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Authors: Garth Nix

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BOOK: Superior Saturday
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‘Stay! Just because you’ve got taller than’s sensible and your teeth all shined up doesn’t mean you can do without me! Who’s saved your bacon a mort of times?’

‘I perhaps should advise you, Lord Arthur, that I felt quite a level of resistance when we travelled here,’ said Scamandros. ‘Indeed, I was almost hurled back. It might be more prudent to take the elevator to Port Wednesday and send for the Raised Rats.’

‘There isn’t time,’ said Arthur. ‘But I think I will need you, so if you can bear it—’

‘I will attend you,’ said Scamandros. ‘I will hold on more tightly this time, though you now lack coattails. If I may take your arm?’

‘What about me?’ Suzy demanded.

‘Yes, you can come too,’ Arthur told her. ‘At least to talk to the Rats.’

Arthur offered one arm to Dr Scamandros and the other to Suzy, though this made it difficult to hold up the Fifth Key. He was about to gaze into it when he hesitated and looked across at Dame Primus. She had gone back to the map table and was studying it, giving no sign that she was about to split in two and do as he asked.

Arthur had also remembered something else.

‘Dame Primus!’ he called out. ‘Before you do split into two, I would like The
Compleat Atlas of the House
back again. I expect it will also be very useful.’

Dame Primus kept looking at the table and did not turn her head to speak.

‘The Atlas has a mind of its own,’ she said. ‘I believe it was last seen in the Middle House, probably getting a new binding put on without visible assistance. I expect it will return here in due course, or it will find you wherever you are. I suggest that you check any bookshelves you happen to be near.’

‘Oh,’ said Arthur, and then it struck him.

She’s lying to me,
he thought.
Or avoiding the truth. I wonder why she doesn’t want me to have the Atlas? It could be very useful. But she can’t look me in the eye and lie –

Marshal Dawn erupted from her desk and rushed across the room, brandishing a message slip and calling, ‘Dame Primus! There is a small geyser of Nothing reported near Letterer’s Lark!’

Dame Primus took the slip.

‘You see, Arthur! Well, if you will not go, then I must do as you ask. Marshal Dawn, prepare an escort and the private elevator!’

Dawn saluted and rushed away. There was a hush in the room as everyone watched Dame Primus, a hush that immediately dissipated as she looked about her, a deep frown on her face. Frenetic activity resumed everywhere, apart from a quiet space around Dame Primus and another around Arthur, Suzy and Scamandros.

‘Reckon this’ll be worth seeing,’ muttered Suzy. ‘Think she’ll split in half and wriggle like a worm?’

Arthur shook his head. That would be too undignified for Dame Primus.

As they watched, she took a step forward, and as she did so, she blurred and diminished, as if she’d walked into a hole in the ground. Then a smaller version of herself walked ahead, leaving a second smaller version behind, so that there were two seven-foot-tall Dame Primuses standing in a line, instead of one eight-foot-plus version. They looked identical and were dressed exactly the same, but one had the clock-sword of the First Key and the trident of the Third Key, and the other had the gauntlets of the Second Key and the baton of the Fourth.

The two embodiments of the Will turned to each other and curtsied.

‘Dame Quarto,’ said the one who had the sword and the gauntlets.

‘Dame Septum,’ said the one who had the trident and the baton.

‘Hmmph,’ whispered Scamandros. ‘Self—aggrandisement. They’ve added one and three, and two and five. Trying to make the sum of the whole greater, I suppose.’

Quarto and Septum turned and curtsied to Arthur.

‘Lord Arthur,’ they chorused.

‘Hello,’ said Arthur. ‘Thank you for splitting. I guess we’d all better get on with it.’

‘Indeed,’ said Dame Quarto.

‘We had,’ added Dame Septum. She raised her hand and dramatically announced, ‘I shall attend to the Middle House!’

‘And I to the mountains!’ declared Dame Quarto, and both strode from the room.

