Live and Let Drood

meaty chunks. The Regent smiled, blew imaginary smoke from the end of the short barrel, and made the gun disappear with a quick flexing of his fingers.
    “I didn’t just bring the Eye,” he said easily.
    “Told you,” said Patrick. “More tricks up his sleeve than a barrel of conjurers.”
    I turned away, not trusting myself to speak, and tested the shimmering barrier with one hand. Nothing bad happened, so I just plunged right through it. And the moment I was on the other side, the alien world’s heavier gravity fell away and I could breathe again without struggling. The barrier wasn’t a force shield; it just marked the spot where alien conditions ended. The Hall was still surrounded by an area of Earth-normal conditions that it had brought with it. The relief was so great I just stood there for a long moment, breathing deeply, a big stupid grin on my face. And then the others came through to join me, so I put on my professional face again and led them towards Drood Hall.
    The golden figures at the perimeter, inside and outside the screen, just nodded briefly to us as we passed, concentrating on keeping backthe monsters. More armoured figures ran back and forth from the Hall to the barrier, presumably with important messages or more ammunition. They were too busy even to acknowledge us. As we approached the front doors, a single figure appeared, carrying the single biggest and most impressive-looking gun I’d ever seen. I was surprised he could even hold the thing, let alone aim it. It was, of course, the Sarjeant-at-Arms. He aimed the gun right at us, and then he saw me, and I swear his jaw actually dropped. I think the whole journey was worth it just to see that. His mouth snapped shut again almost immediately, and he stepped outside and urged us in. He tracked the gun back and forth, making sure nothing had come through the barrier after us, waited till we were all safely inside, and then hurried in after us and slammed the front doors shut.
    It was wonderfully cool and calm and quiet in the hallway.
    The Sarjeant-at-Arms put down his huge gun, leaning it carefully against the closed front doors. He nodded briefly to me.
    “Good to see you, Eddie. What took you so long?”
    I stepped forward and hugged him tightly. It was a bit like trying to hug a brick wall, but I gave it my best shot. Then I stepped back and grinned at him.
    “Good to see you too, Cedric. You have no idea how good.”
    “Please, Edwin,” said the Sarjeant. “Not in front of strangers. Who are these people you’ve brought with you?”
    Molly armoured down, and the Sarjeant blinked several times as the golden mask disappeared to reveal her features. But that was nothing compared to the look of actual shock that took over his face when he looked at the Regent, Diana and Patrick. He stepped forward involuntarily, his gaze fixed on the Regent of Shadows.
    “Dear God,” he said. “It’s you!”
    “Quite, Cedric,” said the Regent. “Demons in Hell are probably snowboarding even as we speak.…But, yes, it’s me. I’m back. Where is the rest of the Council?”
    “Here,” said a familiar voice. “All that’s left of us.”
    I looked around, and hurrying down the hallway towards us were William the Librarian and the telepath Ammonia Vom Acht. The Librarian looked his usual tall and world-buffeted self, but he was wearing clothes that actually seemed like he’d put them on himself for a change, and with his great head of grey hair and full grey beard, he looked more like an Old Testament prophet than usual. His eyes seemed sharper and clearer than they had in a long time. Ammonia Vom Acht stuck close beside him, giving every appearance that she’d been doing that for some time. Medium height, sturdy, with a broad mannish face and a shock of unruly auburn hair, Ammonia had a face so full of character there was no room left in it for anything like good looks. She was wearing her usual battered tweed suit and stout brogues with trailing laces. Her jaw protruded forward with bulldog stubbornness. I noted, with quiet shock, that William and Ammonia were holding hands.
    I pointed at them. “All right,” I said, “when did that happen?”
    But before William could answer, I stepped forward and hugged him hard. The Sarjeant sniffed loudly behind me.
    “He keeps doing that. I don’t know why.”
    I let go of William, stepped back and grinned at him. “You’re looking a lot more yourself, William.”
    “Ammonia’s been