Grim Tuesday (20 page)

Rushing to escape the harpoon’s awful influence, Arthur squirmed away through the sea and sand. He didn’t care whether he’d gotten the Sunsprite, whether it was following to kiss him and burn him to death. All he wanted to do was get away from the Captain’s terrible weapon—

Something slapped into his right hand, and Arthur screamed again. The harpoon had come back. He couldn’t get away from it!

That meant the harpoon thought it would soon be used again.

E
ven though the harpoon was back in Arthur’s hand, the pain suddenly ebbed away, disappearing as quickly as it had come, leaving only a lingering discomfort in his teeth and a horrific memory.

Arthur found he was lying facedown in wet sand, and hastily rolled over. There was no sign of the Sunsprite or any other geysers of steam. Wearily, he sat up, then staggered to his feet and looked around properly. Suzy was lying still on the sand about six feet away, just above the tide line.

“Suzy!” Arthur called, panic in his voice. What if the side effects of using the harpoon had killed her?

Suzy lifted her head, probed her face with her fingers as if to make sure it was still there, then shakily stood up.

“Are you all right?” Arthur asked urgently, taking a step towards her. She backed away and held up her hands.

“Keep your distance with that sticker, Arthur. I’ll just follow on behind.”

“Arthur! Miss Blue! Quickly, we need to cast off!”

Tom’s shout galvanized both children into action. Arthur flung himself into the waves, turning sideways to get through them more easily, though he had to kick as well, as a bigger wave lifted him off his feet. Suzy, despite her words, plunged in and soon caught up to him.

As they approached the portside hatch and the rope ladder hanging from it, the water all along the golden bulk of the sunship’s hull began to fizz and bubble. Tom leaned out of the hatchway and shouted again.

“Faster! The Sunsprites have done something to the Immaterial Glass, our anchor’s dragged, and our starboard sail is filling!”

Arthur redoubled his efforts, but stumbled just before he got to the ladder. He fell completely underwater. Hot water. He pushed off the sand and felt a hand under his arm, and when he burst back out, Suzy was right behind him, helping him up.

She practically threw him onto the ladder. Arthur dropped the harpoon as he grabbed the bottom rung, but it didn’t fall. It just disappeared.

“Don’t come back to me,” muttered Arthur under his breath as he clambered up. At the top, he turned and reached back to help Suzy. The water was really boiling now all along the sunship, and Arthur could see a red glow spreading through the clear blue-green sea.

Suzy leaped aboard with alacrity, hardly needing Arthur’s help.

“Shut the hatch and dog it!” roared Tom from somewhere inside.

Arthur pulled and Suzy pushed on the hatch. It was very heavy, made of the same golden metal as the hull, and at least a foot thick. It moved very slowly along a top and bottom rail. As it closed, Arthur saw dozens of gouts of steam explode up through the waves outside. The columns of steam were motionless for a second, then all turned towards the still open hatch.

“Sunsprites!” shouted Arthur. “Lots of them!”

He gave up pulling the hatch and ran around to help Suzy push.

“Heave!” he yelled. “One, two, three—heave!”

A ropy arm of fire thrust itself inside just as the hatch rolled shut. Cut off, it rolled and twisted around Arthur’s and Suzy’s feet, till Suzy stamped on it. Its fire went out and it collapsed into black dust.

Arthur picked up the long metal bar and slid it in place, locking the hatch. He’d barely gotten it in place when there was a sudden beating on the hull, a sound like many hammers striking metal.

“I hope they can’t get in,” said Suzy. “I lost my cutlass in the sea.”

“So did I,” gasped Arthur, feeling his side. He couldn’t remember when he’d last had it. “Let’s get some more. I’m not using that harpoon again.”

“All hands to the bridge!” Tom bellowed.

Arthur and Suzy hurried along the passage and then up to the bridge. Tom was steering the wheel with one hand and reaching out to pull levers with the other. Through one blue porthole, Arthur and Suzy saw the island, now hidden in steam and smoke. The other porthole showed only bright light and indistinct figures that had to be Sunsprites. The metal hammering noise was just as loud here, making it hard to hear and even harder to concentrate.

“They’re trying to tow us somewhere,” said Tom. “But we’ve got the solar wind with us. Grab those two levers and pull back as hard as you can.”

Arthur and Suzy hurried over to the levers, jumping across the dormant Will. It was lying on the floor behind Tom, still asleep or unconscious.

