent’s package, for sudden intrusion into foreign climes. All the paperwork you’ll need: passport, visa, travel documents, credit cards . . . the usual. I always keep a few basic sets handy. What name do you want to use?”
“Shaman Bond,” I said. “He has a reputation for just turning up anywhere.”
The Armourer grunted, and quickly customised the necessary documents. He passed them over to me, and I settled them here and there about my person. Nothing like a bunch of fake documents to make you feel like a real field agent. The Armourer fixed me with a firm stare.
“You probably won’t need most of them, but it would be stupid to get yourself picked up by the locals over something so routine. And use the credit cards sparingly, we’re on a budget. And get receipts, if you want to claim expenses.”
“Shaman Bond’s a good cover,” I said. “I’m comfortable being Shaman. I’ll book into the hotel, spy out the lay of the land, and if it looks clear I’ll head straight for Castle Frankenstein. And then I’ll use the cuff links to turn me into Rafe, and walk right in.”
“You’ll need a cover story as Rafe,” said the Armourer. “To explain your escape from us. They must know we captured him by now.”
“Easy,” I said. “I’ll just say I stole the Merlin Glass, and stepped through from the Hall to the Castle. They’ll be so overjoyed at the prospect of getting their hands on such an unexpected prize, they won’t even think to challenge my version of events until it’s far too late.”
“You can’t actually give them the Glass, Eddie! Once it’s out of your possession, there’s no guarantee you’d ever get it back! I don’t even want to think what the Immortals could do with the Merlin Glass!”
“Will you relax, Uncle Jack? Breathe deeply, and unclench. I have done fieldwork before. Promising them the Glass is one thing, delivering it quite another. I have no intention of handing it over to them; I’ll just say I have it stashed safely somewhere nearby. You know, standard operational bullshit. I’m very good at bullshit.”
“I’ve always thought so,” said the Armourer. He looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you think you’ll find Doctor Delirium and Tiger Tim with the Immortals? Could they have the Apocalypse Door at Castle Frankenstein?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Dom Langford said he saw the Door at one of the Doctor’s bases. But, who can be sure of anything, where the Immortals are concerned? Dom never actually saw where he was . . . But at the very least, I should find information on its location at the Castle. The Immortals will know.”
“Information is what we need, first and foremost,” the Armourer said sternly. “Revenge can wait. Let’s put a stop to the immediate threat of the Apocalypse Door, and save the world; and then we can decide how best to drop the hammer on the Immortals.”