“No!” said the Armourer. “We still don’t know for sure who or what they are, or even what they want. And yes, Cyril, I have heard all the latest conspiracy theories, and I’m not convinced by any of them. They’re just a supernatural urban legend, like the Sceneshifters.”

“Vril Power Inc?” said Molly. “Everyone’s favourite nightmare from World War Two?”

“Gone into politics since the reunification of Germany,” said Penny. “No surprises there.”

“Enough names,” I said. “We need to send a message. A strong message. So I say we take on the Loathly Ones. No one likes soul-eaters, so no one will ally with them, even against us. I say we track down this new gathering of theirs, send in an armoured force and either wipe them out for good or, at the very least, send them back to whatever hell they came from. It’s only right, when you consider this family was responsible for bringing them into this world in the first place.”

The Armourer and the Sarjeant-at-Arms scowled. They already knew that. Penny and Jacob looked shocked; they didn’t. Most of the family didn’t. Just another of those nasty little secrets the old guard liked to keep to itself.

“Think I’ll contact my old friend Janissary Jane,” I said. “She knows all there is to know about fighting demons. When she’s sober. Penny, since all our field agents are coming home, I want you to put out a call for all rogue Droods to come home too. All sins forgiven, if not forgotten. They’ve learnt the hard way how to survive in the world without family backup, and they have skills we can use and profit from. Besides, I’ve been a rogue and I’ve met rogues, and I don’t like to think of them left out there in the cold.”

“All the rogues?” said Penny.

“Well, obviously not the real shits, like the late and very unlamented Bloody Man, Arnold Drood,” I said. “But there aren’t many of the real bad seeds left, are there?”

“Only a few, thank the lord,” said the Armourer. “We’ve been weeding them out, down the years. Tiger Tim is still hiding out somewhere in the Amazon rain forest, because he knows anyone even halfway civilised will kill him the moment he shows his face . . . and Old Mother Shipton is finally running out of identities to hide behind. We’re pretty sure she’s running a baby cloning service in Vienna at the moment. Our agent there was actually closing in on her . . . before the present difficulties.”

“And they’re the only monsters left?” I said.

“The only ones we know of,” said Penny. “But really, Eddie, calling in the rogues? The scum we threw out, for being crooks or cowards or subversives? The family isn’t going to like this.”