Casino Infernale by Simon R. Green Page B

because the field that stopped light getting out also stopped light getting in. So he couldn’t see anything. Or even find the OFF switch . . . and two interns who’d developed a highly miniaturised and very powerful explosive device, and then dropped it, were scrabbling around on the floor on all fours, trying to find the bloody thing before the timer ran out. Just another day in the Drood Armoury. I always enjoyed my visits. As long as I was careful where I put my feet.
    Reluctantly, I turned back to Molly and the Armourer, who were now standing face to face, eyeballing each other so closely they could hardly blink without entangling their eyelashes. It would have been funny if the emotions involved hadn’t been so raw, and so dangerous. Molly had discovered what she’d always thought she wanted—the truth concerning the death of her parents. And it had stabbed her in the heart. Being Molly, she dealt with the pain by spreading it around.
    “Give control of the Merlin Glass back to Eddie,” Molly said flatly. “I have to get to the Department of the Uncanny. I have questions to put to the Regent.”
    “Ah,” said the Armourer. And just like that the fire went out of his eyes, and he stepped back. He sighed, almost sadly. “You’ve found out, then.”
    Molly was so surprised, she almost forgot to be angry. “You knew?”
    I was thrown, myself. “You knew the Regent of Shadows killed her parents? And you never said anything?”
    “Of course I knew,” said the Armourer. He sat down in a handy chair. I sometimes forget how old he is, and how sudden shocks can drive the strength right out of him. Like most of my family he’s fine with violence, but has trouble with emotions. He looked suddenly tired, and frail. A tall and stooped man of more than middle age, wearing a grubby white lab coat with many chemical stains and burns, over a T-shirt bearing the legend BORN TO KILL PEOPLE WHO NEED KILLING . Two shocks of tufty white hair jutted out over his ears, under a bulging bald pate. He always looked like he carried the cares of the world on his shoulders, and couldn’t wait to do something really unpleasant to the people who put them there. He was an excellent field agent, in his day. Like his father before him, my grandfather Arthur, the Regent of Shadows. The Armourer sighed heavily.
    “I always meant to talk to you about this, Molly. But somehow it never seemed to be the right time. And you were so pleased to find your missing grandfather, Eddie; I didn’t want to spoil it for you. But yes, I know. I’ve always known. I was still part of the family Council, back then, deciding policy, and enforcement . . .” He looked steadily at Molly. “You mustn’t think too harshly of the Regent. He only ever did what the family asked of him. He still thought there was a chance he might be allowed to come home.”
    “That doesn’t matter,” said Molly. “Nothing matters, except getting to the truth. Right to the bottom of it.”
    “Hadrian Coll claimed my grandfather had a reputation for killing work,” I said. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
    “We’re not responsible for the way the world is,” said the Armourer. “But we are responsible for doing whatever’s necessary to preserve it from those who would corrupt and destroy it.”
    “Stop,” said Molly. “No excuses, no distractions. I don’t care what the Droods’ current emergency is . . .”
    “Don’t care was made to care,” the Armourer said mildly. “Especially since the current emergency is mostly of your making.”
    “Oh, hell,” I said. “What have I done now?”
    “No!” Molly said fiercely. “I am not going to be reasonable, I am not going to listen to you, I am not going to be guilt-tripped by you! To hell with this. Keep your Merlin Glass; I’ll teleport myself out of here.” She looked at me. “Well?”
    “You know I want to come with you,” I said. “I don’t want you facing the Regent alone. But, I