She was having serious mood swings too, but I didn’t know if I could blame that on the infection.

The Merlin Glass showed her to me, standing in a small copse of trees looking out at the old abandoned waterwheel on the far side of the lake. Her face was drawn and thoughtful, her dark eyes far away, ignoring the swans that circled hopefully before her on the still waters of the lake, hoping for bread crumbs. I looked at her for a long time. She still looked like Molly. My Molly. But I had to wonder how long that would last. How long before the inner Molly changed so much that she couldn’t pass for the real thing any more. I felt so helpless. Sick with it. Here I was, leader of the most powerful family in all the world, and there wasn’t a single damned thing I could do to save the woman I loved. Except lead her into battle, and hope she died honourably.

So I wouldn’t have to kill her myself, when she turned. Could I do that? I thought so. It was what she wanted, what she’d asked me to do. And besides, I’d done worse, in my time, for the family.

As I watched, Harry Drood and Roger Morningstar wandered along the bank of the lake to join her. Harry was smiling cheerfully, as though he was just out for a stroll, and had just happened to bump into Molly. Roger smiled meaninglessly, his eyes dark and watchful as always. The grass scorched and blackened where he put his feet, and the swans headed hurriedly away. A bird flying overhead fell suddenly dead out of the air and landed at his feet. Roger picked it up and bit into it thoughtfully, as though it was just another snack. Blood ran down his chin. Harry looked at him reproachfully, and Roger immediately threw the dead bird aside. Molly had to know they were there, but she ignored them until they were almost upon her. And then she stopped them both in their tracks with a single hard look.

Their voices came clearly to me, from far away.

It was clear to me, from the way she was looking at them, that she was wondering if they knew about her. After all, Roger had more than human senses, and Harry had years of experience as a field agent. But she quickly decided they didn’t and nodded briefly to Harry, ignoring Roger.

“Molly,” said Harry, smiling easily. “You’re looking good.”

“What do you want, Harry?”

“What I always want,” said Harry, still smiling, absently adjusting his wire-framed glasses. “I want what’s best for the family. Which these days means my being in charge of things, and not Eddie. The family needs my calm, considered decisions, not Eddie’s mad impulsiveness. He’ll screw it all up, get us all killed. You must know that, Molly; you know him better than any of us. Can you really trust him to do the right thing, under pressure? And if we go down . . . who’s going to be left to save the world?”