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Authors: Garth Nix

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BOOK: Lord Sunday
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C
HAPTER TWENTY-ONE

T
he slight internal voice of Part Seven of the Will was suddenly cut off as the wormsnake’s inner coil rolled closer, a ten-foot-high wall of stone-like snakeskin. Arthur jumped up and landed on top of the creature, jarring his knees. He balanced there for a moment, watching another coil as it rose towards him, and directed an anxious thought at Part Seven of the Will.

What am I supposed to do? How do I get away from this thing?

There was no answer.

Arthur jumped again as a length of the snake came crashing down. This time he landed badly and slid along the creature’s back, almost falling into a thirty-foot-deep crevasse between three piled-up coils before he regained his balance.

That gave him a clue. Arthur stood up carefully, keeping his knees bent and his feet apart for better balance. He looked along the wormsnake’s undulating body and across the coils. Then he began to run. He ran around the coil he was on, then jumped across to the next one that was slightly higher up and ran around that. Then he jumped not quite as far to another, till only a few minutes later he was at the top of the hill, and he slid down the narrowing end of the wormsnake and on to the welcoming grass of the next higher terrace.

The huge creature continued to coil and writhe down the slope, but not up it, and Arthur was none the wiser about whether he’d just jumped off its tail or its head. He was grateful that in this respect at least it was more worm and less snake.

Once again, this terrace was much the same as the last, though the flowering shrubs were a strange rusty colour and had almost perfectly round leaves
that suggested these plants were not from Earth. Arthur kept away from them, just in case they were not exactly plants.

He was also wary of steps, but he couldn’t see any on the slope ahead. It was just a grassy bank some hundred or so feet tall, steep enough that he would probably need to use his hands to help him climb it.

Arthur was halfway there, sprinting across the lawn, when the ground shook beneath him and then dropped away. The boy fell and rolled, bouncing around on the grass like a ping-pong ball on a table, as the hill continued to shake. When it finally stopped, Arthur was lying flat on his back and all the round flowers had fallen from the shrubs.

“What was that?” he said aloud as he got up and looked around. Everything looked the same at first, till he noticed there was a tall plume of smoke or dust in the far distance and that the sun had dropped significantly towards what he’d arbitrarily decided was west, making his shadow longer.

The Drasils have withered,
said Part Seven of the Will.
The Gardens have dropped and Saturday’s tower has broken through.

Now you talk to me!
thought Arthur.
Where are you? Do you know if Elephant is all right?

I am in the Elysium, on the hill above you,
came the reply.
However, I am locked in a cage and my ability to speak with you is constrained and erratic, unless you are very near. Come to me…no, wait!

The Will’s voice cut off again. Arthur stared at what he’d thought was a plume of smoke and narrowed his eyes against the glare of the lower sun. With the smoke or dust or whatever it was dissipating, he could see a little more clearly. What he’d thought was an insubstantial plume was clearly a solid object, several hundred feet high, overtopping the hedges and dominating the landscape of the Incomparable Gardens. It looked like it was at least the top fifty or so floors of Saturday’s tower, poking through the underside of the Incomparable Gardens like a needle thrust through a cloth.

That’ll give Sunday a headache,
thought Arthur with satisfaction.
Thousands more of Saturday’s sorcerers swarming into the Gardens.

He turned to start up the slope to the top of the hill, but had only taken one step when he heard the distant buzz of a dragonfly. Instantly he changed
direction and ran to the nearest tree. He crouched down under its lower branches and scanned the sky.

The dragonfly was flying straight towards him with lots of Denizens on its back. As it got closer, Arthur lifted the Fifth Key and began to build another blinding blast of intense heat. But just as he was about to unleash it, he felt the force of the Seventh Key emanating from the dragonfly. It was like a giant hand brushing the surface of the terrace, the fingers feeling for something hidden…unseen fingers searching for him.

Instantly Arthur stopped trying to focus on a heat blast and instead called on the powers of both Keys he held to hide him from Lord Sunday.

He felt no answer from the Fifth Key, but arthritic pain flashed through the knuckles of his right hand and, without his conscious direction, the Sixth Key suddenly began to sketch something in the air around Arthur, making his hand dart around like a swallow chasing flying insects. It left behind a spiderweb-thin trail of pale green ink that hung in the air and did not dissipate.

