There was something. There, in the side of the moun­tain, about halfway up, was a small vertical crevasse, a slit in the rock that hinted at dark caverns behind.

Arthur slipped one wing down and flew around in a gentle curve to take a better look. Everyone else followed, with some of the Gilded Youths going above Arthur and some below.

“Entrance Winged Servants Night home,” crackled Fifteen. “Entry forbidden day flyers.”

“The arrow is definitely pointing there,” said Arthur. He flew closer and hovered like a hummingbird in order to peer in the crevasse. It was only the height of a door and half as wide, and there was no ledge or step to stand on, so it would be very difficult to enter. “How do the Servants fly in?”

Suzy came to hover next to him, and Ugham and Fred hovered above.

“You’d have to fly at it and fold your wings at the last minute and kind of dive through,” she said finally, and did a quick loop below. It was hard work to keep hovering.

“Forbidden day flyers,” reiterated Fifteen.

“You’ll never fit through there, Ugham,” said Arthur. “I guess Suzy, me, and Fred will have to go alone. I hope the Servants are still feeling friendly.”

“They were a bit funny about their secret eyrie,” said Fred cautiously.

“I have to go in.” Arthur looked at the crystal again. The tiny arrow was pointing directly at the crevasse. “Part Five of the Will is in there somewhere.”

“My duty is to stay with Suzy and Fred,” said Ugham. “Yet the way is too narrow for such as I am.”

“I’ll go in alone,” said Arthur. “This is going to be tricky. Ah, Fifteen, can you and your ... um ... people circle here for a while, till I come back out?”

“Arthur commands is done,” replied Fifteen, and turned away, the other Gilded Youths following as she flew in a wide circle out from the mountainside and back again.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” said Arthur. “Keep an eye out for the Piper or Saturday’s Dusk flying back down from the Scriptorium.”

“We will,” rumbled Ugham. He flew away from the mountain too, to join the circling of Gilded Youths. But Suzy and Fred did not.

“Quick!” said Suzy. “Let’s get in before Uggie gets upset!”
Chapter Twenty

Suzy flew in a shallow dive at the narrow crack, folded her wings beautifully, and slid through, disappearing from sight, though a loud “Ouch!” announced that she had landed somewhere inside.

Arthur and Fred tried to go at the same time, Arthur only just flapping back as he saw they would collide. Fred mistimed his entry and a dozen tip-feathers of his left wing exploded into the air like blown petals as they caught on the edge of the crack.

Arthur flew in almost immediately after Fred. He man­aged to fold his wings properly but was going too fast. He landed at a run and then his legs buckled under him and he fell forward, striking the rocky ground on his elbows and knees, losing some skin under his paper clothes.

“Dark in here,” said Suzy, somewhere in the gloom. “Do you mind if I light my wings up, Arthur?”

“Not too much. We don’t want to hurt the Servants.”

Suzy muttered something and her folded wings began to emanate a soft, warm glow. Fred opened his mouth to ask his wings to shed light too, but Arthur interrupted.

“Just Suzy’s for now, Fred. Are your wings all right, by the way? You lost some feathers on the way in.”

“Did I?” Fred twisted around, trying to look at his own back. “I think they’ll still work. I suppose I won’t know till I try to fly ....”

“At least there’s plenty of people outside to catch you,” said Arthur. “We’d better remember to warn them, though, when you’re coming out. Suzy, can you see a way ahead?”

“Yes,” said Suzy. “We’re in a kind of tunnel. It’s nar­row and winds around a bit, but we can get through.”

She took a few steps and Arthur heard a splash.

“Wet underfoot too,” said Suzy. “Lots of puddles.”

They followed the tunnel for at least a hundred yards, going ever deeper into the mountain. It got wetter too, water dripping from the walls and ceiling as well as pool­ing in puddles beneath their feet. Every twenty paces or so, Arthur checked the gold leaf crystal, and the arrow kept pointing farther in.

At last, Suzy stopped. Arthur couldn’t see past her because the tunnel was so narrow.

“There’s an iron gate,” Suzy reported. Arthur heard her rattle it. “It’s locked.”

“Is there a knocker or a bell?” asked Fred.

“Don’t be stupid, Fred,” said Suzy. “The Servants wouldn’t put a knocker on their secret eyrie gate .... Hmm ....”

Suzy reached up and pulled something, and they heard the jangle of several bells ringing together even deeper within the mountain.

“Told you,” said Fred.

“It wasn’t a knocker anyway,” replied Suzy. “I only said they wouldn’t have a knocker.”

“Quiet,” ordered Arthur. “Someone’s coming. Dim your wings a bit more, Suzy.”

Suzy muttered and the light from her wings faded down to about the same luminosity as a child’s night-light, hardly enough to relieve the shadows around the three of them.

“We should have gotten Fred to go first,” whispered Arthur as they listened to whoever or whatever it was com­ing along the tunnel ahead of them. “To do the signs.”

“They can hear all right,” said Suzy. “And I was watching. I reckon I learned a few signs. I could try them out—”

“No!” Arthur and Fred said together. Arthur was about to add something but Suzy had started talking to a Servant the others couldn’t see.

“Mornin’. Or hello again, in case we met last night. I’m Suzy Turquoise Blue and I’ve got Lord Arthur, the

Rightful Heir to the Architect, behind me ... and Fred, who can do your signs. Can we come through? Arthur has to find Part Five of the Will of the Architect. Thanks. By the way, have you lot ever thought about putting some drains in this tunnel? My feet are fair saturated—”

“Suzy!” whispered Arthur. “What’s happening?”

