Book 1 - The Man With the Golden Torc (30 page)

"I love it when a woman talks dirty," I said.

We were leaning towards each other when the barge’s proximity
alarm went off, a silent crimson light that filled the cabin. I gestured
urgently for Molly to be quiet and rose quickly to turn off the CD player.
Outside, the wind was howling with a voice not all its own. I turned off the
crimson warning light with a sharp gesture and dropped down beside Molly again.
I put my mouth right next to her ear.

"Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t do anything. Something’s out
there. And my security alarms wouldn’t flare up like that unless there was
something really nasty in the vicinity."

"Looking for us?" said Molly, barely breathing the words.

"Seems likely. But it’s not my family. That would set off an
entirely different alarm."

"You got any weapons on this boat?"

"No. And no defences either. That’s the point of this place;
nothing to attract any attention. It’s supposed to be right off the map. Nothing
for any enemy to detect."

We listened to the wind raging. The cabin was rising and falling
jerkily now, as the waters were disturbed. The temperature dropped sharply. My
breath steamed on the air, mixing with Molly’s.

"What do you think it is?" Molly whispered.

"Could be any number of really bad things. I’ve made some
serious enemies in my time. Probably think I’m vulnerable, now my family’s
disowned me."

"But you’ve got your armour, and I’ve got my spells…"

"No. If we give away our position we’ll have to go on the run
again. And I’m running out of safe places to hide. Keep your head down and stay
close to me. Just being this close to my torc should hide you too."

We sat silently together as the barge shook and shuddered and
the wind howled like a living thing. One by one the storm lamps guttered and
went out so that a darkening gloom filled the cabin, as though there was
something close that could not abide light and warmth. I could feel the presence
of something horribly other drawing inexorably closer, something fierce and
foul, like a thorn in my soul. I was shivering now, and so was Molly, and not
just from the bitter cold that penetrated the cabin. Something was looking for
us, something dangerous to our bodies and our souls, and it was perilously
close. I took Molly in my arms, and she held me tightly. Whether I held her to
bring her closer to the torc, or just out of a desperate need for human contact,
I couldn’t say.

I could have armoured up. I was pretty sure my armour would
protect me from whatever was outside. But using such a strong magic would have
given away my position immediately. And Molly would have been left unprotected.

The presence outside finally moved on, and the night went back
to normal. The wind fell away to murmurs, and the barge stopped rocking as the
waters stilled. The storm lamps popped back on, one by one, and light and warmth
slowly filled the cabin again. Molly started to pull away from me, and I
immediately let go of her. She shook her head slowly, and then stretched
theatrically.

"God, I’m tired. Don’t get any ideas, Eddie. We’re allies on
this case, nothing more."

"Of course," I said. "I need to get some sleep. Would you like
me to fix some hot chocolate before we turn in?"

"Hot chocolate sounds very good," she said. "But where, exactly,
are we turning in? How many beds do you have here?"

"Just the one," I said. "In the bedroom at the far end. You can
crash there, and I’ll put some blankets on the floor here."

"My perfect gentle knight," said Molly, smiling.

I made two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in the tiny galley,
and we sat together and talked about nothing in particular for a while. Just
winding down, from a long, hard day. Finally we both started yawning, Molly’s
eyelids drooped heavily, and she went to sleep right there on the couch. I
rescued the mug from her slowly relaxing fingers and put it to one side. The
sleeping draught I’d put in her mug had worked fine, disguised by the heavy
taste of the chocolate. It wasn’t that I entirely mistrusted her, but we had
tried to kill each other too many times, and I needed to feel safe while I
slept.

I picked Molly up and carried her into the small enclosed
bedroom at the far end of the barge. I laid her out carefully on the bed and
undid a few buttons at her throat. She moved slowly in her sleep, murmuring like
a dreaming child. I started to sort out a few spare blankets to sleep on, but I
was just too tired. And the bed was plenty big enough for two. I stretched out
beside her. Molly was already snoring gently. No doubt she’d have a few harsh
words to say when she woke up in the morning…but that could wait.

My bed fit me like a glove, and sleep had never felt so good.