The levers were much harder to pull down than Arthur expected. In the end, he and Suzy had to hang on to each one to drag them down into position.

“Sunsprites are trying to spoil our rigging, but the
Helios
is a tough ship,” shouted Tom. “Tuesday might be a penny-pinching slaver, but he can make a good vessel.”

“Grim Tuesday made the
Helios
?” shouted Arthur.

“Aye, he did,” roared Tom, even his mighty voice almost lost in the constant hammering ring. “Copied, of course, from some inventor out in the Secondary Realms. Not from Earth, for a change. Probably @@@@@@@@ or ÆΩ∂∞
f
‡.”

“Where?” asked Arthur. “Who?”

He couldn’t even begin to understand the noises Tom had just made, which he presumed were names of other worlds. Or maybe just countries. Or maybe they were the inventors’ names.

Tom didn’t answer. He was intent on a gauge that was slowly filling with a red dye. As it got to two-thirds full, he spun the wheel and held it fast, straining against some unseen pressure. The gauge almost immediately became totally suffused with the red dye and stayed full.

“A good wind and both sails taut,” shouted Tom. “They’re trying to hold us back, but they’ll fall away. Aye, there they go!”

Arthur couldn’t see anything in the portholes, or at least he couldn’t be sure what he was seeing. But the hammering lessened, and the indistinct shapes in the brightness were no longer all over the place but bunched up in the bottom corners of the portholes. From there, they slowly disappeared.

After five minutes, there was no more hammering. Tom relaxed a little at the wheel, though he didn’t lash it or let go.

“We’ll be returned to our mooring afore too long with this wind,” he said cheerfully. “Then back into the House in a trice.”

“And we’ll get back only a minute or so after we left?” asked Arthur. He was thinking about the telegram in his pocket and what Grim Tuesday would do. And the even bigger question: What was he going to do with a sleeping Will?

“As long as it takes to speak both spells, the embarkation and disembarkation,” replied Tom. He frowned and added, “I trust you’ll do something with that Will. I’ve no more mind to follow Grim Tuesday than I ever did, but if he commands me in person with the power of the Second Key, I must obey without question or slipperiness. I don’t want my friend to shorten your future.”

Arthur and Suzy shook their heads in an instant mutual reaction.

“Why is nothing ever easy?” asked Arthur. “I just want the Will to wake up and tell Tuesday to hand over the Key to me. Then I can sort everything out, get back home, and forget about this blasted House and everything in it!”

“It could be worse,” said Suzy philosophically. “We could be soaking wet.”

Arthur let a slight chuckle escape as he walked around the sun bear.

“And I could be having an asthma attack. And all our teeth might fall out because of…”

He glanced at Tom and decided not to say anything about the harpoon. Maybe it had feelings and would be offended. Or Tom might be.

Arthur stopped circling the sun bear and took a series of breaths, each one a little deeper than the last. Now he was outside the House, he couldn’t quite fill his lungs, the familiar catch still lurking there, but it could hardly be called asthma. It was just a minor annoyance. Nothing compared to his short, twisted leg.

Forget about the leg,
he told himself.
Get on with it.

“Okay, I have to wake the Will up. How do you wake up a sleeping bear? Or a hibernating one? Does anyone know?”

Suzy shook her head. Tom adjusted the wheel, then almost absently said, “I know sun bears don’t hibernate.”

“They don’t?”

Tom shook his head, and, out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw the Will’s eye flicker too. Just a rapid,
momentary lift of an eyelid so it could get a snapshot of the room and the situation.

“It’s not even asleep,” cried Arthur, crouching down next to the bear. He tapped it on the snout and said, “Wake up, Part Two of the Will.”

Nothing happened.

“Tell it who you are,” suggested Suzy. “I mean, the Master and everything.”

“I’m Arthur Penhaligon. Master of the Lower House. Rightful Heir to…uh…the Keys to the Kingdom, the Lower House, the Middle House, the Upper House…um…the Far Reaches—”

“The Great Maze, the Incomparable Gardens, and the Border Sea,” recited Suzy, helping Arthur out.

“Says who?”

For a second Arthur didn’t know who’d spoken, till he saw the corner of the sun bear’s mouth lift up. It had a high-pitched, squeaky drawl, and it could speak with barely a movement of its snout or lips.

“Says Paragraphs Three to Seven of the Will, who chose me in the first place,” said Arthur angrily. “I didn’t want the job, but I’ve got it, so you can get up and help me out.”

