Arthur grimaced. It still felt weird to hear all that. Cool of the Evening bowed her head slightly, but did not sign a message.

“And that is Suzy Turquoise Blue, Monday’s Tierce,”

said Arthur. “And Lieutenant Fred Initial Numbers Gold and Banneret Ugham of the Piper’s Newniths. We are in temporary alliance with Banneret Ugham.”

Fred made a squeaking sound and put his hand up.

“Arthur? Do you mean it? Me, Lieutenant Gold?”

“Yes,” said Arthur. “I’d make you a General, but I fig­ure you might find it easier to start off being an officer a bit lower down.”

“You can make me a General if you like, Arthur,” said Suzy. “I mean, Monday’s Tierce is all very well, but when it comes to rotten jobs being dished out, I reckon a General gets to have less of them—”

“I’ll think about it,” said Arthur. “I’m not sure you’d be a very responsible General, Suzy. Anyway, the most important thing is that we’re all friends. At least I hope—”

Cool of the Morning looked up and made a rapid sign.

“What? More Loungers?” asked Arthur. He raised his rapier, eyes scanning the sky.

“Nope,” said Fred. “More Winged Servants of the Night. Uh, I hope they know we’re on their side.”

Arthur hastily lowered his rapier. Ugham, who had been retrieving his spear, grounded that weapon. Suzy tucked her knife back into her belt. The Paper Pushers were still not in evidence, and for the first time Arthur wondered where they could have gone.

That thought went away as twenty or more Winged Servants of the Night descended, only becoming visible as they entered the band of sunlight, which the raft had almost left. It had been moving swiftly up the canal the whole time, and Arthur had grown used to both the tilted “deck” beneath his feet and the faint sunshine. But soon they would be in darkness once more, though the raft would continue its upward passage for many more hours.

“Tell them we’re friends, please,” said Arthur to Cool of the Evening. She nodded and raised her arms to send a more visible, semaphore-style message with her arms.

“What did she say?” whispered Suzy to Fred.

He shook his head and whispered back, “Haven’t a clue. I know they have big signs and little signs. Big signs are with arms only, and I never learned them.”

Most of the Winged Servants circled above the raft, moving with it, but three came down to land. Cool of the Evening hopped to meet them, and there was a very fast conversation in sign language that went on for several minutes.

“Too quick for me,” said Fred. “I can only get a few words. She’s telling them who you are, Arthur.”

“That could be trouble.” Arthur kept looking up at the Servants overhead, watching in case they suddenly dove. “If they’re fighting because they’re loyal to Friday, then they’ll have to attack. Keep ready. Where are those Paper Pushers? Pirkin was right next to me ....”

“I’m here,” said a muffled voice several yards away. It sounded like it was coming from the region of Arthur’s feet.

Arthur looked down. He couldn’t see anything but the usual bundles of papyrus records for a moment, then he caught sight of Pirkin peering out through a narrow gap.

“How ... how did you get in there?” asked Arthur. The gap between the bundles was only as wide as his hand.

“You can push the bundles apart,” said Pirkin. “If you know how. Then there are lots of gaps and airspaces through the structure. ‘Course, only members of the Association are allowed to manipulate the structure of—”

“Right!” said Arthur. He was relieved to find that Pirkin hadn’t somehow been killed or fallen off the raft.

“And I’m staying here!” said Pirkin. “Till we need to change currents anyway. Which should be in about—”

“Here they come,” said Fred.

Arthur swiftly looked back up, but the Servants above were still circling. The three who had been with Cool of the Evening were advancing, their hands held wide and open, to show they held no weapons—at least none more dangerous than the claws on their gloves. Cool of the Evening herself sat down where she was.

“Hello,” said Arthur as the Servants stopped a few paces away and made short bows. “Um, Fred here can do some of your signs ....”

All three of the newly arrived Servants immediately signed to Fred.

“Uh, this is ... let’s see ... Turned Wingfeather Flys Surprisingly Well, Ferocious Slayer of the Pre-Dawn, and One Who Survived the Darkness. Ah, One Who Survived the Darkness is the highest-ranking in House precedence; she reports directly to Friday’s Dusk.”

