I cut contact with Strange, before I said something one of us would regret, and used the Merlin Glass to transport Molly and me straight to the lecture halls in the south wing. I had this horrible mental picture of a lecture hall full of dead Droods, with blood running down the aisles while Janissary Jane and Mr. Stab played football with their severed heads . . . But when we arrived in the lobby outside the auditoriums, all seemed calm and quiet. Penny was walking unhurriedly back and forth, listening at first one door and then the next. She jumped a little as Molly and I appeared through the Glass, and then hurried over to us, making shushing gestures.

“Thanks a whole bunch for dropping those four on me!” she said, the effect somewhat limited by her hushed tone.

“Blame the Armourer,” I said automatically. “Where are they, Penny? Has there been any trouble?”

“None at all,” said Penny. “I thought the best thing to do was put them all to work straightaway. Let the family see what they could do. So I gave them an auditorium each, told them to talk about what the hell they liked, and . . . much to my surprise, they took to it like ducks to water. It’s all worked out rather well. It’s standing room only, for all four lecture halls, and when was the last time that happened?”

“And there haven’t been any . . . incidents?” said Molly.

“Not yet,” said Penny. “A part of me keeps waiting for the other bomb to drop.”

“Why are we whispering?” I said.

Penny raised an eyebrow. “Well, we don’t want to interrupt them, do we?”

I moved over to the nearest door and slipped quietly through to stand at the back of the lecture hall. Molly was quickly there at my side. Subway Sue was up on the stage, striding back and forth, hitting the fascinated packed audience with what it was like to live on the very edges of society. To be in the city, but not part of it, alone and unsupported, surviving entirely on your wits.