I armoured down, and rose slowly to my feet. I felt horribly weary; bone deep, soul deep. Molly came over and held me carefully, as though I was fragile, and might break. She understood what I was feeling; she understood about family. But she also knew there was still work to be done, so she let me go and stood at my side. I looked at Doctor Delirium, still half hidden behind his Door. He flinched away from my gaze, but I just stood where I was, and beckoned for him to come out.
"You don't dare touch me!" he said, his voice high and shrill. His eyes kept going to Tiger Tim's headless body, and then jerking away. "You'd better not even get too close! I've infected myself with every deadly disease known to man, and several I made up specially. I'm the universal carrier, for everything from typhoid to Ebola, from the black death to green monkey fever. Doesn't affect me at all, but all I have to do is concentrate in a certain way, and my pores will sweat poison, releasing all the deadly germs into the air!"
I looked at Molly. "Does that even sound likely to you?"
"Doesn't matter," said Molly. She strode right over to Doctor Delirium. "I have been to Heaven and Hell and back again, and walked on alien worlds. You really think you've got anything that can touch me?"
As she moved in close the Doctor suddenly whipped out a spray aerosol and blasted its contents right into her face. Molly fell back a step, wiping at her face with a hand, while the Doctor crowed triumphantly.
"That was the Acceleration Drug! Full strength, with all the wonderful new extra ingredients! And you breathed it in! It's running through your system now, speeding you up, faster and faster till it burns you up from the inside out! You'll live a whole lifetime in just a few minutes, and I'll watch you die of old age right in front of me!"
Molly swept the last few tears from her eyes. Doctor Delirium fell suddenly silent as he realised she was laughing.
"You need to get out and about more," she said cheerfully. "I'm Molly Metcalf! I take nastier stuff than that for fun!"
"Don't laugh at me," whispered Doctor Delirium. "Don't you laugh at me!"
Molly reached out and grabbed him by an ear. She hauled him out from behind the Door and walked him back to me. I looked at her, and she let go of his ear.
"Don't be afraid, Doctor," I said. "I think there's been enough killing. It doesn't always have to end in blood. Forget the Door, and its voices. They lied. It's what they do. Give up on your revenge; what did it ever get you, except a life on your own? Come back with me to Drood Hall. Put your genius to work for us. Use our labs to create all those cures you used to believe in. Be the good man you originally wanted to be, before Methuselah gave you money, and made you into the kind of man he wanted you to be. Come with me, Doctor. It's not too late."
"I won't give up the Door," said Doctor Delirium. "It's mine. It's my revenge on you all. I can't give that up. It's all I've got." He looked at Molly, and his face was utterly empty. "You shouldn't have laughed at me."
And he went for her, lunging forward with a knife in his hand. Molly snapped her fingers hard, and Doctor Delirium disappeared. A very warty green and yellow toad fell to the floor, and crouched there, looking around in a bemused kind of way. Molly nudged it with her foot, and it hardly reacted.
"He can go back to the Amazon rain forest," Molly said briskly. "Where he'll feel right at home." She came over to join me, and prodded me in the chest with one finger. "Offering to take Tiger Tim back for trial? Offering the Doctor a job at the Hall? After everything they've done, and meant to do? You're getting soft, Eddie."
"There's been enough killing," I said. "I'm sick of it. I saw you die, and I have avenged you. But I never want to feel this way again."
"I know," said Molly. "I know. My knight in shining armour." She caressed my face with one hand, and her touch was very gentle.
"How very sentimental," said Methuselah. "You should have dealt with me first, you know. I always was the most dangerous."
And when Molly and I turned to look at him, he was gone. And so was the Apocalypse Door in its teleport ring. Molly pointed abruptly at the virtual view on the wall, and there he was, standing in the snow and ice, one hand resting possessively on the Door.
"Oh shit," said Molly.
"Can't take your eyes off the bastard for a second," I said. "Quick, Molly, teleport us after him before he can open the Door."
"How?" said Molly. "I've no idea where that is! It's just a view from a hidden camera; what we're looking at could be just outside the base, or somewhere miles from here! I can't jump blind!"
"Oh shit," I said.
"The Glass!" Molly said quickly. "Remember how it got us through the invisible force shield?"
I grinned. "I always said you were the smart one."
I called up the Merlin Glass and slapped it flat against the virtual view. The hand mirror clattered fiercely against the image, and then grew suddenly in size to make a doorway. The Glass was apparently a great believer in lateral thinking. Which I would have found worrying if I'd had the time, but I didn't. I could feel the freezing cold rushing through the open door. I grabbed Molly by the hand, and we rushed through the door, back into the freezing Antarctic air.
I armoured up, and Molly raised her shields. I couldn't help noticing they didn't look as strong and certain as they had before. The Apocalypse Door was standing firmly upright, in a circle of steaming melted snow. Methuselah stood before the Door, holding up the awful Hand of Glory he'd made from the severed hand of an angel. The dead white skin glowed fiercely, brighter than the sun itself, and as the Immortal chanted something in a tongue so old I didn't even recognise it, the candles made from the Hand's fingers ignited one by one. Somehow I found the time to wonder whether that was the language the Immortal had originally spoken, when he bargained with the Heart for eternal life.
"Where the hell did the Hand come from?" said Molly. "He didn't have it before. I would have noticed."
"He must have a subspace pocket, like me," I said.
"Oh, I want one of those…"
Methuselah let go of the Hand and backed away, and the brightly shining Hand hung on the air before the Door. Its fingers moved slowly, flexing through a series of mystical gestures, significant and compelling. It hurt just to watch them, as though they were moving through more than three dimensions.
"He's preprogrammed the bloody thing!" said Molly. "All he has to do now is say the right Words, and it's all over! From the Apocalypse Door to the Paradise Door, in a series of easy gestures. I think I'll believe that when I see it, but… Look; you take the Immortal, I'll take the Hand. I don't care what it's made from, it's magic, and that puts it in my territory. If it's magic, I can work my will on it. That's what being a witch is all about."
"Who are you trying to convince?" I said. "You or me? Just how much magic do you have left, after everything you've done?"
"Enough! Now be a good boy, and go hit the Immortal."
"Love to."
Molly charged forward, skipping lightly over the snow as though she was playing hopscotch. She grabbed the gesturing Hand of Glory with both of her hands, and tried to stop the fingers from moving. When that failed, she tried to pull the Hand away from the Door, but it wouldn't budge so much as an inch. So she forced one of her hands inside the Hand, and arm-wrestled it. The brightly glowing Hand slammed shut, crushing Molly's hand inside it. I heard the bones crack and break, saw blood fly on the air; but although Molly's whole body convulsed, she never made a sound.