Lady Friday

  ‘Quick!’ said Suzy. ‘Let’s get in before Uggie gets upset!’

  Twenty

  SUZY FLEW IN a shallow dive at the narrow crack, folded her wings beautifully, and slid through, disappearing from sight, though a loud ‘Ouch!’ announced that she had landed somewhere inside.

  Arthur and Fred tried to go at the same time, Arthur only just flapping back as he saw they would collide. Fred mistimed his entry and a dozen tip-feathers of his left wing exploded into the air like blown petals as they caught on the edge of the crack.

  Arthur flew in almost immediately after Fred. He managed to fold his wings properly but was going too fast. He landed at a run and then his legs buckled under him and he fell forward, striking the rocky ground on his elbows and knees, losing some skin under his paper clothes.

  ‘Dark in here,’ said Suzy, somewhere in the gloom. ‘Do you mind if I light my wings up, Arthur?’

  ‘Not too much. We don’t want to hurt the Servants.’

  Suzy muttered something and her folded wings began to emanate a soft, warm glow. Fred opened his mouth to ask his wings to shed light too, but Arthur interrupted.

  ‘Just Suzy’s for now, Fred. Are your wings all right, by the way? You lost some feathers on the way in.’

  ‘Did I?’ Fred twisted around, trying to look at his own back. ‘I think they’ll still work. I suppose I won’t know till I try to fly …’

  ‘At least there’s plenty of people outside to catch you,’ said Arthur. ‘We’d better remember to warn them, though, when you’re coming out. Suzy, can you see a way ahead?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Suzy. ‘We’re in a kind of tunnel. It’s narrow and winds around a bit, but we can get through.’

  She took a few steps and Arthur heard a splash.

  ‘Wet underfoot too,’ said Suzy. ‘Lots of puddles.’

  They followed the tunnel for at least a hundred yards, going ever deeper into the mountain. It got wetter too, water dripping from the walls and ceiling as well as pooling in puddles beneath their feet. Every twenty paces or so, Arthur checked the gold leaf crystal, and the arrow kept pointing farther in.

  At last, Suzy stopped. Arthur couldn’t see past her because the tunnel was so narrow.

  ‘There’s an iron gate,’ Suzy reported. Arthur heard her rattle it. ‘It’s locked.’

  ‘Is there a knocker or a bell?’ asked Fred.

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Fred,’ said Suzy. ‘The Servants wouldn’t put a knocker on their secret eyrie gate … Hmm …’

  Suzy reached up and pulled something, and they heard the jangle of several bells ringing together even deeper within the mountain.

  ‘Told you,’ said Fred.

  ‘It wasn’t a knocker anyway,’ replied Suzy. ‘I only said they wouldn’t have a knocker.’

  ‘Quiet,’ ordered Arthur. ‘Someone’s coming. Dim your wings a bit more, Suzy.’

  Suzy muttered and the light from her wings faded down to about the same luminosity as a child night-light, hardly enough to relieve the shadows around the three of them.

  ‘We should have got Fred to go first,’ whispered Arthur as they listened to whoever or whatever it was coming along the tunnel ahead of them. ‘To do the signs.’

  ‘They can hear all right,’ said Suzy. ‘And I was watching. I reckon I learned a few signs. I could try them out—’

  ‘No!’ Arthur and Fred said together. Arthur was about to add something but Suzy had started talking to a Servant the others couldn’t see.

  ‘Mornin’. Or hello again, in case we met last night. I’m Suzy Turquoise Blue and I’ve got Lord Arthur, the Rightful Heir to the Architect, behind me … and Fred, who can do your signs. Can we come through? Arthur has to find Part Five of the Will of the Architect. Thanks. By the way, have you lot ever thought about putting some drains in this tunnel? My feet are fair saturated—’

  ‘Suzy!’ whispered Arthur. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘What? Oh, no problem, Arthur. Lot of nodding, a bit of hissing, and now he’s going away.’

  ‘Did he open the gate?’

  ‘Nope, but he’s gone to get someone, I reckon.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ grumbled Arthur. ‘It is wet in here.’

  No one spoke for a few minutes, then Fred suddenly said, ‘You know, what if this whole tunnel is a drain?’

