“Now you’ve seen how bad it is,” said Harry. “The odds we’ve been facing. Maybe Truman’s right. Maybe we should open the Armageddon Codex.”

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

“Tell me you’ve got a really good plan,” said the Sarjeant.

“Well,” I said. “I’ve got a plan.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Truth, and Other Things, Will Out

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Truth, and Other Things, Will Out

I threw everyone out, as fast as I could without being too obvious about it. I sent Giles Deathstalker away with the Sarjeant-at-Arms, to discuss new training programs for the family. Between the two of them, I’d bet on our army against anyone else’s. Harry and Roger stalked off all on their own, no doubt to stir up new mischief somewhere else. Neither of them even looked back at me as they left. And after a discreet pause, Molly and I said good-bye to Freddie, and to Strange, and we went looking for some empty place where we could talk safely together, in private.

People looked at us as we walked through the corridors. No one actually cheered or booed, they just watched us and kept their thoughts to themselves. Most just looked like they were waiting for someone to tell them what to do for the best. I knew exactly how they felt.

Molly and I finally ended up in the main dining room at the back of the Hall. It was completely deserted, in between shifts, the rows of tables standing silent and waiting under their pristine white tablecloths. It was hard to believe that eighteen months has passed since we were last here. Molly and I sat down facing each other, and I suddenly realised I didn’t have a single clue what to say. What do you say when the woman you love is dying?

“It’s not like we haven’t been here before,” Molly said kindly. “Remember when you were infected by the strange matter, and we both thought you only had a few days to live? We didn’t sit around crying our eyes out; we just got on with business. We survived that. We’ll survive this.”

“How do you feel?” I said. “I mean, really; do you feel any . . . different?”

“I can feel . . . something else inside me,” she said slowly. “Like after a large meal. A feeling of . . . heaviness. As though there’s more of me now. My standard magical protections are containing it, for the moment. ” She smiled briefly. “But then, I would say that, wouldn’t I? If I were already a Loathly One drone, in mind as well as body.”

“No,” I said. “I’d know the difference. I could tell if you weren’t . . . you.”

“Yes,” she said. “You probably could.”

“Let’s talk about something else, just for a while,” I said. “Give us a chance to sneak up on the main subject, maybe catch it by surprise.”