Lord Sunday (15 page)

D
r Scamandros wiped his brow with a large silk handkerchief, and Giac wiped his with his sleeve. Then both turned and smiled.

“She will live,” said Scamandros.

Suzy rushed over to them. “Don’t you never take your ’at off like that again!” she scolded. “You sure she’s orright?”

“It was a little delicate,” said Scamandros. “Mortals are so fragile. But with adequate rest she will entirely recover.”

He paused, and a dark tsunami reared up one
side of his face while on the other a tower was swallowed up by a dark hole in the ground. “Presuming we are not all destroyed,” he added.

“We should get ’er ’ome,” said Suzy. Her eyes looked very old as she gazed down at the unconscious girl. “She’s not thirteen yet. I forget sometimes.” She looked at Fred. “You reckon you could take her back to Earth?”

“Probably,” said Fred. “Depends what those Nithlings are up to in the Door. You reckon Dame Primus’ll let me though?”

“Don’t ask,” said Suzy. “She never said you ’ad to do anything, only Leaf while she ’ad the sword. And Old Primey ain’t ’ere anyhow…”

“Yes, she is,” said Giac. “Over there.”

Suzy swivelled around like a spinning top. Sure enough, Dame Primus had emerged from one of the elevators at the head of a gaggle of superior Denizens.

“Pick ’er up and take ’er now,” ordered Suzy.

Fred looked nervously over at the beastwort. “What about Daisy? She’s not going to let me
—
”

“Ah, I believe that I may be of assistance there,” said Dr Scamandros. He reached into his pocket and pulled something half out, before slipping it back in
and walking behind Giac. He gestured for the others to crowd around and bend their heads to conceal what he had.

“Best not to let Daisy see it,” he whispered, handing over a coiled leather lead to Fred. “I knew I had one of Grobbin’s leads somewhere. As the beastwort is still collared, all you need do is walk up and throw one end of the lead. It will attach itself.”

Fred took the lead and examined it carefully. “This is about twenty feet long,” he whispered.

“It stretches, once attached,” said Dr Scamandros.

“Daisy’s tentacles are at least
thirty
feet long,” said Fred.

“I believe the creature responds to kindness,” said Dr Scamandros. “Look how it cared for Leaf even after she no longer commanded it by sorcery.”

“I’ll do it if you won’t,” said Suzy. She reached for the lead, but Fred snatched it away.

“I never said I wouldn’t do it,” he snapped.

“Do what?” asked a deep, powerful voice.

Suzy, Fred, Scamandros and Giac straightened up. Dame Primus looked down at them with her cold, cold eyes.

“Leash the beastwort, milady,” stammered Fred.

“I see you have assumed a most important post,” said Dame Primus.

“Uh, not intentionally. It was just that my savage-sword broke on a Newnith’s helm and then I was knocked down, and I was crawling around looking for a weapon
—
”

“Enough,” interrupted Dame Primus. “It does not matter. We must move onward and upward. The Drasils have wilted, and this tower now projects fully into the Incomparable Gardens, which has allowed Saturday to mass far more force there, with the Piper’s army hot on her heels. We must capture both of them quickly, before they can interfere or, in some unlikely event, defeat Lord Sunday.”

“That’d be orright, wouldn’t it?” said Suzy. “I mean, if they off ’im, that’s one less
—
”

“No, it would not be
orright
,” said Dame Primus. “It is Lord Arthur who must release Part Seven of myself and claim the Seventh Key. If Saturday or the Piper do so…all will go astray.”

“’Ows the ’ouse ’olding up, then?” asked Suzy.

“Pronounce your consonants and I may tell you,”
said Dame Primus. “For now, I desire all of you to stay close to me. That cursed Piper has got his army into the Gardens, so he’s sabotaged the moving chains, or else Saturday has, and the elevators go no further, so wings will be issued. Somebody organise a transport sling for the beastwort and the girl.”

A messenger corporal wrote
Transport Sling
on a slate and dashed away.

“We fly out and up in five minutes,” concluded Dame Primus. Her own magnificent wings were already in place. The feathers looked like they were made of beaten gold and powdered with diamonds, so they glittered when she moved.

Suzy inclined her head, Fred saluted, and Scamandros and Giac both gave very deep bows.

Dame Primus did not so much as nod. She turned on her spiked heel and strode away, already barking out orders to the flock of officers and messengers that surrounded her.

“I liked her better when she was just a frog,” said Suzy.

“So I definitely can’t take Leaf home,” said Fred.

