Live and Let Drood

and I strolled over to peer into the pond.
    “Piranha,” said Molly.
    “What else would you expect in a place like this?” I said. “Koi?”
    Molly ignored me, leaning forward for a better look. A piranha the size of my fist jumped right up out of the water and flashed through the air, heading straight for Molly’s face with an open mouth stuffed full of jagged teeth. Molly barely had time to react before I armoured up my hand, snatched the flying fish out of midair, and crushed it in my golden gauntlet. It never got anywhere near Molly’s face. Pulped fish guts squeezed between my golden fingers as I ground the nasty thing in my fist, just to make sure, and then I opened my hand and shook off the mess. It fell back into the pond, whose waters became briefly very agitated as the other piranha fought one another over the fresh food. I pulled the armour back into my torc.
    “Nice reaction time,” said Molly, stepping carefully back from the pool.
    “I thought so,” I said modestly.
    “I would have stopped it in time,” said Molly. “I was never in any real danger. But it’s nice to know you’re paying attention.”
    “Anytime,” I said.
    And then, because we’d looked at everything else, we turned and looked across the great open lawns at Crow Lee’s manor house. It looked very nice. A pleasant and peaceful old-fashioned stone house with a half-timbered front and a sloping grey-tiled roof. Ivy on the walls; flowers round the door. The kind of thing you see on jigsaw-puzzle box covers. It looked cosy and comfortable, the only slightly off note being the closed curtains at every window, so you couldn’t see in. The front door was very firmly closed.
    “I can’t believe the Most Evil Man in the World lives in a cosy nook like this,” I said finally. “Are you sure we’re not looking at some kind of illusion?”
    Molly shook her head immediately. “I already checked it out with my Sight. It’s just a house. I can’t See inside, though; there are some heavy-duty privacy spells in place. Hello. I spy movement.”
    From every side, dark figures were appearing out of nowhere. Armed guards came running across the lawns at us, from every direction at once. Professional-looking mercenary soldiers in bluff uni-forms, all of them very heavily armed. They moved quickly to surround us, cutting us off from any possible exit. I had to smile. Like we had any intention of going anywhere…
    “Fun time!” I said loudly.
    “That’s usually my line,” said Molly.
    The mercenary soldiers took up their positions in silence, levelling weapons on us from every side. They didn’t call out to us to stand still or raise our hands or surrender. Which sort of suggested they weren’t that interested in taking prisoners. There were a hell of a lot of them, armed to the teeth, clearly expecting a fight. So it seemed a shame to disappoint them.…I armoured up, the golden metal flowing all over me in a moment. My armour glowed brightly in the early-evening light, and there were startled gasps and muttered blasphemies all around me. Some of the younger soldiers just froze where they were, eyes wide and mouths slack, as they got their first good look at a Drood in his armour. But others pressed forward, guns at the ready, so I went swiftly forward to meet them. Molly was right there with me, sorcerous energies spitting and crackling in the air around her fists.
    “If they had any sense, they’d run,” I said loudly. “Even a professional soldier should have more sense than to go up against Drood armour.”
    “They don’t look all that impressed,” said Molly.
    “They’re about to be,” I said. “Suddenly and violently and all over the place.”
    The soldiers looked at me and at Molly, and decided Molly was the easier target because she didn’t have any armour. They all opened fire at once, the roar of gunfire shockingly loud in the quiet. I moved automatically to stand between Molly and the soldiers, and the bullets ricocheted harmlessly away from my armour, flying this way and that, making some soldiers duck frantically, and chewing up a nearby hedge sculpture of a giant boar. Its curving tusks were shot away in a moment, and its shaggy head just exploded. It did occur to me that if I’d beenwearing my usual strange-matter armour, it would have absorbed all the bullets rather than let them prove a danger to innocent bystanders. But I was wearing Moxton’s Mistake, and the rogue armour didn’t care. And,