Live and Let Drood

you see?”
    “Can’t see a damned thing,” I said.
    “Are you sure there aren’t any mummies in there?” said Molly. “I’ve always been just this little bit freaked out when it comes to mummies. Ever since I saw that old mummy film with Boris Karloff on late-night television when I was a kid.”
    “I liked the Hammer version,” I said, “with Christopher Lee.”
    “Blasphemer.”
    “Listen for the beat of the cloth-wrapped feet.…No, that was a later one. Wasn’t it?”
    “It’s all about the bandages,” said Molly, squeezing in close beside me so she could see into the hole, too. “The feeling that it was only the rotting bandages that were holding the mummy together…”
    She brought her glowing hand forward and sent cheerful amber witchlight through the gap I’d made and into the chamber beyond. It looked like just another stone chamber, but this time with a raised slab in the centre of the dusty floor that bore a small wooden box. I took my time looking the chamber over, but I couldn’t see anything else.
    “That’s it?” said Molly. “That tiny box is what we came all this way to find? Oh, is it a wishing ring? I’ve always wanted one of those.”
    “That is very definitely it,” I said. “Just as Uncle Jack described it to me. And, no, it is not a wishing ring. They’re just myths and legends.”
    “Lot you know,” said Molly. “Get out of the way.”
    She shouldered me aside and thrust her arm into the gap, reaching for the box on the raised slab. I stuck my face into the gap with her. It soon became clear that she couldn’t touch the box. Every time her fingers came anywhere near it, they seemed to just slide away…no matter how hard she tried, or how much she swore.
    “Told you,” I said after a while. “It’s protected in a very small and subtle way; only Droods can touch it.”
    Molly jerked her shoulder back out of the hole, stretched her arm a few times and then glared at me. “You did not tell me that, or I would have remembered. Why didn’t you tell me?”
    “I wanted to see if the story was true,” I said. “There are a lot of stories about this place, about this box and what it contains. Once people found out that Uncle Jack had told me the secret, they couldn’t wait to come forward and confuse the issue with all the different versions of the story they’d heard. I needed to see if this box is what it’s supposed to be, so I can be sure the thing inside the box can do what I need it to do.”
    “So I’m your lab rat?” said Molly. “Your canary in a cage? Are you about to use the words booby trap , by any chance?”
    “I was pretty sure my being here would defuse them,” I said. “Anyway, I knew you could look after yourself. If you had to. If anything went wrong. Besides, I was here. I would have protected you.”
    “You are so full of yourself, Eddie.”
    “I’m a Drood.”
    “Same thing.”
    I reached through the gap and my golden fingers immediately locked onto the box. In fact, it seemed almost to leap into my hand, as though it had been waiting all these ages just for me. I pulled my arm back and held the box out on the palm of my metal hand. Molly leaned in for a really close look, while being very careful not to touch any part of it. I had to say, after coming all this way and placing all my hopes on it, it didn’t look like much. Just a small, flat, square box made from some dark wood, with Druidic stylings carved into the lid. Molly finally decided enough was enough and reached forward to lift the lid. Only to find she still couldn’t touch it.
    “Told you,” I said. “This is a Drood secret. Only Droods can access Drood secrets.”
    “If I wasn’t so eager to see what’s inside the box and you weren’t the only person here who could open it, I would drop-kick you right through that wall,” said Molly.
    I rolled the armour up my arms and back into my torc and then gently ran one fingertip across the lid of the box. It sprang open of its own accord, reacting immediately to Drood contact. Molly and I watched the lid rise, holding our breath. And there inside the box was an old-fashioned compass. Copper surround, glass top, ivory base and a lead needle. There were no markings anywhere on the ivory base.
    “ A compass ?” said Molly. “It really is just a compass? I may spit. We came all this way for a bloody compass ?”
    “Getting a bit loud there, Molly,” I said. “We don’t want to disturb the