“I spent years trying to find out,” said the Armourer. “So did James. She was our sister, poor dear Emily, and we loved her dearly. We even approved of your father, or we’d never have let him marry her. But the truth is . . . no one seems to know. The odds are it was just a stupid mistake. Poor intelligence, insufficient briefing, too many things going wrong at once . . . It happens. Even on the best planned missions.”

“There’s always the Time Train,” said Penny unexpectedly.

“No there isn’t,” the Armourer said quickly.

“What the hell is a Time Train?” said Molly. “And why do I get the feeling I’m really not going to like the answer?”

“Must be your witchy senses working overtime,” I said. “Damn, I haven’t thought about the Time Train in years . . . It’s a means of travelling through time, though perhaps a little stranger than most. No one’s used it for ages. I suppose it is still functional . . . Armourer?”

“Well, yes, technically,” said the Armourer. “But some things are just too dangerous to mess with.”

I had to raise an eyebrow. “This, from the man who wanted our best telepaths to try setting off all the atomic warheads in China, just by having the telepaths think really nasty thoughts at them?”

“That would have worked, if the Matriarch hadn’t stopped me,” said the Armourer sulkily. “All my best ideas are ahead of their time.”

“I am changing the subject right now,” I said firmly. “One thing has to be clear to all of us: The family has to Do Something, something big and important and dramatic, to prove to the whole world that the Droods are still strong and nasty and a force to be reckoned with. We need to pick a target, some seriously important and unpleasant enemy, and then hit it with a really powerful preemptive strike force. Wipe them out, once and for all.”

“Now you’re talking, boy!” said the Sarjeant-at-Arms.

“Sounds good to me,” said the Armourer. “The family’s been terribly reactive for years, under the Matriarch.”

“Who did you have in mind?” said Molly. “Manifest Destiny?”

“No,” I said. “They’re still weak. Stamping on them wouldn’t impress anyone. We need something . . . bigger.”