One Who Survived the Darkness was the middle Servant and was fractionally taller than the other two. The claws of her gloves were also a pallid white, Arthur noticed, like carved moonstones, unlike the others, who had claws of some dark, metallic substance.

“She says thanks for helping Cool of the Evening,” said Fred.

“No problem,” said Arthur. “Any enemy of Superior Saturday’s is a friend of ours.”

“The Winged Servants of the Night carry out our duty,’” translated Fred. “‘To patrol the night of the Middle House and slaughter Nithlings and ... urn, I think ... unauthorized travelers, to rend them with our claws and burn them with the fire of our weapons.”

“Tell them we’re authorized, Arthur,” said Suzy.

One Who Survived the Darkness turned her masked face to Suzy and made a series of rapid signs.

“Uh-oh,” said Fred. “You are not authorized. Oh, it’s all right. She says, ‘Usually we would either kill you or take you to Dusk for judgment. But Dusk has gone, and Lady Friday too. Dawn, who claims to speak for them, is not our master. You are Lord Arthur, and master of much of the House, so a distinguished visitor. Better, you have fought for us. We will not harm you or your minions—’”

“Hang on,” muttered Suzy. “Who are you calling—”

“Suzy!” warned Arthur. “Let Fred finish.”

“‘We owe you a debt, and will help you if we can.”

Arthur directed a quelling glare at Suzy, who was about to open her mouth again, and then bowed to One Who Survived the Darkness. That gave him a moment to think.

“Thank you,” he said slowly. “I think you can help us ... help me ... if you are able to carry myself and my companions up to the Top Shelf. I need to find a sorcerer there, and quickly.”

One Who Survived the Darkness tilted her masked head to the side quizzically, then signed to Fred.

“She says they can fly us up there. But the High Guild are not to be trusted. Also, Friday’s Dawn and his Gilded

Youths are encamped outside Binding Junction and she doesn’t know what they plan or where their allegiance lies.”

“We’ll just have to chance it,” said Arthur. “It’s going to take too long to get there by raft.”

“Four of them can carry one of us,” translated Fred after a flurry of signs. “How many are to go?”

“The three of us,” said Arthur, glancing at Ugham. “I’m sorry, Ugham, but there’s a chance the Piper will be ahead of us—”

“My task is to escort Miss Suzy and Lieutenant Fred,” rumbled Ugham. “To do so, I must stand at their side.”

“But if we meet the Piper and he orders you to attack us—” said Arthur.

“What can even a warrior such as I do against the mighty Arthur and his sword?” asked Ugham. “I think you have little to fear, Lord Arthur.”

“Let him come,” said Suzy. “He’s just a turnip farmer underneath.”

“It does not become you to make jest of my ambition, Miss Suzy,” said Ugham.

Arthur looked at Fred questioningly.

“I reckon he’s more help than hindrance,” said Fred. “And now that Suzy and I don’t have to obey, the odds are better.”

“You’d still answer to the Piper’s pipe,” said Arthur. He bit his lower lip, unconsciously flicking it under his front teeth several times. “Oh, all right. Ugham can come too. Four of us, then.”

One Who Survived the Darkness nodded and made arm signals to the Servants above, who immediately began to descend. The first two landed next to Cool of the Evening, and one of them took out a pair of wings that might have suited a doll, being no more than six inches long. But as the Servant shook them, they grew, and a few seconds later both Servants were helping Cool of the Evening detach her old wings and put on new ones.

“Hey,” said Suzy. “If they’ve got wings, they can just give us some. Beats being carried.”

One Who Survived the Darkness made an emphatic sign. “Ah, that’s ‘No’!” said Fred. “Guess they haven’t got enough.”

“Or they don’t want us flying around,” said Arthur. “Never mind. As long as we get up to the Top Shelf faster than on this raft.”

“It was good enough for you before!” protested a voice from below. The Servants jumped at the sound of it, wings flapping and hands going to weapons.

