Live and Let Drood

me, and I thrust my fingers deep into the grass and earth before me, rooting myself in the world. It was good to be back. The steady warmth of the summer’s day drove the armour’s cold out of my body, out of my heart and soul, but my torc still burnt coldly about my throat, as though in warning. I realised Molly was kneeling beside me, saying my name over and over, and I finally found the strength to turn and smile at her.
    “Eddie! Talk to me, dammit! Are you all right? Do you need me to rip that torc off your throat and throw it back into the Maze?”
    “No,” I said immediately, if only to stop the relentless flow of her words. “I’m fine, Molly. Really. The armour’s…safe inside my torc. We came to an arrangement inside the Maze. It will serve me. For now.”
    I slowly got to my feet again, with Molly’s help. The experience had taken a lot out of me. Molly was looking at me anxiously, clearly waiting for details of the arrangement I’d agreed to, but I didn’t tell her. I knew she wouldn’t approve.
    “You were in there for ages,” said Molly. “It’s been almost three hours!”
    I blinked a few times at that. Time must have moved differently inside the Maze.
    “I’ve been walking up and down outside the entrance, working on my magics, waiting for you to come out,” Molly went on, when it became clear I had nothing to say. “I wanted to be sure I had something useful in hand, just in case the armour had taken you over. So when you just came rushing out, not even talking to me, I sort of assumed the worst.”
    “Sorry,” I said. “I got a bit carried away. I hadn’t realised how much I missed wearing armour.”
    “Anyway,” said Molly. “Some of what I hit you with should have strengthened your torc, giving you more control over your new armour. So it can’t come and go as it pleases or deny you when you need it.”
    “Good,” I said. “Good idea, Molly. The strange matter in the torc should also help to keep the rogue armour in its place.”
    “But, Eddie, listen to me! This is important. I’ve no idea how long your torc will be able to control the armour, even with my magics’ support. We are in unknown territory here.…It could last for days or weeks or just a few hours.”
    “Got it,” I said. I didn’t tell her it didn’t matter. That I would wear the armour for as long as I needed to find my family. And worry about everything else afterwards.
    “So,” said Molly. “What does it feel like…wearing Moxton’s armour?”
    “Cold,” I said immediately, before I could stop myself. “Very cold…and inhuman…But it’ll do the job and that’s all that matters.” I realised Molly was looking at me oddly. “What?”
    “When you came out of the Maze, wearing that armour…You didn’t look anything like you usually do. You didn’t even look like a Drood. I don’t know what Moxton based his designs on, but I don’t think it was anything human.” She scowled, searching for the right words. “The way you were moving, the impression you gave—I wasn’t sure there was anything inside the armour.”
    “It’s still me, Molly,” I said. “I’m still here.”
    “Not when you’re wearing that armour, you’re not. I can tell.”
    “I need it, Molly. Can’t do the job without it.”
    “I know. But once this is over, first chance you get, ditch the bloody thing.”
    “Hush,” I said quietly. “I think…it’s listening.”
    “Things just get better all the time,” said Molly. “So, what now?”
    “We need answers,” I said. “We need hard information as to exactly what went down here and who was behind it. Someone out there will know. Someone always knows. But where do we go to ask? Time was, we’d have just dropped into the Wulfshead Club, that celebrated supernatural watering hole, paid for a round for the house, and they’d have been lining up to tell us everything we needed to know. But I’m pretty sure I’m persona non grata there, after the…recent unpleasantness.”
    “You mean when you completely lost control, beat up everyone who got in your way and half killed your old friend the Indigo Spirit?” said Molly. “Oh, hell, yes, Eddie. They’re still talking about that, and not in a good way. You are banned from the Wulfshead for life, Eddie Drood, and possibly even longer than that.”
    “But that’s just Eddie Drood,” I said, craftily. “I could still sneak in as Shaman Bond, couldn’t I?”
    “I wouldn’t,” said Molly.