‘And I to ... sorting out Superior Saturday,’ said Arthur. Somehow it didn’t sound the same. He raised the mirror and concentrated on looking through it and out of the reflection in the silver jug in the stern cabin of the
Rattus Navis IV.
He would soon find himself wher ever the ship might be upon the strange waters of the Border Sea.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Seven

 

 

 

 

 

It was much harder going through the doorway with two people hanging on, and for a fearful moment Arthur thought all three of them would be thrown back, and not to the safety of the Citadel, but somewhere else not of his choosing. The ground swayed unsteadily beneath his feet, the light dazzled his eyes, and Suzy and Scamandros felt like enormous lead weights dragging his arms back and down. But he kept pushing forward, his total concentration on reaching his goal. He could half-see the table and chairs in the big cabin on the
Rattus Navis IV
. Even though it looked just a step away, it was almost impossible to reach.

Then, with a Herculean effort that left Arthur sweating and gasping, they fell out onto the tilted-over floor of the ship and slid across the floorboards into the starboard hull. Then, as the ship rolled back the other way and pitched forward, they slid diagonally across to the port side, smacked into the table, and sent the silver jug clanging onto the deck.

As they got up and grabbed hold of whatever they could to stay upright, the door burst open and a Newnith soldier gaped in the doorway.

‘Boarders!’ he shouted as he drew a sparking dagger from the sheath at his belt. ‘The enemy!’

Scamandros reached into his sleeve and came out with a tiny cocktail fork with a pickled onion on it, which he didn’t expect and hurriedly replaced.

Suzy drew her savage-sword at the same time, but the Newnith was quicker and had his sea legs. He rushed at Arthur, who instinctively raised his arm to protect himself, even though an arm would be no real protection from a long dagger that was spewing out white-hot sparks.

But it was his right arm, and in his right hand Arthur held the Fifth Key. Before the Newnith could fully complete his downward cut at the boy, there was a brilliant flash of light, a sudden, strange chemical stench, a stifled scream, and then just a pair of smoking boots on the deck where the Newnith had been.

Arthur felt a surge of annoyance.

How dare these pathetic creatures attack me?
he thought.
How dare they! I shall walk among them and wreak havoc ...

Arthur shook his head and took a breath, forcing this arrogant temper tantrum back to wherever it had come from. He was frightened by it, frightened that he could get so angry, and that his immediate response was to attack.

As the rage lessened, he became aware that his arm hurt quite a lot.

‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed. The point of the Newnith’s dagger had made contact with him after all. He rolled his arm over to get a better look, and saw that it had done more than just scratch the skin. There was a six—inch-long incision in his forearm, and it looked cut to the bone. Yet even as he looked, the cut closed up, leaving only a very faint white scar. Arthur wiped off what little blood there was with his left hand, and tried not to notice that it was neither red like a normal human’s nor blue like a Denizen’s. It was golden, like a deep, rich honey, and that was almost more painful to him than the cut itself. Whatever he was becoming was very strange indeed.

‘There’s nothing left of ’im,’ said Suzy with satisfaction, turning over the vapourised Newnith’s smoking boots with the point of her sword.

‘I didn’t mean to do it,’ said Arthur sadly. ‘It was the Key.’

‘We’d best get ready.’ Suzy tugged on the table, to drag it to the door, but it was bolted to the deck and she only succeeded in staggering into Scamandros when she lost her grip. Still unsteady, both of them went backwards into one of the well-upholstered chairs. Suzy was up again in a moment, while Scamandros struggled like a beetle thrown upon its back.

‘Won’t just be one Newnith on board,’ Suzy warned. ‘They’ll be charging in any moment.’

‘They might not have heard,’ said Arthur. It
was
noisy, the constant rhythmic thud of the ship’s steam engine mixed with the groan and creak of the rigging above, as well as the regular crash and jolt as the ship plunged through what had to be fairly sizable waves.

‘They heard orright,’ said Suzy. She spat on her hands and gripped her sword more tightly. ‘I expect your Key can burn up a passel of ’em, though.’

‘I don’t want to burn them up,’ Arthur protested. ‘I just want to talk to the Raised Rats!’

‘We are very glad to hear that,’ said a voice from under the table.

Suzy swore and ducked down to have a look.

‘A trapdoor,’ she exclaimed in admiration. ‘Sneaky!’

A four-foot-tall rat clad in white breeches and a blue coat with a single gold epaulette on his left shoulder clambered out from under the table and saluted Arthur, his long mouth open in a smile that revealed two shiny gold-capped front teeth. He had a cutlass at his side, but it was sheathed. A Napoleonic hat perched at a jaunty angle on his head.

