Daemons Are Forever

“If this is a victory, I’d hate to see a defeat,” I said. “Whatever temporary success we achieved, we paid for with our dearest blood. Those people followed me into battle because they believed in me. They were the chosen ones, who’d earned their place through merit, and hard work. I promised them victory and glory, and a chance to be heroes. This…This was supposed to be a demonstration of Drood power. No one was supposed to get hurt. Now most of those brave souls are gone, and the family will seem more vulnerable than ever.”

“So…what are you going to do?” said Molly.

“I have no choice anymore. Every Drood must have a torc, and the armour that goes with it. Whether I think they can be trusted or not. The family must be protected. If need be, even from me and my stupid ideas.”

“Don’t!” Molly said sharply. “Don’t start doubting your own judgement, just because one battle went against you. You did everything right. There was no way you could have known about all those other demons, hidden inside the tower.”

She broke off as Harry strode over to confront me. He held his head high, striding like a soldier, his every move full of the arrogance of the utterly self-justified. He knew all the family was watching. He slammed to a halt right in front of me, struck a condemnatory pose, and raised his voice so everyone could hear.

“This is all your fault, Edwin. All of it. I told you your attack force wasn’t big enough. I told you we all needed torcs, if we were to defeat the Loathly Ones. But no, you wouldn’t listen. You knew best. You just had to prove yourself as leader. And now, because of you, because of your pride and arrogance, all those good men and women are dead. Sacrificed on the altar of your ambition!”

“Nice speech, Harry,” I said. “Been practicing it all the way home, have you? I had to go with the information I had. None of this could have been predicted. We’ve never faced anything like this before.”

“Just what I would have expected from you,” said Harry. “Excuses! Face facts, Eddie; you’re just not up to the job. You never were. Even as a field agent, you were deemed so second-rate you were never allowed outside London! If you had any real pride, if you really cared about what was best for the family, you’d step down and let someone more qualified take over.”

“Got someone in mind, have you, Harry?” I said. “Yourself, perhaps?”

“Typical of you, Eddie, to try and make this about personalities,” Harry said grandly. “I don’t want to lead this family; I just want you gone. The Matriarch knew all about you. Knew you weren’t to be trusted with anything that really mattered. That’s why she let you run away from home, because you wouldn’t be missed. We should have hunted you down like any other rogue.”

“I was never a rogue! I worked for the family!” I stepped forwards, my hands clenching into fists.

“Don’t,” Molly said quickly. “It’s what he wants.”

“Yes, listen to your better half,” said Harry, sneering openly now. “You showed your true colours when you shacked up with her. When you had the sheer nerve to bring the infamous Molly Metcalf into our home, the bitch in heat of the wild woods!”

I hit him hard, right in the mouth. He staggered backwards, but didn’t go down. The watching crowd made a series of shocked noises, but no one moved. They were all waiting to see what would happen next, and their eyes were very bright. Harry turned his face, so they could all see the blood on his mouth and chin, and then he armoured up. The silver armour swept over him in a moment, and he stood tall and proud before the family, like an avatar of vengeance. I’d done what he wanted. He’d goaded me into losing my temper, and striking him first. He’d had a long time to plan all this on the way back, to work out just how to manipulate me before the family. I knew all that, knew I was playing his game, and I didn’t care. I needed to hit someone, and Harry would do just fine. I armoured up, and we stepped forward to face each other, both of us reflected in the other’s armour.

“Come on,” said Harry. “Show me what you’ve got. Show me all the dirty tricks you used to murder my father.”

“Love to,” I said. I raised my hands, and long, silver cutting blades grew out of my fists.

“Stop this!” said the Armourer, forcing his way forward through the crowd. “Stop this right now, both of you! Sarjeant-at-Arms, do your duty, dammit!”

Then, and only then, the Sarjeant came forward to separate us. The Armourer was quickly there too, slamming a liver-spotted hand flat against my silver chest, and glaring fiercely into my featureless silver mask. The Sarjeant looked at Harry, and of course Harry immediately armoured down. Like a good little boy, a respectful member of the family. He’d played me, right from the start. He’d never expected to actually have to fight. He knew someone would step in to stop it. What mattered was that he’d made me look bad in front of the whole family. He flashed me a brief triumphant smile, and then strode off into the Hall, along with the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Probably to make his report to the Matriarch. No one actually applauded him, but there was a general murmur of support within the crowd.

I armoured down, and nodded shamefacedly to the Armourer. He growled something under his breath and shook his head.

“Get inside, boy. The situation’s beyond saving here.”

I looked around me at the watching family. It wasn’t that long ago they’d gathered together to cheer my name, as the family’s saviour. And now they looked at me like I was some kind of war criminal. It wasn’t just that I’d lost a battle. I’d disappointed them by not being their perfect hero after all. I took out the Merlin Glass, shook it out to full size, and stepped through into the Armoury. Molly and the Armourer hurried through after me, and I shut the Glass down again. The weight of the family’s disapproving eyes was gone, and we were alone in the Armoury.

“You know, Eddie,” said Molly. “It seems to me that you’re getting just a bit dependent on that mirror.”

“Nonsense,” the Armourer said briskly. “That’s why I gave him the Glass—to get him out of close scrapes. Devices are meant to be used. How about I make us a nice cup of tea? And I’m pretty sure there’s an unopened box of Jaffa Cakes around here somewhere.” He stopped abruptly and looked at me. “You know, you look like shit, boy. Are you hurt? Injured?”

“No,” I said. “All that slaughter and butchery, and I came through it all without a scratch. Of course I did; I had the family armour. The others didn’t, and the Loathly Ones tore them apart.”

“Never look back, boy,” the Armourer said gruffly. “Concentrate on what you’re going to do next. Doesn’t matter if you lose a battle, as long as you win the war. Take a look at the family record; we’ve known our fair share of defeats. Of course, you have to go back quite a way to find anything like this…But that’s because the family’s grown soft and complacent and cautious, down the years, leaving all the dirty work to the field agents. Only picking the small battles, the small victories we were sure we could win. That’s why the Loathly Ones have been able to stick around this long and build up their numbers. Never would have been allowed, not even a century ago. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, Eddie, and think! Did you learn anything useful from this first encounter? Anything you can use, the next time you go up against the bastards?”

“Maybe,” I said. I felt suddenly tired, and sat down on the nearest chair. Molly looked worried, and I gave her a reassuring smile. Though it couldn’t have been that reassuring, because she looked even more worried. I fished inside my jacket pocket and brought out the Kandarian stone amulet Molly had recovered from the wreckage of the tower. I handed the ugly thing over to the Armourer, who studied it closely for a while, and then sat down beside me and studied the thing even more closely under a powerful magnifying glass. Molly pulled up a chair and sat down beside me. I barely noticed. I was focussed on the amulet. I needed it to be something, something important, to justify what we’d been through to get it. The Armourer prodded and rubbed at the gray stone amulet with his broad heavy engineer’s fingers, muttering to himself all the while.