Daemons Are Forever

“Well, well, this is a surprise. Harry Drood, present at what is supposed to be a private meeting of my I

“I was invited,” he said easily. His mouth was still swollen and bruised from where I’d hit him. He could have had that fixed easily, but right now it was more useful as it was. As visible proof of my temper and brutality. It certainly didn’t stop him smiling triumphantly at me.

“Harold has a right to be heard,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“I see,” I said. “And is that what all of you feel?”

“He was there with you, when it all went wrong,” said Pe

“Oh, I see a lot of things,” I said. “I should have remembered that betrayal and backstabbing are just business as usual in this family.”

The Armourer stirred uneasily. “Don’t be like that, Eddie. You know I’m on your side. But we need the facts as to what happened. And we have to be seen to be impartial if our decisions are to be accepted by the family as a whole. It may be that Harry can tell us things about the battle that you can’t. We’re going to need all the information we can put together, if we’re going to take on more Loathly Ones in their nests. We’re not here to judge you…”

“Aren’t you?” I said. “No, perhaps not you, Uncle Jack. But they are. They’ve already made up their minds. I don’t have time for this, people. There are things I need to be doing. For the good of the family.”

“Don’t you dare walk out on us!” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“Oh, blow it out your ear, Cyril,” I said.

And I stalked out of the Sanctity without looking back, even when first the Armourer and then Pe

I strode through the corridors and co

Still, mad as I was, a part of me stood back, shaking its head and saying This isn’t like you. You always believed in don’t get mad, get even. When the Matriarch denounced me as a rogue, and sentenced me to death, I didn’t lose my rag; I went straight into pla

Because I screwed up. I got my people killed. My family. And nothing else mattered. By the time I got to the front door, the anger had died down to a dull throb, and I was thinking more clearly. Or at least clearly enough that I was more concerned about Molly than myself. I hadn’t taken her seriously enough, when she said she couldn’t live in the Hall; that she needed to live among living things, in the wild. I knew she was having trouble adjusting, but I thought she’d get over it… now I had to wonder if she ever would. If she ever could. This was a woman used to living in her own private forest, after all. While I … had to stay here, in the Hall, or risk losing control of the family.

Martha had already told me to my face that she was only waiting for me to make a mess of things, so she could come sweeping back and restore the Matriarchy. And what then? The restoring of all the old ways? Gold armour instead of silver, paid for by the sacrifice of children? Back to the family ru

I could lose Molly. The only woman I ever loved.

I came to the front entrance, strode through the front door, and then stopped and looked down the long gravel path as an ambulance materialised suddenly out of thin air. This rather caught my attention, as nothing is supposed to be able to materialise in our grounds unless we give permission well in advance. Which mostly we don’t. The ambulance came roaring up the path to the Hall, and then skidded to a halt right in front of me, spraying my shins with flying gravel. The sign on the side of the ambulance said Dr. Syn’s Fly by Night Delivery Service. The cab door opened and the driver got out. A cheerful sort in the traditional starched white uniform. He strode over to me, thrust a clipboard and pen into my hands, and saluted briskly.

“Sign here, squire. One looney to go, and no I don’t answer questions. I just drop people off and leg it before they can turn nasty. Sign there, please, on the dotted line. You are acknowledging delivery of one William Dominic Drood, also known as Oddly John. And get a move on, squire; I’ve got this American gentleman and his giant rabbit to drop off yet.”

I signed Harry’s name where indicated, and handed back the clipboard. I’ve always been a cautious sort. The driver saluted me again, went around to the back of the ambulance, unlocked a very heavy padlock, and pulled open the doors with a hearty cry of, “Come on out you lovely honey, you’re home.” William Drood stepped out of the ambulance, blinking in the bright summer light, and the driver took him firmly by one arm and brought him over to me.

“Here you are, squire. One headbanger, as ordered. Hours of fun for the whole family. Try not to lose him; you wouldn’t believe the paperwork if I have to chase him down again. Have a nice day! Forgetting you already!”

One more salute and he was back in the cab again. The ambulance screeched off down the gravel path and disappeared in midscreech. The day seemed suddenly, blessedly, quiet.

“What an appalling cheerful person,” said William. “I really must remember to send him a note of thanks. Inside a letter bomb.”

“Welcome back, William,” I said. “Welcome home.”

He nodded vaguely and looked around him. He didn’t seem particularly happy to be back. He did look better than the last time I’d seen him, alone in his cell at the Happy Daze sanatorium. They’d dressed him up in a good suit before sending him home, though he looked distinctly ill at ease in it. In fact, he looked generally uneasy. His face seemed somehow in between expressions, and his eyes were as haunted as ever. As though he was still seeing strange worlds and alternate realities out of the corner of his eyes. And given who he was … I said his name again, and his gaze slowly returned to me. I put out my hand, and after a pause he shook it solemnly.

“Do you remember me?” I said.

“Of course I remember you, Edwin. I’m not completely gaga. You came to see me in … that place. You got a message to me, saying it was safe to come home again. So here I am. I do hope you’re right, Edwin.”

“It’s good to have you back, where you belong,” I said.

“Is it?” he said vaguely, looking at the Hall behind me as though he’d never seen it before. “It doesn’t feel like home. But then it didn’t, even before I left. I found something out, you see, and then nothing seemed the same anymore. I can’t even say I feel like William Dominic Drood, either. I think I was happier as Oddly John. Nobody ever expected anything of him. I think perhaps … I left William here, when I went away. Maybe now I’m back, he’ll come back too. If it’s safe. I saw something, you see, in the Sanctity…”