“Nope. But you still ’ave to use the lead,” Suzy
pointed out. “Ain’t going to get Daisy into a transport sling by being nice to her.”

“Yes, we will,” said a weak voice from the ground. “I’ll ask her. I need her to carry me anyway.”

“Leaf!”

Suzy knelt by the girl’s side, as Dr Scamandros and Giac hurried over.

“Gently, my dear, gently,” instructed Scamandros. “You are held together by complex sorcery and must not move too quickly, or strain yourself, lest it all unravel.”

“Daisy will pick me up,” said Leaf weakly. “Did I hear you say something about me going home, Suzy?”

“Can’t,” said Suzy. “Old Primey gave a direct order. Got to bring you along.”

Leaf nodded. “That’s OK. I…I want to see it out now. I mean, however it goes. I might as well be there at the end.”

“The end,” whispered Giac. He shivered.

“Arthur will sort out Sunday,” said Suzy. “Don’t worry.”

“But what happens then?” asked Leaf. “What happens when the Will is complete and Arthur has all seven Keys?”

“He fixes everything up,” said Suzy quickly. Her consonant-dropping accent, always at its strongest when talking to Dame Primus, was almost completely gone and her voice had an urgency Leaf didn’t remember hearing from Suzy before. “Come on, we’d better get moving. Wings to put on, which reminds me, I asked Bren, Shan and Athan to snaffle us a bunch of the good ones, officer grade. Leaf, you ask Daisy to pick you up, see if she will. The rest of us’d better get back to the marshmallow fire, have a few before it’s too late.”

She’s really worried,
thought Leaf.
And now I’m not, for I was almost dead, but here I am, still alive. And where there’s life…

“Daisy!” she called out. “Would you be very kind and pick me up carefully and carry me on your back again? Please?”

Daisy quivered and stood up taller on her hundreds of feet. One tentacle scooped up Leaf and very carefully laid her on its back, the tip curling around to make sure she couldn’t fall off.

Fred smiled and dropped the lead back in Dr Scamandros’s pocket.

The transport sling was rather like an enormous upside-down parachute, though one made of very heavy material. Following the directions of a Borderer Wingmaster, Leaf had Daisy go to the middle of the vast circle of canvas. Then a hundred winged Borderers picked up the ropes that ringed the cloth and began to hover as high as the ceiling would allow.

“This is the tricky part,” called out the Wingmaster. “We can’t go up, because we have to go out first, so the sling’ll drop at first. Don’t be concerned, Admiral. Uh, how much does your beastwort weigh?”

“I don’t know,” Leaf answered. “It –
she –
is very light on her feet.”

“I’m sure there will be no problem,” said the Wingmaster. She somewhat lessened this confident prediction by bellowing to her troops, “Keep it together, people! Synchronisation is the key to a successful sling! If anyone drops a corner or lets our
very valuable
and
important
passengers slide out, I will rip your wings from you and throw your miserable carcass straight down so the Nothing gets a head start on dissolving you! Is that understood?”

“Yes, Wingmaster!” chorused the Borderers.

“You need help, then, Wingie?” asked Suzy. She and her Raiders, all equipped with glowing golden wings of the highest quality, were also ready to fly, after the sling.

“No, thank you,
General
,” replied the Wingmaster. “This is a very specialised operation, you understand.”

She flew out the side of the tower and looked all around before shouting her next orders. The Borderers began to fly out, dragging the ropes and the canvas sling behind them. As it neared the edge, Leaf swallowed. If the Borderers flying out behind were too slow, she and the beastwort would slide out the back of the sling – and it was a very, very long way down.

But the Borderers knew their business. There was a frightening moment when the sling swung out and fell, but its downward movement was almost immediately arrested as the slack was taken up on the ropes. Very quickly the whole sling was rapidly ascending, the hundred Denizens flapping their wings furiously to lift their burden.

Leaf lay on Daisy’s back and looked up at the
underside of the Incomparable Gardens. It was brown and dried-out looking, and there was an inverted forest of dead-looking roots or tendrils hanging down.

Above Leaf, stretching all the way to the hole in the Gardens around the tower’s top, there were thousands and thousands of flying soldiers. There were so many of them she felt like she was part of a giant swarm, a tiny mote in a vast, ascending cloud of avenging Denizens.

It was comforting to be a part of such a huge force, and especially to not be at the forefront of it, since even several thousand feet below the entrance hole to the Incomparable Gardens, Leaf could hear the boom and crash of massed Nothing-powder weapons. Battle had been joined somewhere above.