Within a few seconds, the Sixth Key had drawn a russet-coloured plant with broad sheltering
leaves around the crouched-down Arthur, exactly like all the other ones along the border of the lawn. From inside, it looked to Arthur just like a three-dimensional open sketch that wouldn’t fool anyone for a second, but he hoped that from the outside he was now effectively camouflaged as a plant and that it would resist at least the long-distance search of Lord Sunday.

The dragonfly flew overhead and hovered above the crest of the hill. Arthur watched, hardly daring to breathe as the ladder rolled down, and Sunday and his Noon and Dawn descended and disappeared from sight.

Stay hidden!
said the Will, suddenly back in his head.
Stay

C
HAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A
thick cloud of Nothing-powder smoke blew across Leaf, making her cough and her eyes smart. A Newnith burst out of the smoke, her two-handed sword raised above her head. Leaf ducked aside and skewered her with the Lieutenant Keeper’s sword, but the blade skittered across the Newnith’s armour as she lumbered past and was gone into the smoke, with more of the enemy charging in behind her.

Leaf backed up against the beastwort, who was emitting high-pitched sonic squeaks of either excitement or anger as her tentacles lashed about,
knocking the Newniths away from her mistress. But there were so many of the enemy, and the Piper’s children now so spread out, that Leaf had to fight desperately herself, her wrist, elbow and shoulder burning with pain as the sword performed incredible manoeuvres that her joints and muscles simply couldn’t cope with.

Not running away was possibly my dumbest move yet
, thought Leaf as she was saved at the last instant by a combination of the sword and one of Daisy’s tentacles, the former deflecting a thrown spear while the latter swept a Newnith off his feet into the remnants of a desk.

Maybe only slightly dumber than going to see Arthur in the hospital in the first place. If I’d stayed away, I might still be at home, and so might Aunt Mango, and I’d know the rest of my family was OK—

Leaf dodged another wild sword swing, fell to the floor, jabbed the attacking Newnith in the leg and sprang up again – right into the path of a flung spear.

It struck her in the right shoulder and exploded in a shower of white-hot sparks. Leaf was thrown to the ground, her breath and most of her senses
knocked out of her. She didn’t even know what had happened, except she couldn’t get up and her left arm either wasn’t working properly – or maybe it wasn’t there at all.

Somehow she managed to raise and turn her head just enough to see that her arm was indeed still there, though she couldn’t feel it. The Lieutenant Keeper’s coat had turned the spear, but there were scorch marks all down the left side. Leaf tried to sit up a bit more, and as she did she felt something grating inside her shoulder, accompanied by the awful, nausea-inducing sensation of having broken bones.

Leaf lay back, gasping. A Newnith jumped over her and she flinched, the pain from that movement making her black out for a second, maybe more. She came swimming back to consciousness and looked at her arm again. She could feel her fingers now, but they wouldn’t obey her. There was also something else wrong, something that it took her a long time to process.

I had something in my hand,
thought Leaf woozily.
I had a hold of something important…

There was only a broken piece of leather near
Leaf’s hand. She no longer had Daisy’s leash. She no longer controlled the beastwort.

That thought had barely registered when one of Daisy’s tentacles suddenly appeared in Leaf’s vision, heading straight for her. The tentacle hit the floor near her with a crack, slid back, curled around her and lifted her into the air.

Leaf screamed as her shoulder moved. Then, once again, she blacked out.

When Leaf came to, the tentacle was still wrapped round her, but there was also something else supporting her back so she couldn’t move, and this made the pain in her shoulder almost bearable.

It was also quiet around her. The shouting and tumult of battle, the crash of Nothing-powder weapons and the sizzle of lightning-charged spears and swords had gone.

I’ve gone completely deaf,
thought Leaf.
And Daisy’s going to kill me as well.

For some reason this made her laugh, a strange hysterical laugh that she cut off as soon as she realised she could hear it, though it was muffled and sounded like it came from far away.

So I’m not deaf. Leaf turned her head a little and saw that she was lying on Daisy’s back, securely held down by a tentacle just near the beastwort’s strange flower head. A petal twisted towards her, as if checking on her condition.

And I guess Daisy isn’t going to kill me.

Leaf turned her head to the other side. In a dopey way she was surprised to see Suzy and Dr Scamandros, standing near a blazing fire made of wrecked desks, looking back at her. Some thirty or so Piper’s children were sitting around the fire toasting marshmallows, a process that required constant movement as the smoke kept changing direction to blow horizontally towards different sides of the tower.