“What? Oh, no problem, Arthur. Lot of nodding, a bit of hissing, and now he’s going away.”

“Did he open the gate?”

“Nope, but he’s gone to get someone, I reckon.”

“I hope you’re right,” grumbled Arthur. “It is wet in here.”

No one spoke for a few minutes, then Fred suddenly said, “You know, what if this whole tunnel is a drain?”

“Fred ...” Arthur started to say, but then they all heard the jangling of keys, and Suzy said, “Greetings.”

A key turned noisily in the lock and the gate creaked open. Suzy moved forward with the others sloshing along behind. The tunnel curved to the right and began to widen. Soon all three could walk abreast, and in the light from Suzy’s wings they could make out the shape of the Servant who was leading them past other tunnel openings, some of which had Servants standing in front of them, either at guard or out of curiosity to see who’d shown up.

I hope we are treated as honored visitors, thought

Arthur. I don’t know how the Key would protect me from one of their firewash projectors. I’d probably get horribly burnt but wouldn’t die ....

They moved through the maze of tunnels for at least ten minutes and saw many Servants. The strange black leather-clad Denizens all had their snouted helmets on, and all of them watched silently, standing so still they might have been mistaken for statues.

At last they came to a larger space, big enough that they couldn’t see the walls or the ceiling in the light from Suzy’s wings. A Servant stood waiting for them. Arthur wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed when he saw the moonstone claws on her gloves and recognized One Who Survived the Darkness.

The Servant who had brought them to the place bowed to One Who Survived the Darkness and edged back out. Arthur nodded, Suzy gave a salute that was actually more respectful than she usually managed, and Fred bowed.

“Greetings again,” said Arthur. “I apologize for com­ing to your eyrie without an invitation. I have come to find Part Five of the Will of the Architect and I think it is here somewhere.”

He took out the crystal and held it up. As he did so, he noticed that the arrow was now pointing down at a sharp angle.

“Oh! It was pointing here,” he said. “Now it says far­ther down. Are there deeper levels?”

One Who Survived the Darkness made a series of signs.

Fred translated, “‘You are welcome, Lord Arthur. I have long known someone would come, from my own’.... Hmm .... Don’t know what that sign is .... My own, uh, interior?”

One Who Survived the Darkness made another sign. “Close enough,” said Fred. “Anyway, she’s known you would come here.”

“Oh, right,” said Arthur. “Good.”

“‘The place you seek lies below,” translated Fred. “‘A guide will take you there to the ... Interior’ ... no ... ‘Inner Darkness.’”

“Thanks,” said Arthur.

“‘Only you, Lord Arthur, may enter the secret place of the Winged Servants of the Night, but the others may go to the entrance.’”

“Thanks,” said Arthur again.

“‘Your guide will take you now. May we meet again’ ... uh, no ... that’s actually ‘maybe we will meet again.’”

“I hope we do,” said Arthur. He turned to find a Servant standing silently directly behind him, and jumped.

The Servant beckoned and turned to go. Arthur nod­ded to One Who Survived the Darkness and quickly followed, with Suzy and Fred at his heels.

The guide led them through yet more tunnels and tun­nel junctions, and once more past many Servants. Arthur wasn’t sure whether they were new ones, in which case there were an awful lot of Winged Servants of the Night inside the mountain. They all looked pretty much the same in their leather suits and snout-masked helmets.

After a while they reached a tunnel that slanted sharply down. It was barred by another iron gate, which the Servant unlocked with a key the size of Arthur’s hand. After the gate there were a series of very broad steps that took them down even more swiftly, and then at the base of the steps there was an iron manhole cover that would not have looked out of place in the Balaena, the Raised Rats’ submarine that Arthur and Suzy had traveled in under the Border Sea.

The Servant spun the locking wheel on the manhole cover and heaved it open. A wet, cold draft came billowing out, along with a curious, musty odor.

“Phew! Bit of a stink,” said Suzy as she held her nose. “What’s that from?”

The Servant made some signs.

“‘The untrained animal,’” translated Fred.

The Servant shook his head and added some more signs and then repeated the first ones he’d used.

“Oh, right,” said Fred. “The Beast. A special kind of beast ... the Beast in the Inner Darkness, or something like that.”

They all watched the Servant’s hands move again, the webbing between the fingers of its black gloves stretching as its fingers flickered, signing out another message.

“‘We worship it ... we fear it ....’” translated Fred. “It ... I can’t quite work out this bit ....”

The Winged Servant of the Night repeated the signs. Fred shook his head. Then the Servant pointed at itself, put three fingers in the fixed open mouth of its sharp-snouted mask, and for the first time made a sound. A chewing sound.

“Oh,” said Fred. He gulped and continued, “‘Sometimes it eats one of us.’ Look, I’m not sure you should go in, Arthur.”

“Part Five of the Will is down there,” said Arthur, checking the crystal again to make sure the arrow was pointing in the same direction. “I’m pretty ... I’m fairly sure. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

“What if it’s something else?”

“The Key will protect me,” said Arthur. He tapped the end of the marshal’s baton. It felt comforting to know it was still there.

“It will make sure you don’t get completely killed,” said Suzy. “But it won’t stop you from getting your leg chewed off. Slowly.”

“Thanks for that reminder.”

“I’d better go with you,” