Lady Friday (8 page)

It was getting dark outside. The sun—or
suns,
since there might be more than one high above the clouds—was setting. In the twilight, made still darker by the steady fall of snow, Arthur studied the faces of the two Piper’s children and the male Denizen or New Nithling who stood between them.

The two children certainly looked like Suzy Turquoise Blue and Fred Initial Numbers Gold, but they were in the uniforms of the Piper’s army, and the soldier between them was definitely a New Nithling. He appeared to be a Denizen at first, but Arthur saw that he had seven fingers on each hand and the small dent in the middle of his forehead under the black fur hat was not a bruise but a third eye, a quarter the size of the other two.

Arthur looked out for ten long seconds, blinking his eyes against the cold wind that blew in through the slot. He didn’t know what to do, or think. He badly wanted to let Suzy and Fred in, but he couldn’t help remembering what Dame Primus had said: All the Piper’s children were suspect ... and he was alone.

Finally, he looked away. Staring at the ground, he spoke.

“I don’t think I can let you in. You’re in the Piper’s uniform, so you serve him now.”

“Not on purpose!” called out Suzy. “He made us wear the uniforms, but he never got around to ordering us to do anything else. It’s me, Suzy Turquoise Blue! I never do what I’m told anyway. I’m definitely not going to obey the Piper ... ah ... urg ...”

Arthur looked out again. Suzy was on her knees in the snow, struggling with a rope or something that was around her neck. Arthur couldn’t quite see it, but it was strangling her. Fred was trying to get his fingers under it without success, but the Nithling soldier was paying no attention, instead looking back out across the snowy plain.

“Of course she’ll obey!” shouted Fred. “We both will! We’ll follow orders! Nod your head, Suzy!”

Suzy nodded desperately. Fred let go of the noose or stranglecord, and the girl took a huge intake of breath and then burst into a paroxysm of coughing.

“What was that?” asked Arthur.

Fred pulled his collar down and took a few paces closer to the door. Arthur still couldn’t see clearly, but there was something around Fred’s neck. A thin line of writing—a tattoo perhaps.

“The Piper put a spell on us,” said Fred. “If we disobey a direct order, or talk about disobeying, it chokes us. But we were never ordered to attack you, Arthur, or anything like that. We got away first. Can we come in and get warm and talk?”

Arthur hesitated. He really wanted to have Fred and Suzy as friends again, and talk over everything. But he just couldn’t be sure they could be trusted.

“What about the New Nithling soldier?” he asked.

“Banneret Ugham?” croaked Suzy as she staggered to her feet and massaged her throat. “He says he’s only been ordered to look after us and so that’s what he’s going to do. You haven’t been ordered to attack Arthur or anything, have you, Uggie?”

“I have no present quarrel with Lord Arthur,” said Ugham. His voice was surprisingly high and rather flutelike, quite at odds with his size and fearsome appearance. In addition to his charged spear, he had a broad-bladed sword hanging from the left side of his belt and a knife with a bronze knuckle-duster hilt on the right. A big knuckle-duster, to cater for his seven fingers.

Arthur noted that Suzy and Fred also had knuckle-duster knives on their belts, smaller ones, scaled to fit their hands. So if they were enemies, he’d be facing three blades at the least.

“Indeed, it may be such that we face a common foe and should join hands with Lord Arthur against this enemy,” Ugham continued, pointing with his spear at a vast line of hundreds of Fetchers that had suddenly come into sight about a hundred yards away, a dark mass of Nithlings stark against the snow. They marched forward a few paces and then stopped and somewhere behind them came a distant, disturbing shout from something that sounded neither human, Denizen, nor Fetcher—a kind of squealing shriek that was suddenly stifled, as if a muzzle had been applied. The sound of it made the Fetchers quiver in their ranks and sent a visible shiver through Fred and Suzy. Arthur felt it himself. There was just something
wrong
about it.

“I’m in favor,” croaked Suzy.

“Aye!” called out Fred.

Both of them came closer to the door and together said,
“
Arthur?”

I really hope this isn’t a trick,
thought Arthur.
I guess if I absolutely have to, I can use the Key ....

“Aye,” he said, and he lifted the beam and slid back the locking bolts.

All three were inside a minute later. Suzy clapped Arthur on the back, but Fred just nodded firmly, looking him in the eye, their gaze that of two soldiers who have met again in trying circumstances. Ugham bowed to Arthur, then immediately helped to re-bar and bolt the door, before crouching to keep watch through the mail slot.