  ‘Fred …’ Arthur started to say, but then they all heard the jangling of keys, and Suzy said, ‘Greetings.’

  A key turned noisily in the lock and the gate creaked open. Suzy moved forward with the others sloshing along behind. The tunnel curved to the right and began to widen. Soon all three could walk abreast, and in the light from Suzy’s wings they could make out the shape of the Servant who was leading them past other tunnel openings, some of which had Servants standing in front of them, either at guard or out of curiosity to see who’d shown up.

  I hope we are treated as honoured visitors, thought Arthur. I don’t know how the Key would protect me from one of their firewash projectors. I’d probably get horribly burnt but wouldn’t die …

  They moved through the maze of tunnels for at least ten minutes and saw many Servants. The strange black leather-clad Denizens all had their snouted helmets on, and all of them watched silently, standing so still they might have been mistaken for statues.

  At last they came to a larger space, big enough that they couldn’t see the walls or the ceiling in the light from Suzy’s wings. A Servant stood waiting for them. Arthur wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed when he saw the moonstone claws on her gloves and recognised One Who Survived the Darkness.

  The Servant who had brought them to the place bowed to One Who Survived the Darkness and edged back out. Arthur nodded, Suzy gave a salute that was actually more respectful than she usually managed, and Fred bowed.

  ‘Greetings again,’ said Arthur. ‘I apologise for coming to your eyrie without an invitation. I have come to find Part Five of the Will of the Architect and I think it is here somewhere.’

  He took out the crystal and held it up. As he did so, he noticed that the arrow was now pointing down at a sharp angle.

  ‘Oh! It was pointing here,’ he said. ‘Now it says farther down. Are there deeper levels?’

  One Who Survived the Darkness made a series of signs.

  Fred translated, ‘ “You are welcome, Lord Arthur. I have long known someone would come, from my own” … Hmm … Don’t know what that sign is … “My own,” uh, “interior”?’

  One Who Survived the Darkness made another sign.

  ‘Close enough,’ said Fred. ‘Anyway, she’s known you would come here.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Arthur. ‘Good.’

  ‘“The place you seek lies below,” ’ translated Fred. ‘ “A guide will take you there to the … Interior” … no …“Inner Darkness.” ’ ‘Thanks,’ said Arthur.

  ‘ “Only you, Lord Arthur, may enter the secret place of the Winged Servants of the Night, but the others may go to the entrance.” ’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Arthur again.

  ‘ “Your guide will take you now. May we meet again” … uh, no … that’s actually “maybe we will meet again.” ’ ‘I hope we do,’ said Arthur. He turned to find a Servant standing silently directly behind him, and jumped.

  The Servant beckoned and turned to go. Arthur nodded to One Who Survived the Darkness and quickly followed, with Suzy and Fred at his heels.

  The guide led them through yet more tunnels and tunnel junctions, and once more past many Servants. Arthur wasn’t sure whether they were new ones, in which case there were an awful lot of Winged Servants of the Night inside the mountain. They all looked pretty much the same in their leather suits and snout-masked helmets.

  After a while they reached a tunnel that slanted sharply down. It was barred by another iron gate, which the Servant unlocked with a key the size of Arthur’s hand. After the gate there was a series of very broad steps that took them down even more swiftly, and then at the base of th
e steps there was an iron manhole cover that would not have looked out of place in the Balaena, the Raised Rats’ submarine that Arthur and Suzy had travelled in under the Border Sea.

  The Servant spun the locking wheel on the manhole cover and heaved it open. A wet, cold draft came billowing out, along with a curious, musty odour.

  ‘Phew! Bit of a stink,’ said Suzy as she held her nose. ‘What’s that from?’ …

  The Servant made some signs.

  ‘ “The untrained animal,” ’ translated Fred.

  The Servant shook his head and added some more signs and then repeated the first ones he’d used.

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Fred. ‘The Beast. A special kind of beast … the Beast in the Inner Darkness, or something like that.’

  They all watched the Servant’s hands move again, the webbing between the fingers of its black gloves stretching as its fingers flickered, signing out another message.

