Daemons Are Forever

“It’s all right, William,” I said quickly. “I know what you saw. What you found out. Everyone knows now. The Heart is dead, destroyed, and all its evil with it. We have new armour now, from a new source. There’s nothing here to be afraid of anymore.”

He looked at me sadly. “That would be nice. But we’re Droods. So there’s always something to be afraid of. Comes with the territory. I’ve been afraid of so many things, for such a long time now.”

“Is there anyone particular in the family you want to see?” I said, carefully changing the subject. “Anyone you’ve missed?”

“No,” said William after a moment. “Never had any family of my own. And old friends … so long ago, it seems. I don’t think I want them to see me like this. Not…properly myself yet. Whoever that turns out to be.”

“I know what you need,” I said firmly. “You were the best librarian the family ever had; and I’ve got a wonderful surprise for you. We have rediscovered the old library, after all these years. We need someone like you to put the place in order.”

William looked at me sharply, his face intent and focused for the first time. “The old library? But that was destroyed by fire, centuries ago!”

“No,” I said, gri

I took him back through the Hall, and he gawked around him like a tourist, as though he’d never seen any of it before. Perhaps he’d forgotten it all, in his efforts to forget what he’d seen in the Sanctity. He’d had to forget, to survive. He’d put himself in the asylum, hiding from the family and what he’d discovered about it. He pretended to be mad to get in, but as the years went by he had to pretend less and less. He’d been gone so long that none of the people we passed along the way recognised him, and he showed no interest in talking with any of them. I took him through to the library, and he brightened immediately. He walked back and forth among the stacks, smiling as he recognised this book or that, and tut-tuting at the state of the place. He was standing straighter now, his gaze was sharper, and he walked with more confidence. Back on his own ground, more of who he used to be was coming back to him.

Already he was looking and sounding more like the librarian I remembered as a child.

When I thought he was ready, I took him to the portrait of the old library hanging on the rear wall, opened it up with the right Words, and we stepped through the portrait and into the old library itself. The huge depository of ancient family lore and forgotten world history. William took a deep breath, staring at the miles and miles of shelves with eyes as wide and delighted as a child. Stacks and stacks of books, manuscripts, scrolls, and even a few stone tablets, stretching away into the distance for as far as the eye could see. William smiled suddenly, and it was like his whole face came alive at last. I smiled too, glad I’d finally done something right. The Hall might not feel like home to him, but the old library certainly did.

“To get you started,” I said casually, “you might like to do a little research for me. I need everything you can find on Kandarian culture, and in particular any old summoning rites concerning Beings called the Invaders. Take your time. End of the day would be fine.”

“I know, I know,” he said, in a typically snotty librarian’s voice. “Nothing changes. You want the impossible, and you want it to a schedule. Am I expected to do this all by myself, or do I have any staff?”

“You have a staff of one,” I said. “Namely, the current librarian. Rafe? Rafe, where are you?”

A head popped out of the stacks further down, a hand waved cheerfully, and a pleasant young chap with a bright, beaming face hurried over to join us. I liked Rafe. The previous librarian had resigned his post when I took over; not just a Zero Tolerance member but also one of the Matriarch’s cronies, he refused to serve under me. I was forced to promote his assistant to full librarian. He hadn’t done too badly. It helped that he loved his job, and practically went into ecstasies when he first saw the old library. He was currently trying to track down an index, so we could get some idea of just what we had on our hands.

“Hi!” he said to William, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “I’m Rafe. Short for Raphael, which I never use. I am not a turtle. You must be William. You’re a legend, in librarian circles. Which, admittedly, aren’t as big as they might be. But! Here you are, back again, just in time to help me make sense of all this mess. No one’s used this place in centuries, and it shows. I said I needed expert help, but you could have knocked me down with a feather when Edwin said he could get you! And here you are! Really looking forward to working with you!”

“Don’t worry,” I said to William. “He calms down a bit once he gets used to you. And the Ritalin in his tea helps.”

“Let’s get to work,” said William.

And he strode off into the stacks, not looking back at either of us. Rafe nodded quickly to me, gri

With any luck, putting the old library in order would help William put himself back in order too.

When I stepped back through the portal into the main library, Pe

“You’re not an easy man to track down, Eddie. If someone hadn’t happened to mention they saw William Drood in the corridors, I’d never have thought to look here. Has he really been in a madhouse all these years? Never mind; you were right about the tutors so hopefully you’ll be right about the rogues too. Will you please slow down, Eddie! We need to talk!”

“No we don’t,” I said, not slowing down.

“Yes we do! In your absence, the I

“Trust me,” I said. “You really don’t want to hear what I feel like saying.”

“Eddie…”

“None of this matters,” I said flatly. “I put the I

“I see,” Pe

“Change the subject,” I said, and she must have heard something in my voice, because she did.

“I’ve finally managed to make contact with the rogue known as the Mole. Thanks to some rather imaginative work by our communications staff, who turned out to be far too au fait with underground information systems for my liking…You did say you wanted the Mole brought back into the fold…”

“He could be very useful to us,” I said, just a little defiantly. “When he went rogue he went underground, literally, and put together an information network unmatched anywhere else in the world. He knows things, things no one else knows. And he’s in contact with all kinds of powerful groups and individuals who wouldn’t even dream of talking to us directly. We need the Mole, and his sources.”