“Thanks, Arthur. It’s good to get out of that snow,” said Suzy with a shiver. “Beats me why Fred’s lot like it so much here.”

“We don’t like the snow,” said Fred. “The weather’s been busted for years. Not to mention the diurnal cycle.”

“What’s that?” asked Suzy.

“The routine of day and night,” said Fred. “We had a year of night once, before someone got the sun up again.”

“It’s good to see you,” said Arthur gruffly. “I thought ... I thought I might not, after you were captured.”

“Oh, well, we’re just like bad pennies,” said Suzy cheerfully. “Always turn up when least expected. Like those Fetchers outside. Whose are they, do you know? Can we go properly inside? Somewhere with a fire?”

She started to turn the handle of the inner door, but Arthur intervened.

“No, it’s too noisy in there. Let’s talk for a minute here, if the Fetchers aren’t advancing.”

“Methinks they wait for some commander or personage of note,” said Ugham. “I have not bickered with

Fetchers afore now. I have heard word of them as minor servants, sent forth to seek and steal. They would be unworthy opponents for such as we, save they come in such numbers as valor could not withstand.”

“I wonder what they’re waiting for,” said Fred. “What was that horrible scream?”

“They’re probably waiting for Saturday’s Dusk or one of her other main servants,” Arthur ventured. “Though the Dusk I met in the Pit didn’t sound like that. We’d better not waste time .... What I want to know is how you got here. Why did the Piper send you two here ... and, er, Banneret Ugham, of course? What happened after you were captured?”

“Uh, the Piper didn’t send us,” said Fred, his forehead knotted into a frown. “It’s a bit of a long story. I suppose I’d better start at the beginning, though I’m a bit hazy about the start—everything went black for me when the Piper came up the ramp—”

“Me too,” interrupted Suzy. “I just conked out when I heard his pipe. Dunno what happened then.”

“You all went completely still,” said Arthur. “Like statues. Sir Thursday went into the Improbable Stair and I went with him, but I threw the pocket in the Spike first, which was just as well, because it blew the Spike up or something so the Maze could move again.”

“We knew the Spike had gone, later on, because the New Nithlings told us,” said Fred. “That was when I woke up again, in their camp, with this thing on my throat.”

He pointed to the line around his neck. On closer examination, Arthur could see that it was a tattoo, or perhaps writing in some kind of indelible ink. Bending closer still, he could just make out the tiny letters and the words they made up. Like the letters in the Will, these ones also moved and shimmered and changed alphabets and were therefore even more difficult to read.

“‘I will serve ... and obey ... the Piper to my ... last breath,’” Arthur read.

“One of the Newniths ... what they call themselves ... told me that’s what it said,” continued Fred. “They treated me ... all of us ... pretty well, though they made us wear these uniforms and they kept us locked up. Ugham was our guard. That was because the Piper had left for somewhere else and hadn’t given us any instructions. I guess after about twelve hours, or more maybe, he came back and we were taken in to see him. He was furious about something, but was kind of weird about it. He kept breaking things and throwing his arms up and down but he was whispering, not shouting. It was really hard to hear him. That went on for a while, then this Denizen got dragged in by the guards. He said he had a message from Lady Friday about abdicating and leaving the Key—”

“Yeah, I got that message too,” Arthur chimed in.

“Then he tried to give the Piper this metal tablet, but the Piper made him drop it on the ground and told no one to touch it because it was probably a nefarious device. One of the Newniths opened up the package with a spear point and the Piper was talking about it when Suzy whispered to me—”

“I said, ‘I reckon that’s a Transfer Plate,’” said Suzy. “So I jumped for it and Fred jumped after me and Ugham tried to catch both of us and so we were all connected when I touched the plate ... and here we are. Is there a fire inside? Or some hot water? I think my fingers might be about to drop off.”

“Lady Friday’s messenger,” asked Arthur. “Did you hear him say that the Fifth Key has been left in Friday’s Scriptorium, for me or Saturday or the Piper?”

“Yes,” said Fred. Suzy nodded. Ugham turned back from the mail slot for a moment to also nod gravely.

“Part Five of the Will is somewhere here in the Middle House too,” continued Arthur. “At least Friday’s message said so. I suppose none of it may be true.”

“I reckon the Piper believed it,” said Suzy. “About the

Key anyway. Just before we jumped, he was whispering away with his generals about how to seize it first.”