  ‘ “We worship it … we fear it … ” ’ translated Fred. ‘ “It” … I can’t quite work out this bit …’

  The Winged Servant of the Night repeated the signs. Fred shook his head. Then the Servant pointed at itself, put three fingers in the fixed open mouth of its sharp-snouted mask, and for the first time made a sound. A chewing sound.

  ‘Oh,’ said Fred. He gulped and continued, ‘ “Sometimes it eats one of us.” Look, I’m not sure you should go in, Arthur.’

  ‘Part Five of the Will is down there,’ said Arthur, checking the crystal again to make sure the arrow was pointing in the same direction. ‘I’m pretty … I’m fairly sure. I’ll be perfectly safe.’

  ‘What if it’s something else?’

  ‘The Key will protect me,’ said Arthur. He tapped the end of the marshal’s baton. It felt comforting to know it was still there.

  ‘It will make sure you don’t get completely killed,’ said Suzy. ‘But it won’t stop you from getting your leg chewed off. Slowly.’

  ‘Thanks for that reminder.’

  ‘I’d better go with you,’ Suzy insisted. ‘I’m interested in this Inner Darkness anyway. It wouldn’t be a bother—’

  The Servant shook his head and pointed at Arthur, then waved his open palm in a dismissive gesture in front of Suzy and Fred, before adding several other emphatic finger signs.

  ‘ “As One Who Survived the Darkness said, only Arthur is allowed to enter the secret place of the Winged Servants of the Night,” ’ interpreted Fred. ‘ “If the Beast does not eat him, he will return safely.” ’

  ‘I’m sure it’s the Will.’ Arthur knew that by saying it aloud he actually made himself less confident, but he couldn’t help it. He only just managed not to say it several more times. ‘I’d better get going.’

  ‘Good luck, Arthur,’ said Suzy. ‘If the Beast does bite your leg off, or your arms, you know that I’ll—’

  ‘I know, I know,’ interrupted Arthur hastily, eager to forestall any more of Suzy’s helpful comments.

  ‘It’ll be the Will for sure,’ said Fred, though his voice cracked. He stood at attention and saluted. Arthur recognised it as the kind of ultra-snappy salute you give to someone who’s going on a mission from which it is likely there will be no return.

  Arthur gave a more informal wave back and turned away, mainly to hide the fear that he was sure was showing on his face. He didn’t want Fred and Suzy to see that.

  Under the manhole cover there was the open shaft, a vertical tunnel leading down into the heart of the mountain. The Inner Darkness of the Middle House.

  ‘Can I illuminate my wings?’ asked Arthur.

  The Servant shook his head, an emphatic ‘no.’

  ‘Thought not,’ said Arthur.

  The Servant paused for a moment, as if he too had to gather his courage, then he climbed into the manhole and disappeared. Arthur took a deep breath, checked the Key on his belt again, and followed the Denizen into the darkness.

  Twenty-one

  THE LADDER WENT a long, long way down, and after the first twenty feet there was no light at all. Even looking back up, Arthur couldn’t see anything. Suzy’s wings were too far from the manhole and the shaft was too narrow. He could hear the Servant below him, the metal claws on his boot tips loud on the rungs of the iron ladder.

  Several hundred feet down – or so Arthur guessed – he heard the sound of those clawed boots change, and a second later his own boots found no more rungs below. There was a smooth floor for as far as he could reach while still holding on to the ladder. There was no way he was going to let go. There might be holes only feet away, or deep crevasses that ultimately might lead to Nothing.

  Or the Beast itself, unseen. Waiting in the darkness.

  Something touched Arthur’s arm, just above the elbow. He flinched and swallowed a shriek, even as he heard the click-clack of claws and knew it was the Servant. The strange Denizen gripped his arm and began to lead him away, Arthur reluctantly relinquishing his hold on the ladder. The ladder that was the only hope of leaving this black hole.

  Slowly, they walked deeper into the Inner Darkness. It was a cavern, Arthur presumed, but that was only because it felt and sounded like stone underfoot, and because it was inside the mountain. It might simply be a room, one cavernous enough for the echo of their footsteps to sound as if it came from far away.

  Ten paces … twenty paces … thirty … Arthur couldn’t tell whether they were walking in a straight line or weaving a bit, the Servant gently steering him around obstacles.

