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"So," said Molly, entirely businesslike again. "Do you know of anymore shortcuts that can take us from here to the Sanctity? Preferably one that doesn’t involve being chased by a whole bunch of hungry spiders with severe glandular problems?"
"Unfortunately, no," I said. "The Sanctity is sealed off from the rest of the Hall by really powerful forces. Partly to protect the Heart from outside attack, and partly to protect the family from the Heart’s various emissions and energies. You can access the Sanctity only by approaching it via the single officially authorised route. Anything else will trigger the Hall’s internal security responses…and we really don’t want to do that. If you thought the defences in the grounds were bad, they’re nothing compared to what’s inside the Hall. Death could be the kindest thing that would happen to us."
"God, you’re depressing to be around sometimes," said Molly. "Surely the official route will be heavily guarded by now?"
"Of course. And don’t call me—"
"Don’t you dare."
"Sorry. Imminent death and danger always brings out my flippant side. No, we’re going to have to fight our way through a whole army of armoured Droods just to get to the Sanctity."
Molly produced Torc Cutter from a hidden pocket in her dress and scowled darkly at the ugly shears. "They’ll probably pack the corridors with ca
"There’s already been one death in the family too many. There has to be another way…"
Molly waited patiently while I thought fiercely, coming up with plan after plan and turning them all down. The family had had centuries to come up with counters to every possible way of taking the corridors by storm. The corridors…I looked at Molly and gri
"When I’m in the armour, I’m stronger, faster, more powerful. Stronger by far than the fragile world I move in. So why walk along the corridors, going this way and that to reach my destination, when there’s a much quicker way? Why not walk in a straight line to the Sanctity, smashing my way through everything in my path?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," said Molly, her eyes sparkling.
I slipped Oath Breaker through my back belt and armoured up. My Sight showed me the straight line I needed from where I was to where the Sanctity was. I turned to the wood-panelled wall on my left and punched a great jagged hole through the heavy teak. I pulled my golden hand back, and a whole panel came away. I stuck both hands into the gap and tore the wall apart with the armour’s strength. The dense wood ripped and tore as though it was paper. Molly jumped up and down, cheering and clapping her hands together delightedly. I forced my way through the wall and into the room beyond, and Molly hurried through after me.
The room was full of couches and settees and love seats in various periods and styles, all of them pleasantly comfortable and cosy. A perfect place to relax and indulge in quiet contemplation. I strode across the room, kicking the heavy furniture out of my way, headed for the next wall. Molly followed behind, murmuring, "Typical man…" just loudly enough for me to hear. And then the door burst open, and a dozen armoured Droods charged into the room, splintering the door frame as they all tried to squeeze through at once. It was obvious from their haste and clumsiness, as well as the haphazard way they grouped themselves before me, that none of them had any combat experience. Probably just house Droods, pressed into service. Thrown into my path to slow me down until more experienced fighters could get to me here. Poor bastards. Just more i
"Get out of my way," I said, and it wasn’t difficult at all to sound cold and nasty and dangerous.
Give them credit, none of them backed off. One Drood actually managed a step forward. From his voice he was young, but even though he had to be scared shitless his tone was firm and steady.
"We can’t let you pass. You’re rogue. We fight for the honour of the family."
"So do I," I said. "If you only knew. Stand aside. You know you can’t stop me. I’m field trained."
The young Drood didn’t move. "Anything for the family."
I nodded slowly, understanding, acknowledging them all. "Of course. Whatever happens, I’m proud of all of you."
I charged forward and slammed the young Drood out of my way with a single backhand that lifted him up off his feet and sent him flying across the room. The other Droods hesitated, frozen where they were by uncertainty and shock, and then I was in and among them. Even house Droods have to go through basic training when they’re kids, but most never raise a hand in anger in their lives, in armour or out of it. They never stood a chance. I knocked them down and kicked them away, picked them up and threw them this way and that. They couldn’t be hurt inside their armour, but it knocked all the pepper out of them. A few tried to make a fight out of it, coming at me with wildly swinging fists. I picked them up and threw them at walls, and they crashed right through the woodwork. Molly used her magic to collapse the walls on top of them, pi
I smashed through the opposite wall and into the next room, and then the next wall and the next room, or the next corridor, on and on, heading always in a straight line through the structure of the Hall. At least the Sanctity was in the central building, and not one of the other wings, or it could have taken me hours. Walls that had stood for centuries fell under my armoured strength and cold, cold anger, and though more Droods came to meet me, in armour and out, and with all kinds of weapons, none of them came close to stopping me.
Occasionally the odds would get a bit heavy, as family members filled a room before me, but still none of them had field experience, and it was child’s play to outthink and outmanoeuvre them. I could have killed so many of them, but I didn’t. It wasn’t necessary. Sometimes I fooled them into fighting each other; one golden form looks much like another. Sometimes I buried them under piles of furniture or wrapped them in precious tapestries they didn’t dare tear. Once Molly stopped an entire crowd by threatening to overturn a glass display case full of delicate china, and a dozen voices cried out in horrified protest.
"Those pieces are irreplaceable!" cried an anguished voice as Molly tilted the case slowly so the china pieces slid jerkily across the shelves.
"They’re priceless! Historical treasures!"
"Then why are you hoarding them for yourselves?" snapped Molly.
"Why aren’t they in a museum so everyone can enjoy them? Back the hell off, or I’ll create a china jigsaw like you’ve never seen!"
"We’re backing, we’re backing!" cried the Droods. "Barbarian! Philistine!"
They all got out of our way in a hurry. Molly and I picked up the display case and carried it across the room, and the Droods scattered before us, crying out piteously for us to be more careful. I smashed a hole in the wall and stepped through, and Molly dragged the case into position to block the hole. We laughed, secure in the knowledge that the Droods would spend ages carefully moving the case aside so as not to risk damaging the contents.
More Droods in the corridor beyond. And these at least had seen some training. They held themselves well, all ten of them, fa