I was dreaming. A great voice spoke in my mind, saying: I can
help you, if only you’ll let me. There’s no end to the things we might achieve
together, you and I. I am the answer to all your questions, and all your
problems. Just stop fighting me.

I wanted to believe the voice. I really did. But I’ve never been
able to trust anyone apart from me. The family saw to that.

I woke up with a knife at my throat. Molly was sitting astride
my chest and not in a good way. She was leaning right over me, the edge of her
silver dagger pressing just hard enough into my throat to cut the skin. It
stung, more irritating than painful, but I could feel a slow trickle of blood
coursing down the side of my neck. I decided to lie very still. Molly’s face
hung right above mine, red with rage, but her eyes were cold as ice. Her hand
was very steady, for the moment, the razor-sharp edge resting just above my
Adam’s apple. And I’d been having such a good dream too. I gave Molly my very
best polite smile.

"Good morning, Molly. Sleep well?"

"You drugged me, you bastard! Did you think I wouldn’t notice?
And you slept in the same bed as me after all that nonsense about blankets on
the floor!"

"Yes," I said carefully. "I slept in the same bed as you.
Emphasis on the word slept. You needed a good night’s sleep, and so did I, so I
just…helped things along a little."

Molly’s scowl deepened, becoming actually dangerous. "You
drugged me. Do you really expect me to ever trust you again after this? You
could have done anything to me while I was asleep!"

"Yes," I said. "I could have. But I didn’t. Still, you shouldn’t
take it personally. I was very tired. I’m sure I’ll do better next time."

"There won’t be a next time, you treacherous little toad," said
Molly. But there might have been just a hint of a smile tucked away in one
corner of her mouth. She took her knife away from my throat and climbed off my
chest. I raised one hand to my throat, and then winced as my fingertips came
away wet with blood. Molly sniffed loudly as she got up off the bed. "Don’t be
such a big baby. You’ve cut yourself worse shaving. I don’t suppose there’s a
shower anywhere on this boat, is there? I feel really funky after sleeping in my
clothes."

"No shower," I agreed. "But you can boil some hot water on the
gas cooker, for a wash."

I started to roll out of bed, and then stopped abruptly, crying
out despite myself as a stab of pain filled my shoulder and left arm. It hurt
like hell as I forced myself to sit up, cradling my left arm to my chest. I
tried flexing it slowly and yelped again as a vicious pain flashed all the way
from my shoulder to my fingertips. Just bending the elbow felt like someone had
stuck a screwdriver into the joint and twisted it. Even moving my fingers hurt.
I looked across at Molly, but she shook her head immediately.

"Nothing to do with me. Let’s have a look at your shoulder."

I couldn’t get my shirt off on my own. It hurt too much. Molly
had to help me, unbuttoning and then pushing the shirt back, not hurting me more
than she had to. I turned my head carefully to inspect my left shoulder. All
around the scar tissue left by the healed arrow wound, my skin was swollen and
inflamed. Molly leaned in for a closer look, and then pressed the skin here and
there with surprisingly gentle fingers. I hissed at the pain, and she nodded
slowly.

"Were you injured yesterday, fighting at the holding pens?"

"No," I said. "I was in my armour. I can’t be hurt while I’m in
my armour."

"The elf lord’s arrow got through," said Molly, studying the
scar tissue thoughtfully.

"Yes, but that was…extremely unusual. And I already used a med
blob to heal the wound."

"Doesn’t seem to have made too good a job of it," said Molly.
She stood back and traced a series of complex symbols on the air, glowing trails
following her fingertips to leave behind alien characters hanging shimmering
between us. Molly studied them silently for a while, and then looked back at me
as the symbols faded away. I didn’t like the expression on her face.

"Good of you to take an interest," I said, trying to keep it
light. "But if you’re about to suggest surgery with that knife of yours, I think
I’ll pass."

"You’re no use to me as a cripple," she said. "Unfortunately,
there’s nothing I can do for you. The original wound has healed, but it seems
the elf’s arrow left something behind after you pulled it out. It’s not poison,
as such. I could cope with that. But there’s something in your body that
shouldn’t be there. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s spreading."