‘Lord Arthur, I presume? I am Lieutenant Goldbite, recently appointed to command this vessel following Captain Longtayle’s promotion and transfer. I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you before, but I am acquainted with your past dealings with us. Perhaps you and your companions would like to sit?’

He gestured at the armchairs.

‘Do we have a truce?’ asked Arthur, still standing. ‘And do you speak for all aboard?’

‘I am the captain,’ said Goldbite. ‘I say truce for all of us, Newniths and Raised Rats.’

‘The Piper’s not ’ere, is he?’ asked Suzy. She hadn’t sat down either, though Scamandros had settled back down only moments after finally managing to get up.

‘The Piper is not aboard this ship,’ said Goldbite. ‘And though we owe him a considerable debt and so will carry his troops and so forth, the Raised Rats have chosen to be noncombatants in the Piper’s wars, and should not be considered in the same light as the Newniths. Speaking of them, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down, I shall just pop out and stand down both my own folk and the Newniths.’

‘I’m sorry about the one ... the one I killed,’ said Arthur. He was very aware that the Newniths, though they felt obliged to serve the Piper, actually just wanted to be farmers. Arthur felt they were much more like humans than Denizens. ‘He attacked me, and the Key ...’

Goldbite nodded. ‘I will tell them. He was not the first, nor will he be the last. But I trust there will be no more fighting between us on the
Rattus Navis IV.
Please do help yourself to biscuits from that tin there, and there is more cranberry juice in the keg.’

‘Might as well,’ said Arthur as the Raised Rat left via the door. He picked up the silver jug and refilled it from the keg, while Suzy got out the biscuits, tap ping them on the table to make the weevils fall out. She offered them around, but Arthur and Scamandros passed, the latter taking a slightly crushed ham and watercress sandwich on a red chequered china plate out of one of his inner pockets.

‘I’m curious to know why there are Newniths on board,’ said Arthur quietly. ‘I hope the Piper isn’t going to attack us here in the Border Sea.’

‘Port Wednesday is well defended,’ said Dr Scamandros. ‘The Triangle would be more at risk, if none of the regular vessels are there to protect it. But there would be little to gain from taking that, since it has no elevators or anything very useful. But of course the Rats could be taking the Newniths elsewhere by way of the Border Sea, out into the Secondary Realms—’

‘Ssshhh,’ Arthur hushed. ‘Goldbite’s coming back.’

Goldbite knocked and then poked his long nose around the door.

‘All settled in?’ he asked before coming in. ‘Very good. I’m afraid my First Lieutenant can’t join us, as she has the watch, but my Acting Third Lieutenant will do so. I believe you have already met.’

The Raised Rat behind Goldbite stepped out and saluted. Though his whiskers had been trimmed and he wore a blue coat, Arthur recognised him i mmediately.

‘Watkingle! You’ve been promoted!’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Watkingle. ‘And it was for hitting you on the head, sir, and averting a disastrosphe or cataster, whichever you like. That was a good hit for me, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir.’

‘I don’t mind—it was needed at the time.’ Arthur got up and shook Watkingle’s paw. ‘Feverfew would have had me, otherwise.’

‘You’re looking ... uh ... well, sir,’ said Watkingle. ‘Taller.’

‘Yes,’ replied Arthur, not very happily. He sat back down. Watkingle lounged back against the hull, bracing his paws so that he was not thrown off balance by the pitch and roll of the ship.

‘I take it you have come to ask your third question?’ said Goldbite, after the ensuing silence started to feel uncomfortable.

‘Well, both a question and a request for aid,’ Arthur replied. ‘I hear that Superior Saturday has completely cut off the Upper House, and that there is no way to get there. But I bet you Rats know a way. In fact, I know you must, because a Raised Rat managed to get out with a piece of paper. I want to find out what that way is, and I want you to help me get there.’

‘And me!’ added Suzy.

‘Hmmm,’ said Goldbite. ‘I shall have to send a message to Commodore Monckton—’

Arthur shook his head.

‘There’s no time. I presume you know that the Nothing defences in the Far Reaches were sabotaged and the dam wall was destroyed. The Lower House has also been destroyed. I have to stop Saturday before she manages to destroy the entire House.’

