Daemons Are Forever

“Whereas you have done so much better?” I said. “Do tell.”

“You weren’t here! You don’t know everything that’s happened in the last year and a half! I’ve been fighting a war against an enemy that threatens the whole world. Not just one nest, one tower, but thousands of the bloody things. Hundreds of thousands… we can’t even keep count anymore, they’re spreading so fast. Look at you, standing there, sneering at me… You have no right to judge me! You have no right to just walk in and expect us all to fall at your feet, and plead with you to save us! I run the family now, by right. I’ve earned this. I am the Patriarch; if you want it, you’re going to have to take it from me.”

“You see, that’s the difference between us right there, Harry,” I said. “I never wanted it. But I’ve always known my duty to the family. And that’s why I have to replace you—for the good of the family.”

Harry armoured up, and to my surprise the metal that flowed from his torc was golden, not silver. He laughed at the expression on my face, his own hidden behind the featureless golden mask.

“I never liked the silver look. So I talked to Strange, and he saw no reason why the strange matter shouldn’t be gold … so I had him change it. Gold is the colour of tradition, of continuity, a reminder of the days when our family was strong. And will be again!”

“Strange!” I said. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, Eddie.” The voice emanating from the crimson glow sounded strangely muted, and far away. “It’s so good to see you again. You’ve been a long way; I can see it on you. And the world… has moved on, while you were away. Even I am not what I was, being spread so thin. Only my protections keep the family safe. It’s the Loathly Ones, Eddie. They infect the living world like a virus, like a cancer. And the more they take over, the more their presence limits me. I provide armour for the Droods, and power for the family’s weapons and defences…but every day I find it that little bit harder. The Hungry Gods are coming…and not even I can hope to stand against them once they manifest in all their awful glory.”

I’d never heard Strange sound so tired, so beaten down…almost defeated. He’d always seemed so powerful, so far above humanity, it had never even occurred to me that there might be other forces, other Beings, as far above him… I looked at Harry, standing proud and tall in his golden armour.

“Put that away,” I said. “We don’t have time for this shit. We have important business to discuss. Family business.”

“No,” he said immediately. “There’s nothing more important than this. Nothing can happen, nothing can be decided, until we decide who’s in charge. I noticed you haven’t put on your armour, Eddie. What’s the matter? Haven’t you got the balls for a fair fight?”

“A duel?” I said. “In the middle of all this, you want to fight a duel?”

“It is the traditional way,” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms, smiling just a little bit.

“Just another reason why I never got along with the traditional ways,” I said. “But if it’ll make you happy, Harry…”

I subvocalised the activating Words, and the armour poured out of my torc to encase me. I immediately felt stronger, sharper, more confident. A quick glance down showed me my armour was now as golden as his. I flexed my golden fists slowly, and then started towards Harry. He came to me, and we circled each other cautiously. Everyone else fell back, to give us plenty of room. I saw Molly holding Giles by the arm and murmuring urgently in his ear, making it clear he mustn’t interfere. He nodded. He looked like he understood all about duels.

The Sarjeant-at-Arms took a step forward, perhaps to say something in support of Harry, or perhaps just to try to distract me, and Giles swept forward impossibly quickly, crossing the width of the hall in a moment. His long sword leapt into his hand as he slammed the Sarjeant up against the wall, and then he set the edge of the long blade against the Sarjeant’s throat. It all happened so quickly the Sarjeant didn’t have a chance to call up his armour. He looked into Giles’s cold eyes, so close to his own, and stood very still, saying nothing. A slow trickle of blood ran down his throat from where the razor edge of the sword just parted the skin over his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t,” said Giles.

Harry seized the moment while my attention was elsewhere, and threw himself at me. We went head to head, both of us too angry to think of subtlety. We traded blows that would have killed ordinary men, but neither of us felt them. We grappled with each other, swaying back and forth as we wrestled, but we both knew all the tricks. We slammed together again and again, our superhuman strength and speed equally matched. I pushed him away from me and extruded long golden blades from my hands. Harry grew blades from his hands too, and we cut viciously at each other, thrusting and hacking and swirling around each other too quickly for the human eye to follow. We were in the grip of the armour now, our passion and hate transformed into superhuman action.

I slammed his left blade aside through brute force and cut at his chest. The supernaturally sharp edge cut through his armour to reach him, the only thing that could. I heard him grunt, in pain and surprise, and then I had to duck quickly as his backhand response almost took my head off. We spun and danced, stamping our golden feet so hard we cracked the wooden floor. We fought on, golden blurs in the crimson light. But even in this we were too evenly matched, trading superficial cuts and wounds that never even came close to ending the duel.

But I’d been through a lot more than he had, and I was tired. My arms ached, and I could feel blood trickling warmly down my skin inside my armour. I had to end this, while I still could. So I used an old trick, the one I used to beat his father. I parried both his blades with mine, forced them up and out of the way, and went for his throat with both hands. My blades withdrew into the golden gloves so I could get a good grip on his golden neck. The impact sent us both crashing to the floor and I ended up on top, both my hands bearing down on his throat. His hands discarded their blades as he instinctively grabbed at my wrists, trying to force my hands away. The armour around his neck should have been a match for my armoured hands, but at such close proximity, under the force of my will, his armour and mine melded together so that my bare hands were suddenly at his bare throat, inside the armour.

He made some sound of shock and surprise, and then my hands closed, and I cut it off. He bucked and struggled under me, but he couldn’t shift my hands. He choked and convulsed, and I wouldn’t let him breathe.

Until finally he stopped fighting me and slapped the ground at his side. The old signal of a fighter who yields. I let go, and he started breathing again. I stayed crouched over him, ready to go again if he was faking. For a while we stayed there, him on the floor, me over him, both of us breathing hard. I would have killed him if he hadn’t yielded, and he knew it.

“Was that how you killed my father?” he said finally.

“Typical of you, Harry,” I said. “Always fixated on the past. A leader has to look to the future. I could have killed you, but I didn’t want to. First, because it would probably have caused more problems than it solved, and secondly, the family needs experienced field agents like you. Now more than ever. So forget this Patriarch crap. Go back to being part of my I

“And if I say no?”

“You know the answer to that. It’s all or nothing, Harry. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said quietly, bitterly. “For the good of the family.”

We both armoured down. I gave him my hand and helped him to his feet.

“No!” Roger said suddenly, stepping forward. “You don’t have to give in to him, Harry! You don’t have to take any crap from anyone, not while I’m here!”