Suzy swooped down inside the sling, ignoring the Wingmaster’s shout to keep clear, and, flapping vigorously, landed near Leaf. Several of Daisy’s petals rotated to point at her, but Leaf patted the beastwort and no tentacles struck the new passenger.

“’Ow are you?” asked Suzy.

“I’m all right,” said Leaf. “I feel weak, but…I’m all right. Have you heard any news of Arthur?”

“Nope.”

“What about everything else?”

Suzy looked around and scratched her head, then she said very quietly, “I just heard the lower two parts of the Middle House are gone and Nothing is bubbling up the Extremely Grand Canal. The Border Sea is so mixed up with Nothing, it’s dangerous to sail. Luckily the Fleet got in and disembarked everyone just before we lost the Middle of the Middle. They’re flying up behind us now.”

“You said Arthur will fix everything up,” said Leaf. “He’s always come through before.”

“True,” said Suzy. She grinned. “Good point. I’d better go and check on the lads and lasses.”

Suzy’s wings beat down and she leaped into the air, climbing between the Borderers to the accompaniment of the Wingmaster’s shouts telling her to stay clear of the ropes.

“Glad I could cheer you up,” said Leaf to herself.

Pity I don’t feel so cheerful,
she thought.
Where are you, Arthur?

A
rthur was crouched down, hidden inside the sorcerous illusion of a shrub. At least he hoped he was hidden because he thought there was still at least one superior Denizen on the hilltop above him and possibly even Lord Sunday himself.

The dragonfly had hovered for only five minutes, long enough for Sunday and his entourage to land, do whatever they did on the hilltop and then depart again. But Arthur was pretty certain six passengers had got off the dragonfly and only five had re-embarked, and since it was hard to see from the
low angle inside the illusory shrub, Arthur wasn’t sure if the Trustee was one of the five.

He couldn’t feel the power emanating from the Seventh Key nearby, but perhaps Sunday was trying to hide his presence. Or, most likely, Lord Sunday
had
flown off again because he would need to use the Seventh Key against the invaders, particularly since Superior Saturday’s army would have been greatly aided by the intrusion of the tower, allowing her reinforcements to come straight into the Incomparable Gardens.

There was certainly fierce fighting going on, because Arthur could hear the distant rumble of Nothing-powder explosions, and he’d seen several displays of something that was not quite chain lightning dance across the sky. The explosions or the lightning had also started a wildfire in the Gardens. There was a steadily growing column of grey and white smoke rising near where the tower had punched through, the smoke spreading as it hit the ceiling-sky to form a dark pall that would soon block the sun.

Are you there, Part Seven?
thought Arthur.

There was no answer.

Arthur scratched his head. Very slowly, so as not to disrupt his camouflage.

Do I risk going up there?

Arthur made his decision and stood up. The illusory shrub grew taller, and then as Arthur moved, it moved too. Experimentally, Arthur raised his arm, and the branch that his arm was inside moved with it.

Arthur thought about using the Sixth Key to dismiss the illusion, but decided to keep it. A moving shrub probably wasn’t that out of the ordinary in the Incomparable Gardens. It might help him surprise whoever was waiting on the hill, or at least give him a few seconds’ advantage.

Carefully, he began to climb the grassy slope of the hill.

There was another decorative border near the top, only these were not earthly plants, but tall single stems of extruded metal that ended in crystalline blooms of translucent blue. Arthur’s disguise would not help him when he was among those flowers, so he stopped a little short of the top and crawled the last few feet so he could see who – or what – lay ahead.

The hilltop was grassed, save for a small area no more than twenty feet square that was paved with pale golden stones. A spring bubbled up nearby, feeding a beautiful narrow stream that flowed around the paved area before winding its way down the other side of the hill. There were small wildflowers scattered around the grass, white and yellow and faded blue splashes of colour against the green.

There was a ten-foot-tall cage in the middle of the paved area, a domed cage of gilded bars that looked as if it should have a bird in it, but instead contained a gnarled and shrunken apple tree, its branches heavy with tiny red fruit. Next to the cage was a telescope on a tripod. A Denizen was using the telescope, pointing it at the distant fighting near the tower. He was green-skinned and wore a patchwork coat of russet and orange leaves. From the scythe that was propped close against the cage, Arthur guessed he must be Sunday’s Dusk, otherwise known as the Reaper.