Goldbite wrinkled his nose in agitation.

‘We had news of a disaster, but did not know it was so extreme,’ he said. ‘But to answer your question, I must reveal secrets. I’ve not been in command of this vessel long, nor am I very senior ...’

‘I have already ordered the Raised Rats to be left alone unless they act against my forces,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m happy to do anything I can for you, and to answer any number of questions, if you can tell me how to get into the Upper House.’ He paused and then corrected, ‘How to get into the Upper House without being noticed, that is.’

‘As you have guessed, Lord Arthur, there
is
a way,’ said Goldbite slowly. He looked at Watkingle, who shrugged. ‘All things considered, I believe I must assist you. But you must agree to a price to be set by Commodore Monckton and those Rats senior to me, in addition to the answer you already owe us.’

‘That’s a pig in a poke,’ said Suzy. ‘You Rats really take the biscuit.’

‘Why, thank you,’ said Watkingle. He leaned forward and took a biscuit.

‘That’s not what I meant!’ protested Suzy. ‘Why should Arthur agree to—’

‘It’s okay, Suzy,’ said Arthur. ‘I do agree.’

If I don’t agree, it soon won’t matter,
he figured. And a small voice inside him, a deep and nasty part of his mind, added,
Besides, I can go back on my word. They’re only Rats ...

‘I must also ask you to keep this secret, Lord Arthur,’ continued Goldbite. ‘All of you must keep it secret.’

Arthur nodded, as did Suzy, though he had a suspicion she’d crossed her fingers behind her back.

‘Always happy to keep a secret,’ said Scamandros. ‘Got hundreds of them already, locked up here.’

The sorcerer tapped his forehead, and a tattoo of a keyhole appeared there, a key went in and turned, and then both transformed into a spray of question marks that danced over his temples to his ears.

‘Very well,’ said Goldbite. ‘Lord Arthur, you know about our Simultaneous Bottles, how something put in one bottle of a matched pair will appear in the other bottle?’

‘Yes. For messages and so on. But Monckton told me they only work in the Border Sea!’

‘That is true for most of them. But we do have a small number of very special Simultaneous Bottles, or, to be accurate, Simultaneous Nebuchadnezzars that not only work outside the Border Sea—’

‘What’s a Nebuchadnezzar?’ asked Suzy.

‘Size of bottle,’ said Scamandros. Eight bottles of increasing size appeared on his left cheek and spread across to his right cheek. The smallest was about half an inch high, the largest began at his chin and went to the top of his ear. ‘Big one. There’s your ordinary bottle. Then comes a Magnum—that’s two bottles’ worth. Then a Jeroboam—that holds the same as four of the regular size. And so forth: Rehoboam, six bottles; Methuselah, eight; Salmanazar, twelve; Balthazar, sixteen; Nebuchadnezzar, twenty!’

He started to rummage inside his coat and added, ‘Got a Jeroboam of quite a nice little sparkling wine here somewhere, a gift from poor old Captain Catapillow—’

‘Yes, yes,’ broke in Goldbite. ‘The Simultaneous Nebuchadnezzars are very large bottles that we have twinned in various locations about the House, including one in the Upper House. Their size is important because they are large enough to allow the transfer of one of us. But not, I hasten to say, someone of your stature Lord Arthur.’

‘I thought it might be something like that,’ said Arthur. ‘That’s where you come in, Doctor Scamandros. I want you to turn me into a Raised Rat. Temporarily, that is.’

‘And me,’ said Suzy.

‘It is not an easy thing to do,’ Dr Scamandros warned. ‘It is true I once created illusions for you, to give you the appearance of rats. Actually reshaping you, even for a limited time—I don’t know. You could do it yourself with the Key, Arthur.’

Arthur nodded. ‘I probably could. But I would be worried about turning back again. But if you do it, it will wear off, won’t it?’

‘I should expect so,’ said Scamandros. ‘But I cannot be sure how any spell will affect you, Lord Arthur. It is possible the Key might perceive such a spell as an attack, and do the same thing to me that it did to that Newnith.’

‘I’m sure it wouldn’t if I was concentrating on wanting to turn into a Raised Rat,’ said Arthur. ‘Anyway, let’s give it a try.’

BOOK: Superior Saturday
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