“I guess Superior Saturday believes it’s here as well,” added Arthur. “Those Fetchers must be hers .... She controls the elevators; she can send anything down here. Which reminds me—I wonder where my lookouts are.”

He looked up at the ceiling in puzzlement, then shook his head.

“Uh, I forgot, they’ve probably gone to report in the main chamber. This door can lead into two places, depending on which way you turn the handle.”

“Let’s go to the warm place, then,” said Suzy. “I wonder if they’ve got any tea.”

“What are the Fetchers doing?” asked Arthur.

“They stand in some disorder,” said Ugham. “But perchance I spy some other ... yes ... a Superior Denizen alights from the cloud. His wings are silver.”

“Saturday’s Dusk, probably,” said Arthur. “That’s not good.”

“Old silver wings? The Lieutenant Keeper saw him off when I was in the Door,” said Suzy. “So you should have no trouble, Arthur, with the Key.”

“You know I don’t want to use the Key,” said Arthur sharply. “We’d better get inside and ask if there’s another way out.”

He turned the handle and opened the door—but instead of opening onto the main gold pool chamber it opened onto the gloomy interior of the tower.

“I must have done it wrong,” said Arthur. He shut the door, turned the handle the other way, and opened the door again, but once more there was only the tower interior beyond.

“Were you expecting something else?” asked Suzy.

“Yes,” snapped Arthur. “The inner chamber! Elibazeth said they had other defenses. I guess this is one. I’ll ask my sentries.”

He started up the steps with Suzy and Fred following, but by the time they reached the first landing, he knew from the silence above that Jugguth and the other two Denizens had probably gone back inside the main chamber—and Elibazeth had then closed it off. Running up to the next two landings proved this to be the case. The tower was deserted and the only way out was back down and through the front door.

The only obvious way out,
thought Arthur.
But perhaps there is another exit after all ....

“What are the Fetchers doing?” he shouted downstairs, at the same time as he opened one of the shutters on the north side of the tower.

“They still stand like the cattle they are,” reported Ugham. “But the silver-wing’d Denizen comes forward, bearing aloft a white cloth. He seeks a parley, methinks. Doubtless he fears they have not the strength to carry the day against Lord Arthur’s Key.”

Arthur looked out the window, onto the groaning, ice-edged waterwheel, a huge and menacing machine made somehow scarier by the gathering darkness beyond. He watched it turn. If it was slow enough, he thought it would be possible to climb out onto one of the flat spokes and be carried and slide down to the ground, out of sight of the Fetchers on the southern and eastern side. Or he’d fall into the canal and drown or get frozen to death.

It was slow enough, Arthur reckoned, though it would still be a dangerous path to the canal bank. But then the only other way would be to fight through the Fetchers and Saturday’s Dusk, and Arthur was not confident about doing that. At least not without using the full powers of the Key.

“Ugham!” shouted Arthur. “Tell Saturday’s Dusk you have to go inside to get me. Tell him to come back in half an hour. That should give us a reasonable head start.”

“What are we going to do?” asked Fred.

Arthur pointed out the window.

“We’re going to climb out onto a spoke of the wheel and get carried down, jumping off just before it hits the water. Then we’ll head west along the canal to where the Paper Pushers are.”

“Hmmph,” said Suzy. “Back into the cold, in other words.”

“Yes,” confirmed Arthur. “Back into the cold.”

Leaf shivered as the sleepwalkers slid off their beds and formed a line in obedience to Harrison’s orders. There was something awful and creepy about their unseeing, half-open eyes and their floppy movements. Almost as if they were like perfect string puppet representations of humans, only with invisible strings.

“Follow me!” called out Harrison, and he walked to the far door. Lowering the silver cone, he added in his own weak voice, “You too, Leaf! Bring up the rear.”

“What if I don’t?” Leaf asked rebelliously. She tried to project a more aggressive tone than she felt, but she sounded weak and childish, even to herself.

“I can make the sleepers bring you,” said Harrison. “Though they would hurt themselves in the process. Please, it would be easier for everyone if you just come along.”

“I’m not helping you take these people to get killed,” said Leaf.

“They don’t get killed,” said Harrison, but he didn’t look at Leaf when he spoke. “They’ll still be alive at the end of the day. After She’s finished with them. Come on! We’ll both get punished if we’re late.”