I nodded slowly. "The arrow came from another dimension," I
said. "That’s the only way it could pierce my armour. I’ve seen the substance
once before, in the Armourer’s lab. He called it strange matter."

"Good name for it," said Molly. "My magic can detect it but not
affect it. All I can tell you for sure is that your body doesn’t have any
defences against it. It’s bad now, and it’s only going to get worse."

"Say it," I said. "Just say it."

"I’m sorry, Eddie. This strange matter is eating you alive, inch
by inch, and I don’t have the first idea on how to stop it."

"How long?" I said numbly.

"Three, four days tops."

"And after that?"

"There isn’t anything after that. I’m sorry, Eddie."

I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking. Not feeling much, not
yet. "I thought I’d have more time," I said finally. "To do all the things I
need to do. But I suppose…it’s just another deadline. And I can do deadlines.
Help me get my shirt back on."

It took both of us to get my left arm back into the shirtsleeve,
and I made some more noises, even through gritted teeth. I sat quietly as she
did up the buttons. I was breathing hard, and I could feel cold sweat drying on
my face. But all the time I was thinking, hard. Three days, four tops. The only
people who might be able to help me were the doctors back at the Hall. And maybe
the Armourer. Uncle Jack. All I knew about strange matter was what he’d told me.
That it came from somewhere else, that it had certain useful properties that no
one understood, and that it didn’t follow any of our rules. But even if I were
to go back to the Hall, give myself up, the odds were Grandmother would have
given orders for me to be killed on sight.

More than ever, I needed answers. Information. Options. And the
only people who might have those…were the other rogues.

Molly buttoned up my collar and wiped the sweat from my face
with her handkerchief. I nodded my thanks. I wasn’t used to needing help. I
wasn’t used to hurting. The only way to seriously damage a Drood was to catch
him out of his armour, and we’re all very hard to surprise. I hadn’t been really
hurt since I was a teenager. Pain and weakness were new things to me, and I
hated them. Molly saw some of this in my face and smiled briefly.

"Welcome to the world the rest of us live in. What do you want
to do now, Eddie?"

I stood up carefully. My left arm hung down at my side, quiet as
long as I didn’t try to use it. I needed to be up and moving, doing…something.
"Who’s the best rogue to talk to? Who’s most likely to know something about me
and my family?"

"That would be Oddly John," Molly said immediately. "I’ve never
been able to get much out of him, but I’m pretty sure he knows important
things."

"Is he far from here?"

"Two train journeys."

"Forget that. Call up another spatial portal."

"I’m not altogether sure that’s wise," Molly said carefully.
"They’re really only for use in emergencies. They take a lot out of me."

"Could anyone track us through the portal, once we’re gone?"

"No. But any number of people would detect a magic like that
operating and come here to check it out."

"Let them," I said. "It doesn’t matter. I doubt I’ll be coming
back here again. We can’t afford to travel openly in London anymore. By now both
my family and Manifest Destiny will have filled the city with agents looking for
us. Tell me about this…Oddly John."

"He lives out in Flitwick," Molly said, not quite avoiding my
eyes.

"Nice little commuter town some way outside London proper."

"There’s something you’re not telling me."

"There’s lots I’m not telling you. But this…you really need to
see this for yourself, Eddie."

"All right," I said. "Let’s go."

The portal dropped us off just outside a small town and on top
of a grassy hill overlooking an old Georgian manor house set in its own spacious
grounds. Birds were singing cheerfully under a bright blue sky, and the early
morning air was crisp and clear. All very picture postcard, except for the high
stone wall surrounding the manor grounds topped with iron spikes and rolls of
barbed wire. The only entrance was through a massive iron gate heavy enough to
stop a tank in its tracks. Looking beyond the high walls, I could just make out
people walking back and forth in the grounds. All very peaceful. But even from a
distance, the manor house had a dour and forbidding look, and there was
something…wrong, about the people in the grounds. Something about the way they
moved, slowly and aimlessly, not interacting with each other. I looked at Molly.