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 his 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 around 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 Key’s 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 dove to the ground, twisted around, 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 re-formed, 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. I
t 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 onto 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!’
Twenty-five
LEAF LOOKED AROUND in wonder as she and Daisy were carried up through the hole in the underside of the Incomparable Gardens. The impact of the tower had greatly enlarged the initial hole made by the assault ram, creating a circular gap at least half a mile in diameter. As they flew up through this, Leaf could see a cross section of the materials that made up the floor of the Gardens. There were stratified bands of several different shining metals, four varieties of crystal, and, near the top, lots of what looked like just plain old dirt. There were also secret tunnels exposed, and the cutoff roots of the hanging plants that had once plucked fliers from the sky below.
Saturday’s tower had been damaged too, of course. The top floors were bent and missing office cubes around the edges. They were occupied by Borderers now, who hung out the sides and kept watch with their muscle-fibre bows, occasionally shooting a winged sorcerer or Newnith who tried to come back down the hole.
Leaf hadn’t known what to expect when they emerged into the Incomparable Gardens itself, but she hadn’t thought it would be into a vast and only loosely organised horde of flying Denizens, heavily mixed with smoke that reminded her very much of the bushfires at home. She coughed and wiped her eyes as she tried to look around. There were Denizens hovering about all over the place, getting organised into massed formations that were stacking up above her and for miles on either side of the tower.
In the distance, through the swirling smoke, Leaf could see the flashes of Nothing-powder muskets and carbines, and several times amazing lightning flickered across the sky.
The Borderers carrying the transport sling flew across and up to find their place in the line between a battalion from the Regiment on the left, a detached cohort of the Legion above, and a squadron of the Horde to the right. The Horde troopers were riding winged Not-Horses, which Leaf hadn’t even known existed. The Not-Horses’ wings were easily thirty feet across and made of a silver, pearly metal, and clattered like venetian blinds. The troopers on their backs carried very long lances made entirely of bright steel, with small pennons hanging near the needle-like points.
It all looked amazing, and even as exhausted and sick as she felt, Leaf still felt a small thrill to be part of this great enterprise.
She wished she knew what was going on. She couldn’t see Dame Primus or Suzy because there were just too many Denizens in the sky, too much colour and sound and movement.
‘What are we doing?’ she called up to the Wingmaster circling above, one hand idly conducting, making sure her troops beat their wings together.
‘Waiting for orders!’ the Wingmaster called back. ‘Hurry up and wait . . . hurry up and wait . . . just like always. Could be hours.’
But the Wingmaster was wrong. Only a few minutes passed, with Leaf scanning the throng to see if she could find Suzy, before Dame Primus spoke, her voice amplified by the Keys she bore, so that everyone in the Army could hear her, even though most of them, like Leaf, couldn’t see her.
‘Glorious Army of the Architect!’
came the booming words, so loud they made Leaf wince and Daisy’s tentacles shiver. ‘All our enemies lie before us! Though Saturday has joined forces with the Piper, both contend with Sunday. We shall spare none of them, but fly forward to our final victory!’
The great voice stopped for a moment then. Soldiers looked at one another, waiting for more, till some smart Sergeant-Major twigged what was required. A ragged cheer broke out, slowly building as more and more Denizens joined in, till it became a roar as loud as a crashing wave.
‘There is only one order!’ shouted Dame Primus. ‘We charge for the Elysium, where Lord Sunday makes his stand! For the Architect and Lord Arthur!’
‘For the Architect and Lord Arthur!’ bellowed the soldiers. Leaf found herself shouting it too, and even Daisy roared out something that had the emotion of the battle cry, if not the words.
‘Forward!’
Wings beat down, so many in unison that they caused a great rush of air that made the fires flare beneath them. Tens of thousands of Denizens flew forward, shouting the battle cry, clashing their weapons, sounding their trumpets and cymbals and horns.
The Borderers carrying the transport sling picked up the faster beat, their wings spreading wider, drawing more air. The Wingmaster called the time, and slowly they picked up speed, though not so fast as the Legionaries above them, who began to forge ahead, but only until the Not-Horses settled into their full wing stride, and all the different squadrons of the Horde flew out of the line and joined up into a massive wedge formation a half a mile ahead.
Leaf was watching them in admiration when Suzy suddenly plummeted down next to her, braking so hard in the last minute that she lost a bunch of tip feathers from her wings.
‘Wotcher,’ said Suzy.
‘Hi,’ said Leaf. She was still intent on the marvellous cavalcade of flying Not-Horses.
‘It’s all show, you know,’ said Suzy. ‘Sunday could knock us all off if ’e’s got a mind to.’
‘What?’ asked Leaf.
‘Only reason he hasn’t is he’s busy with the Piper,’ said Suzy. ‘But as soon as ’e’s done with him . . .’