"Get out of here, Eddie," said Rafe, smiling again. "And tell everyone else to stay out, until I'm safely gone. Or you'll have no Librarians left at all."

"I can't let you go, Rafe," I said steadily. "Or whoever you really are. You're a clear and present danger to the whole family."

"I'll kill him!"

"He'd understand. Anything, for the family."

We looked at each other, both of us ready to do what we had to; and then Rafe looked round sharply. He saw something, and shrank back horrified, the knife falling away from William's throat. Rafe's face was horribly pale, his eyes focused on something so terrible, something so bad he had no thought for anything else. He scrambled backwards away from William, making low whimpering noises.

I looked where Rafe was looking, and couldn't see a damned thing. Just the books on the shelves, and the steady golden glow of Library light. Rafe's back slammed up against a stack, and he cried out miserably when he realised he couldn't retreat any farther. His wide eyes were locked on something, and he was making a high whining noise now. I moved forward, to put myself between Rafe and William, but Rafe no longer cared about either of us. He threw his knife away, and made pitiful, childish go-away motions with his hands. I raised my Sight and looked hard, but I still couldn't See anything.

"Can't you see?" said Rafe, in a harsh, strained voice. "Can't you see that? It's coming for me! Do something! Don't let it get me!" I could feel all the hackles rising on the back of my neck, in response to the stark terror in Rafe's voice. He was definitely seeing something, and given what the sight of it was doing to him, I was glad I couldn't see what he was seeing. I moved cautiously forward, grabbed up the knife from the floor, and Rafe scrabbled quickly behind me, putting me between him and whatever he saw coming for him. William had been convinced there was Something living down here in the Old Library with him; Something that watched him, or watched over him. Rafe clutched at me like a frightened, desperate child.

"Don't let it get me," he said, in a small broken voice. "Please. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Come with me," I said. "I'll get you out of here. But you give me any trouble, and I'll just walk away and leave you here."

"Yes. Anything. Please; I can't stand it…"

I stood up straight, and addressed the space before us. "I am Edwin Drood. I speak for the family. Who's there?" There was no response. The light didn't flicker, and the shadows were just shadows. I still couldn't See anything. Rafe stopped whimpering suddenly, the sound cut off in his throat. I looked back, and saw him turn his head slowly, as though watching Something move across the Library and then disappear behind the stacks. He collapsed, shuddering with relief.

"What was it?" I said. "What did you see?"

Rafe shook his head. He didn't want to say, as though just naming or describing it might be enough to summon it back. Finally, he whispered one word.

"White…"

I left him sitting huddled up against a stack, clutching his knees to his chest, looking around with wide, shocked eyes. I used the Merlin Glass to summon medical help for William. A doctor in a blood-smeared white coat came through, and examined William quickly but thoroughly. He ran gentle fingers over William's broken head, while shooting me an accusing glance.

"I do have other patients to attend to, you know. Other people who need my help. This is nothing serious. Bad, but fixable. Upstairs, we're so packed we're running triage, sorting out the save-able from the hopeless. The Librarian can wait."

"No he can't," I said flatly. "You give William top priority. He knows things no one else in the family knows. Take him up to the hospital wards through the Glass, and make sure he gets to the front of the queue. Don't make me come looking for you."

The doctor sighed. "Go ahead, bully me! That's what I'm here for." He called through the open Merlin Glass for stretcher bearers, and then peered across at Rafe, still shuddering and staring. "Want me to take a look at that one too? Though I'm pretty sure I can diagnose shock from here."

"He stays with me," I said. I wasn't ready to say we had an Immortal in the family. Not just yet.

They took William away, still unconscious, and I took Rafe back to the Armoury. He clung to me like a child. I told the Armourer everything that had happened, and he looked at Rafe with cold, angry eyes. He pulled Rafe away from me and thrust him into the diagnostic chair, tightening the restraining straps around him with almost brutal efficiency. He then attached all the sensors, checked the display screens, and put the tubes in place. Rafe jumped and flinched a few times, but didn't say anything. Away from the Old Library, he was quickly regaining his old composure and self-control. He looked at the Armourer and me with a cold and thoughtful gaze. The Armourer finished his work, stepped back to look at the display screens, and then scowled fiercely.

"Wait a minute, that can't be right…" He checked all the connections again, fiddled with a few things, and even gave his computer a warning slap; but when he checked the display screens again he still didn't like what he saw. "These readings… they're just wrong. They're barely human. Half of what I'm looking at makes no sense, and the other half… Whatever the Immortals are, Eddie, they're a long way from anything we'd call human."

"Of course," said Rafe, sitting calmly and at ease in the diagnostic chair, as though he'd chosen to sit there. "We're better than human. We don't have your… limitations."

He had all of his poise and arrogance back, the same superior attitude he'd shown me with his knife at William's throat. He surreptitiously tested the restraining straps, and smiled slowly.

"A diagnostic chair," he said easily. "One of the few things that might actually hold me. You can't tie down an Immortal with ropes and chains. But, it'll take me a while to break free from this, so off you go, Eddie; ask me your questions. I might answer them. I might even tell you the truth."

"You even look like you're trying to escape," said the Armourer, "and I will have the chair do really quite appalling things to your central nervous system."

"So you're the Drood torturer, now?" said Rafe. I knew that wasn't really his name, but it was hard to think of him as anyone else, even when the look on his face had nothing to do with the young Librarian I'd thought I'd known. He sneered at the Armourer. "I don't think so. You Droods don't have it in you to be really ruthless. Not like us."

The Armourer punched Rafe in the face. A sudden, vicious blow, with all of the Armourer's strength behind it. I heard Rafe's nose break, and saw blood fly on the air as the force of the blow whipped

Rafe's head around. The Armourer studied Rafe calmly. He wasn't even breathing hard. Rafe sat stunned in the chair, blood coursing down his face. I didn't know which of us was more startled by what had just happened: Rafe or me. I'd never seen my Uncle Jack do anything like that before. Certainly not with a defenceless prisoner. Rafe looked at me.

"Are you going to just stand there, and let him do that?"

"Sure," I said. "I might even join in. I like William."

"We all like William," said the Armourer.

And he hit Rafe again, right in the eye. It was a hard, solid blow, and the sound was loud and unpleasant. People around us hesitated, decided quickly it was none of their business, and got on with their work. Rafe strained briefly against his bonds, breathing hard.

"I can keep this up all day," said the Armourer. "You can't. Traitor."

"I am not a traitor," Rafe said thickly. He spat out a mouthful of blood. "I'm not a Drood. I never was. I'm an Immortal. You can't treat me this way."