  Forty paces … fifty … The Servant slowed down. Arthur heard something that wasn’t just the echo of their footsteps. A soft, deep hiss like the sound of a punctured tyre. A very big tyre with a very slow puncture.

  Breathing, thought Arthur. Wheezy breathing from something with very, very big lungs … The Servant stopped. Arthur stopped too, swaying back from an almost-step.

  ‘Is it here?’ Arthur whispered. He couldn’t help himself from gripping the Fourth Key with his left hand almost as hard as the Servant was holding his arm.

  They both stood utterly still. Arthur could hear the breathing getting louder. Getting closer. He could hear his own breathing grow louder, and his heart started to beat faster, tapping out a message of fear to the rest of his body. The pulse in his neck felt as if it might break out of the skin.

  Suddenly there was a mighty rush of displaced air. Arthur felt movement, close by. The Servant’s grip tightened like a sudden twist of a vice, only to release an instant later as hand, arm, and indeed the whole Servant were snatched away, his still-closed fingers ripping through Arthur’s paper coat, paper shirt, and skin.

  Arthur cried out, but the Denizen did not. He made no sound and for a few seconds all Arthur could hear was the breathing of the Beast.

  Then it began to chew. The awful sound of a particularly rude dinner-table companion, magnified many times.

  It was too much for Arthur to bear in the darkness. It was too much not to know exactly what was making the awful noise.

  He didn’t think it through, or consider his vow not to use sorcery, didn’t think he could have his wings shed light. Fear of the unknown, fear of the dark, was as deeply implanted in his psyche as in any human’s, and he couldn’t take any more.

  He drew the Fourth Key completely from its sheath and held it high, speaking in a shrill and shaking voice that he barely recognised as his own.

  ‘Light! Give me lots and lots of light!’

  The Key began to glow with a soft, golden radiance, then before Arthur could do more than half-glance away and lid his eyes, it exploded into brilliant white light, brighter than any electric light Arthur had ever switched on, with his face effectively only inches from the source.

  Something out in the former darkness shrieked so loudly the noise hurt Arthur’s ears. It was a frantic Kee-kee-kee-kee of extreme discomfort, pitched at a tone that would have surely shattered glass if there had been any present.

  Arthur tried to see what was shrieking but he was as blinded by the light as he had
been by the dark a moment before.

  ‘Less light!’ he shouted urgently, focusing his thoughts on the Key. ‘Much less light!’

  Slowly the brilliance ebbed. Arthur shielded his eyes with his right forearm and looked around. He was in a truly vast cavern of pallid green stone, and his stomach flip-flopped to see that the iron ladder came straight down the middle of it, stretching up into thin air farther than the light illuminated.

  The Beast was only twenty yards away, lying on a bed of thousands of multicoloured pebbles. It was shielding its head too, but with one enormous, leathery wing that stretched from the wrist of a russet-furred forearm to the ankle of a blue-scaled leg. It was about forty feet long and to Arthur’s eye looked to be a weird mixture of bat and dragon.

  It was lizardlike from the waist down, scaled in blue iridescence, with a long, club-ended tail. From the waist up, it had red fur like a fox, and its wings were pale black and partially transparent, the bones very obvious, like struts in an old biplane’s paper wing.

  It had huge, pink, four-fingered taloned paws, so dextrous they could almost be hands.

  In its left paw, it held the Servant, now looking like a normal Denizen, albeit one in a pale red one-piece undergarment with attached socks. He had been stripped of wings, helmet, and flying suit. All those items were in the Beast’s right paw, scrunched up into a ball.

  Arthur stared as the creature slowly lowered its shielding wing to reveal a fierce, foxlike head with huge, round eyes of limpid brown and a long, tapered mouth replete with rows and rows of sharp, narrow teeth.

  Arthur stared even more as he saw the collar around its neck. Or, to be exact, the silver, sharp-tined crown that was welded in place, the points blunted under the Beast’s chin. It made the creature look like some bizarre heraldic creature. A loose chain led from the crown-collar off into the dark.

  The Beast opened its mouth wide, and Arthur forgot the crown. But before he could even think of doing anything, it suddenly threw up one hand and snapped down on what it had been holding, jaws closing with a resounding snap.