“First it’s ‘Give us a ride even if it’s against the rules,’” Pirkin continued. “Now, it’s ‘Your raft’s too slow.’ There’ll be a minute of protest issued by the next meeting of the Association, I can tell you!”

“We’re very grateful, Pirkin,” said Arthur. “For the clothes, the hot water, the ride on the raft. Everything. I shall personally see to it that you and your crew are com­mended if ... when ... I take over the Middle House.”

“Those clothes are property of the Assoc—” Pirkin started to say. “Commended? What, with a certificate and all?”

“A big framed certificate,” Arthur promised. “With all my seals on it, for all the demesnes from the Lower House on up.”

“Well, that’s handsome,” said Pirkin. “And if the Noble and Exalted Association of Waterway Motivators can ever be of help to you, you know where to find us. On the canal!”

Pirkin’s skinny arm reached up out of the gap in the reeds. Arthur shook the Denizen’s hand, then it was with­drawn and a moment later the gap closed. Pirkin, however pleased he was with a potential commendation, was not going to risk coming out.

“We need to go, Arthur,” said Fred. “The Servants hold the skylock above but there is the risk of a counterattack. And they need to be back in their eyrie before dawn.”

“Where is that?” asked Arthur.

All three Servants hissed and made the “no” sign, then One Who Survived the Darkness made a few more. The three launched themselves into the air and other Servants joined them to flutter a dozen feet above the heads of Arthur and his friends.

“It’s a secret,” said Fred. “Up anyway. Oh, they want us to lie on our stomachs and hold up our legs and arms. Easier for them to pick us up that way.”

“Or kill us,” muttered Suzy, very quietly. “Not that I s’pose they’re going to.”

“I think we can trust them,” Arthur whispered back. He put away the Fourth Key and checked to make sure it was securely on his belt, and that the crystal with the speck of the Architect’s gold leaf was secure in an inside pocket. “They could have attacked us straight away. And Fred wanted to be one, so they can’t be all bad.”

“I wanted to be a Nithling with three heads once, so that’s no guarantee,” whispered Suzy as she lay down and raised her arms and feet. “What’s more, after a washing between the ears I thought it was possible.”

Arthur smiled but the smile only lasted a moment as he caught sight of the four dead Artful Loungers. Though they were Denizens and stranger-than-usual ones at that, and enemies, he still felt bad that they were dead, at his hand.

All this fighting is so unnecessary, he thought as he lay down and put up his hands and feet. I guess the sooner I have the Fifth Key, the better, so I can try to stop it. Not that I’ve managed to completely stop the fighting with the Piper’s Newniths in the Great Maze. I just wish the Trustees would give up and hand over the Keys, like they were sup­posed to do in the first place. Then I could ...

Arthur’s thoughts were distracted as he felt the rush of air from four sets of Servant wings. Four pairs of Servants’ hands carefully grabbed his wrists and ankles, their claws withdrawn. Then, with an even greater downdraft from the beating wings, he was airborne.

Arthur did not want to pick up his train of thought, at least in part because he was uncomfortable about where it was going. But he couldn’t help but linger on it for a moment longer.

What am I going to do if I somehow do manage to defeat the last three Morrow Days and get all the Keys? If I can just get home ... keep the family safe ... stay human ...
Chapter Seventeen

“MText Box: CCy arms and legs are going to come out and my body is going to drop like a horrible lump if we don’t land soon!” shouted Suzy.

“It can’t be too long,” Arthur shouted back, though he actually had no idea how long it would be. His shoulders and h*ps hurt terribly too, but there wasn’t much point in complaining about it.

They’d passed the first skylock fairly quickly after leav­ing the raft, witnessing a brief skirmish between twenty or thirty winged Artful Loungers and an unclear number of Winged Servants, who they only saw in the flashes of fire-wash from their projectors or when they tussled hand to hand with the more illuminated enemy.

It was much warmer in the Middle of the Middle, which was a relief to Arthur. Being frozen as well as having your arms and legs pulled out by the joints had nothing to recommend it.