There was something else there too, something that made Arthur feel a pain somewhere deep inside. In front of the locked cage door there lay the body
of a yellow elephant, shrunken back to its original size. But something about the way he lay told Arthur he had not just become a toy again, but had been killed.

“Elephant,” Arthur whispered to himself. Then, without further thought, he charged, drawing his two Keys as he ran straight at the Reaper.

The Denizen, who had seemed so intent upon whatever he saw through the telescope, turned in a flash, his scythe in his hand. Arthur raised the Fifth Key and fired a blast of heat and light, but the Reaper ducked behind the cage and the Key’s attack washed across the gilded bars and disappeared, like water soaked up by a sponge.

Next Arthur flicked the Sixth Key while thinking dire thoughts of retribution. A blob of Activated Ink spat out and shot towards the Reaper, but again he ran round the cage and the ink missile vanished when it hit the bars.

“I’ll get you!” Arthur shouted. He could feel that familiar rage returning. How dare this green thing stand against him? He ran around to get a clear shot at the Denizen, but the Reaper was just as quick, keeping the cage between himself and Arthur.

“My Master will be here shortly,” called the Reaper as he crouched behind the cage to avoid another blast from the mirror. “It would be best for you, your mother and your friend Leaf if you surrendered now.”

Arthur stopped running and stood still, as if he was thinking about what the Reaper had said. But in fact he was thinking about how to get the Denizen. Obviously they could both run around the cage forever, which was evidently impervious to the Keys’ powers. But that still left one direction.

“How do I know—” Arthur started to say, but instead of continuing, he jumped easily twelve feet in the air and directed another blast at the Reaper.

The Denizen was ready even for this. He dived to the ground, twisted round and though a little of the blast reached him, most was deflected by his scythe.

Arthur landed lightly and ran clockwise. The Reaper jumped up and ran the same way.

“What have you done to Elephant? And where is Leaf?” asked Arthur.

“Surrender and I’ll tell you,” said the Reaper.

Arthur looked at the cage.

If I jump on top of that, I’ll be able to get him, he thought.

He had tensed to leap when the Will’s voice suddenly burst into his head.

No, Arthur! The cage is death! You must not touch the bars! That is what happened to your elephant.

Arthur stumbled forward and only just managed to keep his balance. He landed awkwardly, his face close to the cage, and saw that the apple tree was no mere tree. Its bark and leaves and apples were all made up of tiny shifting letters, arranged in lines of minuscule type.

The tree was Part Seven of the Will.

Arthur stared at it for a moment too long, giving the Reaper his chance. The scythe came slicing down. Arthur saw its moving shadow and dodged, but not quite fast enough. The blade cut his arm from shoulder to wrist and he dropped the Sixth Key.

The pain was intense and would have incapacitated a normal boy, but Arthur had long since learned to cope with pain. He twisted around and fired a blast from the Fifth Key straight up at the Reaper.

This time, he didn’t miss. The white-hot beam
went through the coat of autumn leaves and the green waistcoat behind, right through the Denizen’s chest, carving out a hole as wide as a dinner plate.

“Ouch,” said the Reaper. He staggered back a few feet and sat down.

“What have you done with Leaf?” asked Arthur again. He tried to pick up the Sixth Key, but his arm was useless.

Impatiently he focused on the Fifth Key, ordering it to heal him. Even more pain lashed through his body, but he gritted his teeth as the flesh rippled and reformed, and in a few seconds his arm was whole. Arthur grunted and picked up the quill pen.

The Reaper’s scythe lay near the Denizen. Arthur picked that up too, and threw it off the hill. It went several hundred yards, and for a moment Arthur watched it and wished that he could have once thrown a ball like that. But he never had, and he knew he never would.

“I do not have the heart to fight you now,” said the Reaper, indicating his hollow, cauterised chest. “In truth, it was a foregone conclusion. But I have played my part. My Master will deal with you now.”

He pointed to something in the sky.

Arthur followed his gaze. There was a dragonfly approaching. It was distant now, coming back from the tower and the smoke, but it would arrive in a matter of minutes.

“Not if I have the Will he won’t,” said Arthur. He turned back to the cage and knelt down by Elephant.

Bending his head, he whispered something no one else would ever know and picked up his oldest friend, taking extra care when he drew the animal’s trunk out from between the bars of the cage. Then, walking very slowly, he took him to the spring, and laid him down on the fresh green grass, next to the clear water.

The Reaper watched him, but made no move to interfere.