“I’m not cooperating,” said Leaf. “But I want to see what’s outside, so I guess I’ll come along.”

“You’ll learn,” said Harrison sourly. He slid back the two bolts securing the outside door and then wrestled with the long handle, the sound of a large and stiff lock clicking back inside. Then he pushed the door open, using his shoulder and grunting with the effort, as the door was several inches thick and the outer face was lined with steel plate.

Purple light streamed in, casting an unattractive glow over the faces of Harrison and the sleepers. Leaf slitted her eyes, not because it was too bright, just that the color was too intense, and it made her feel slightly ill.

It was warmer out in the purple sunlight, and a light breeze ruffled Leaf’s hair, bringing with it a strange, slightly earthy scent, reminiscent of forests she’d walked in previously but overlaid with something like an exotic spice.

There was smooth gray rock underfoot, whorled in patterns to show it had once been lava, long cooled. The rock shelved down gently to the lake in the middle, which looked like normal water, though it too was tinged purple by the light.

Leaf looked around and saw that the crater wall reached up three or four hundred feet. It was dotted with windows of various sizes and there were some doors high up as well, with suspended walkways hugging the cliff between them. Farther around the crater, probably where the twelve would be on the notional clock-face scheme, there was a broad iron balcony just below where the dome began. A spiral stair of red wrought iron ran down from the balcony all the way to the crater floor.

“Hurry up!” called Harrison. He was leading the sleepers down to the lakeshore and they had gotten thirty or forty yards ahead while Leaf stared up at the crater walls and the dome.

Leaf ignored him and continued to look around. Apart from the door they had come out, there were at least a dozen crater-level doors spaced around the rim. But they would probably all lead back into Lady Friday’s complex, and so offered nothing useful. Or worse, they might lead to the jungle beyond the mountain. After encountering the walking seedpod, Leaf totally believed Milka that she didn’t want to go there.

She also didn’t want to see what was going to happen to the sleepers, but there didn’t appear to be any alternative. The crater was all featureless gray stone, without an outcrop or anything to hide behind. Unless she could breathe underwater, the lake was out.

“Come on!” Harrison was down at the lakeshore now, ordering the sleepers to stand in a line facing the water. Or, as Leaf now saw, facing a slim pillar of darker stone that rose up in the very center of the lake, and so was also in the very center of the crater. It was about twenty feet wide at the water and ended in a flat top about four feet wide some fifteen feet above the level of the lake.

Leaf started heading over to Harrison, but she still kept looking for somewhere to hide. As she walked, she noticed movement up on the balcony at the twelve o’clock position. Several Denizens were flexing their wings—wings that were not discolored by the purple sunlight. They were bright yellow, the color of daisy heads. Leaf watched four of them launch from the balcony. They carried a chair suspended on ropes beneath them, a silver chair with a high, curving back that looked almost like a throne.

A
picnic throne,
Leaf thought.
And no points for guessing who that’s for .....

She slowed again and looked once more for a hiding spot. Harrison was fussing around with the last of his sleepers, tilting an old woman’s head back so that, like the others, she was looking at the spire in the lake.

Leaf saw a crack in the stone, a shadow that might be just wide enough for her to climb into. She ran over to it and knelt down. It was a very narrow crevasse, but she thought it was a little wider than she was at the top, and it was broader below. It was also only four feet deep, but it looked like there was a hole in one corner that might lead deeper.

She took a breath and climbed down. It was a tight squeeze and she grazed her hip as she twisted around, but then she was in. Leaf sighed and crawled to the hole. As she’d hoped, it led farther into the stony ground—it was impossible to say how far, as the purple sunlight only lit up the first part of the hole and it clearly went much deeper. Deep into darkness.

She was about to crawl in anyway when she smelled something familiar. Familiar yet repulsive, an odor that made her instantly flinch, even though she didn’t immediately recognize it. It was a damp, rotten kind of smell and it made the gorge rise in her throat, and that was what made her remember when she’d smelled it before.

The mind-control mold she’d thrown up had smelled just like what she was smelling now ....

Leaf recoiled, this time scraping the skin off her elbows as she tried to squirm out of the narrow crack even faster than she’d gone in. As she hoisted herself up, a thin tendril of gray fungus came quivering out of the dark and slowly felt around the spot where her feet had been only a few seconds before.

Leaf threw herself back and landed badly, hurting herself. But she didn’t stop, scuttling back with a sobbing cry to find herself at the feet of Harrison. He helped her up as she cried out.