Beyond the fire, there were lots of Denizen soldiers. As Leaf watched them march out of numerous elevators, more sound slowly leaked back into her ears. She could hear their drums and fifes, bagpipes and rababs, and the bellowing orders of the NCOs.

Over the top of this background noise, and closer, there was something else. Leaf looked at Suzy and saw her mouth move. A few seconds later, she
matched these movements to the sounds she was hearing.

“Leaf! Tell your pet to let Dr Scamandros come and fix you up! You’re hurt.”

Tell me something I don’t know,
thought Leaf.

“Leaf!”

Suzy stopped shouting and said something to Dr Scamandros, who shrugged. Leaf stared at them for some time, before it finally percolated through that she had to do something herself.

“Uh, Daisy,” she began. Then she stopped, remembering that she no longer held the lead. Daisy wasn’t under her control any more.

Two more petals tilted down towards her, paying attention.

“Um, Daisy, if you wouldn’t mind,” croaked Leaf, “could you put me down and let Dr Scamandros come and help me? I’m hurt.”

The petals shivered and undulated, but Leaf didn’t know what that meant.

“Please,” she said wearily, and shut her eyes.

She opened them again a moment later and bit back a scream as Daisy lifted her up and gently deposited her thirty feet away, all three of her
tentacles hovering nearby in a protective manner. Dr Scamandros rushed over and knelt by her side.

“Dear me, dear me,” he said. The tattoos on his face were of a grovelling rabbit that got picked up, put in a pot and had the lid slammed down on it. The sorcerer was rummaging in his pockets anxiously as he spoke. “Lord Arthur will be extremely vexed


“I’m not…going to die…am I?” asked Leaf.

Dr Scamandros did not answer. He was busy writing something on Leaf’s forehead with a long white feather quill. It tickled and Leaf wondered why she was unable to laugh. It was also deadening the pain, which was welcome, though at the same time, she was beginning to feel very sleepy.

“We held them off?” asked Leaf. “The Army arrived?”

“Yes, yes, all is well,” soothed Scamandros. He had a scalpel out and was cutting Leaf’s coat. She noticed idly that it was not the blue coat of the Lieutenant Keeper, but her radiation suit again, strangely bleached and tattered. That made her look at her right hand, and though her fingers were curled as if they still gripped a hilt, the Lieutenant Keeper’s sword was not in her grasp.

“My sword,” she whispered. The world was going blurry and sound was starting to become distant again, save for a single deep bass drum that was unaccountably becoming louder, even though its beat was very slow, and getting slower by the second.

Dr Scamandros didn’t answer. He was busy with a large red tomato-soup can and a small silver funnel, which he had balanced without visible support on Leaf’s chest.

“Giac!” he called urgently. He didn’t turn around or look aside as he punctured the can in two places and began to pour the bright red liquid into the silver funnel. “Look in my left pocket! I need a magisterial watch!”

Suzy tried not to watch Scamandros and Giac as they worked on the mortally wounded Leaf. She kept one eye on the beastwort though, for there was no knowing what it would do if Leaf did die.

“I know I said I wanted to be a General,” said Fred. “But I never wanted – it came to my hand. I didn’t even know what it was


Suzy looked up at him. Fred had grown a foot since he’d picked up the Lieutenant Keeper’s sword
a scant few seconds after Leaf had fallen and been taken away by the beastwort to a far corner of the floor. Daisy’s retreat had almost lost them the battle, but Fred’s assumption of power and his sword-trained muscles had helped. Even so, Suzy’s Raiders would have been overwhelmed if the advance elements of the Army had not arrived far sooner than expected.

Led by Thursday’s Dawn, Noon and Dusk, they had made short work of the Newniths, who had quickly retreated. Upward, Suzy noted.

More than half of her force were dead. Thirty-nine Piper’s children had been slain, and though Suzy talked about their very long, eventful lives having to come to an end sometime, even she found it hard to remain cheerful.

“Blue looks orright on you,” she said now. “Got a bit of gold too. Appropriate.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” said Fred, his forehead creased in a deep frown. “I can sense the Door, and the sword…the sword wants to go back. Doc Scamandros says whatever Dame Primus did is wearing off. He said the sword is kind of a Denizen itself. The Architect made it.”

“I knew that,” said Suzy halfheartedly.

Dr Scamandros stood up, followed a moment later by Giac. Both took off their hats.

“No,” whispered Suzy.

BOOK: Lord Sunday
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