Arthur returned to the cage and looked at the rectangular door in the front. It had a lock plate the size of a postage stamp, with a very small keyhole.

So how do I open the cage and release you?
thought Arthur to the Will.
The Sixth Key writing on the lock?

No,
replied the Will.
Only the Seventh Key can turn that lock.

“What!?” exclaimed Arthur aloud. “But I can’t get the Key unless you help me!”

Indeed,
said the Will.
And I cannot help you obtain the Key from inside this cage. However—

I don’t believe this,
thought Arthur furiously. He looked out at the approaching dragonfly. He could almost feel those sorcerous shackles again and his eyes were burning…

There is always hope,
said the Will.
As I said, only the Seventh Key can turn the lock, but—

An incredibly loud boom interrupted the Will. Arthur was knocked to the ground by a shock wave that sent flowers and leaves flying, bowled the telescope and tripod over, and tumbled the Reaper almost to the edge of the hill.

Lying on his back, Arthur saw a huge fireball scream across the sky. A second later, there was another deafening boom and the earth shook as the fireball hit the ground about half a mile away and smashed its way through a dozen or more tall hedges and garden beds, starting even more fires.

“What was that?!” he exclaimed.

The Mariner’s sunship,
said the Will.
You must go to him and bring him back. Quickly! There is little time.

Arthur swung around. The dragonfly was getting
close. But there were other dots in the sky behind it. A great number of them.

You’d better hurry,
said the Will.
This is our chance!

Arthur ignored it. He picked up the telescope. It was very long and heavy, but he lined it up and held it steady.

The dragonfly had Lord Sunday aboard, and some of the dots behind were dragonflies too, but many more of them were Newniths with leather wings, and winged sorcerers of every rank and department. The Newniths and the Denizens were not fighting each other, but were attacking Sunday’s dragonflies together.

“Saturday’s joined the Piper,” said Arthur. “Or the other way around.”

Of course,
said the Will.
Without her Key, Saturday would be easily swayed to the Piper’s service.

As Arthur watched, Sunday’s rearguard was driven from the sky, the dragonflies overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of their enemies. But as the Newniths and sorcerers flew on, Sunday’s dragonfly suddenly turned back to face them. The Trustee gestured and great arcs of lightning played across the sky, striking down hundreds of his enemies. But there
were thousands, perhaps even tens of thousands more.

Sunday will soon realise that battle is not the most important thing,
said the Will.
Arthur! Pay attention!

Arthur kept watching. Sunday’s lightning was the most spectacular, but there were other things going on as well, too much to see in the limited field of view of the telescope. Thousands of the huge beetles with snapping jaws were scuttling in towards the action, and in the front ranks their carapaces were open to show bejewelled wings. They hadn’t yet launched into the air, but had the capacity to do so.

There were also lots of Nothing-powder explosions around the tower. Arthur shifted the telescope and grinned. Even as the Piper’s and Saturday’s forces harried Sunday’s rearguard, their own rearguard was under attack from Denizen soldiers in bright scarlet uniforms.

“Go, the Regiment!” shouted Arthur.

Arthur!

The Will’s shout was deafening.

The Mariner can open the cage! You must bring him before Lord Sunday returns or all will be lost!

As the Will shouted in his head, Arthur saw the
beetles take flight and Lord Sunday’s dragonfly turned again. It was headed straight for the hill, and flying faster than Arthur had seen any dragonfly go before.

Arthur dropped the telescope and ran down the hill in great leaps and strides, easily clearing a dozen feet each time, landing and springing off again in the same motion.

Even the wormsnake didn’t slow him down. He jumped straight on to it, raced lightly down its back and continued springing from coil to coil. At the end, he even bent down to pat its strange, stony hide, before jumping clear.

Arthur crossed the next terrace in a blur and was halfway down the steps to the one with the clock when he saw figures hurrying across the lawn below, clouds of billowing smoke at their heels. They all looked a bit singed, especially the leader. He was an old man with a white beard, very tall, wearing a blue naval coat and carrying a tall harpoon of curdled light. He was followed by a score or more of Denizens wearing blue pom-pom berets, blue-and-white-striped shirts and nankeen breeches, all of them armed to the teeth with sparking cutlasses or fiery
boarding pikes and quadruple-barrelled Nothing-powder pistols of imposing bore.

“Captain!” shouted Arthur as he tried to stop himself, his legs continuing to carry him down the steps. He waved and pointed at the approaching dragonfly. “Hurry! We have to get to the top of the hill before Lord Sunday! I need you to open a cage!”