“Fungus! The mind-control fungus!”

“The gray creeper?” said Harrison. “The spores do get in occasionally and root in the cracks. It’s not so bad, that one. It’ll only give you nightmares. Still, I’ll report it. One of the guards will burn it out. Come on—we have to get back a safe distance.”

Leaf followed him meekly. The smell of the gray fungus was still everywhere in her nose and mouth. She could taste it and she could remember the terrible pressure in her head when it was establishing itself

She stopped to dry retch for a moment, but Harrison came back and pulled her along by her wrist.

“Come on! They’ve put the chair down. She’ll fly down any minute and we have to be back almost to the door or we might get caught up too!”

The two of them scrambled back to the door and Leaf collapsed, coughing. Her legs ached and her mouth felt horrible, made no better by the loose threads that stuck to her tongue as she dragged the sleeve of her robe across her face. Leaf spat them out, in the process looking up and out across the lake.

The silver chair was on the pillar of dark stone. The four Denizens hovered in formation around it; the lake roiled underneath from the downbeat of their wings.

High on the balcony, a star flashed into being, or so it seemed to Leaf. A light too bright to look at, that leaped into the air and then slowly descended towards the pillar and the chair.

The light dimmed as the star fell, and through scrunched-up eyes Leaf saw that it was Lady Friday, her long, radiantly yellow wings stretched out for ten feet to either side, tip feathers ruffling as she glided down to alight on the silver chair. The radiance came from something she held in her hand, the same bright object she’d held before when leading the sleepers to the hospital pool.

The twelve sleepers raised their arms as Lady Friday settled on the chair. Leaf heard Harrison suck in air and hold it with a kind of choking noise, and she felt her own breath catch. Lady Friday languidly lifted the shining object in her hand and the light from it dimmed, then suddenly flashed, lighting up everything in the crater as if it were a giant camera flash. In that instant, the lake turned silver, like reflective glass, as did the dome above.

It felt like time stopped. Leaf was motionless, held in that light, as if caught in a still photograph. Nothing moved and she could hear no sound, not even her own beating heart. Then, very slowly, in the slowest of slow motions, she saw something coming out of the mouths and eyes of the sleepers. Tendrils of many colors, twining and twisting as they stretched across the water to the bright star in Friday’s hand.

It was as if the Trustee was drawing colored threads out of their bodies. As the tendrils reached her, the light in her hand changed, the white giving way to a rainbow cluster of red, blue, green, and violet.

Then the tendrils snapped off at the sleepers’ end and the trailing pieces whipped and curled as they crossed the lake into Friday’s hand. The sleepers slowly crumpled to the ground, so slowly that Leaf felt as if it took seconds for them to fall.

Friday raised the glowing rainbow concoction to her mouth, tipped her head back, and drank it down. Most of the brilliant, multicolored threads went in, but she was a careless drinker and some short fragments fell and splashed on the rock before trickling down to the lake.

As Friday drank, the world returned to its normal state. Leaf heard her heartbeat come back, felt her breath rush in through nose and mouth, saw the purple sunlight wash down through the dome.

Lady Friday flexed her wings and launched into the air. Her cohorts descended to lift the chair by its straps.

“What did she do?” asked Leaf, very quietly. The sleepers were lying on the stone. Whether they still lived or not, they were still.

“She experienced them,” said Harrison. His tone was flat and hollow as if he too was shocked by what he had seen, though he had seen it many times before. “Absorbed their lives, their memories and experience. The best parts, that’s what she wants. To feel how they lived, how they loved, all their excitements, triumphs, and joys.”

“What happens to the sleepers after ... afterward?”

“They never really wake up,” whispered Harrison. “They used to be returned to Earth. Now, with so many, I don’t know ... oh, no! She’s coming over here ....”

Harrison bowed his head and knelt down. Leaf stood up and tried to look at the Trustee who was flying towards her, but once again the object in Lady Friday’s hand was shining, and it was too bright. Leaf had to look down and then shield her eyes with her hand as Lady Friday landed in front of her, the rush of air from her wings cool on Leaf’s face.

“So, you’re the small troublemaker who foiled Saturday’s Cocigrue,” said Lady Friday. Her voice was soft but very penetrating, and it demanded attention. “Leaf, friend of the so-called Rightful Heir, this Arthur Penhaligon. How kind of you to visit.”