The Will opened one eye fully and slowly looked Arthur up and down. “How do I know you’re telling the
truth? You could be anyone. Where’s the First Key if you’re Master of the Lower House?”

“I made Dame Primus—that is, the first part of the Will—my Steward,” Arthur answered, trying to muster authority into his voice. “She’s got the Key. I need you to make Grim Tuesday hand over the Second Key to me, so you’d better stay awake and start thinking about doing it.”

“Not as easy as that,” said the Will. Its high-pitched voice was quite annoying. “I need to see it in writing that you’re the Rightful Heir. Proper official notice from Dame Primus. Part One chooses the heir, fair enough, but the least she can do is the proper notification. I can’t do a thing without it. Wouldn’t be prudent. Don’t bother me again unless you’ve got the notice.”

It shut its eyes. Arthur reached forward and tapped it smartly on the nose, then retreated even more smartly as one claw snapped out and raked the air where his hand had been an instant before.

“I said, don’t bother me,” squeaked the Will. “I’m meditating.”

“Even more irritating than the first bit,” remarked Suzy. “Though I s’pose it’s a benefit not having it in your throat.”

“We’ll have to get it—and ourselves—away from
Grim Tuesday, out of the pyramid, and up to the Lower House,” said Arthur. “Somehow or other. Did Dame Primus tell you what to do once we got the Will?”

“Nope,” said Suzy. “Maybe I should’ve asked, from experience, like. With her last plan coming unstuck and everything.”

“This one’s come unstuck too,” said Arthur. He scratched his head. “We’ve got an hour or so sailing back, haven’t we, Captain?”

“Half that, or maybe a third,” replied Tom. “The solar wind is with us now.”

“So we come back out a few minutes after we left,” said Arthur, as he paced lopsidedly around the bridge. “Surely it’ll take Grim Tuesday ten minutes to get up to your room, Captain?”

“Depends. There are weirdways inside the Treasure Tower. If he climbs the stairs at his usual pace, it’ll be ten minutes or more.”

“Weirdways? In the prison…I mean the Tower? Where?”

“Ah, a slip of the tongue there,” Tom said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve been expressly ordered not to mention the weirdways. Can’t tell anyone where they are either, though I suppose I might nod my head or give
a wink, if someone was to ask where they’re not or such-like roundabout questions.”

“Grim Tuesday wouldn’t put a weirdway right into the chamber with the bottles,” said Arthur slowly, watching Tom’s face. “But he might put one close…like the cell next door…”

Tom slowly winked.

“Even if someone did put a weirdway in a cell next door, they’d be sure to disguise it,” continued Arthur. “Like maybe behind something on the wall. Or behind a trapdoor in the floor. Or the ceiling. Or disguised as something else—”

Tom nodded slowly at the last sentence.

“How would you disguise the entry to a weirdway, Suzy?” asked Arthur. “How are they normally disguised?”

“Could be anything,” snorted Suzy. She glanced at Tom and said, “A cup of water is quite common. Or a teapot. Or a candlestick. Sometimes a book. Or a painting. A hook on the wall. I remember an old geezer had one you got in through a coin stuck to the floor. Then there’s flowers. A loose brick. Mirrors is popular. Water closet, though that’s disgustin’ and not proper. A chest or drawer. Maybe a box of some kind. Wardrobes. Cigarette case. A pianoforte or harpsichordicle. Clocks—”

She stopped. Tom had winked at “clocks.”

“So a clock in one of the neighboring cells is the entry to a weirdway. I wonder where it comes out? I guess it must still be inside the pyramid, since Grim Tuesday is so paranoid about keeping people out.”

“I wonder if he left the door open?” mused Suzy.

“You said he lifted the west side of the pyramid to get in,” said Arthur to Tom. “Can you talk about that?”

“The entire west face of the pyramid is hinged as a door,” said Grim Tuesday. “It’s no secret, for no one else is strong enough to lift it. Even I could not open that door. Not alone.”

“And all my power’s gone,” said Arthur.

“Maybe he left it open,” suggested Suzy. “He was in a hurry.”

Arthur shook his head. “Leave open the door to all his treasures? I doubt it.”

“Just being optimistic,” said Suzy. “You should try it. It doesn’t hurt. Least, it doesn’t hurt me. Maybe it would give you a pain in the midsection.”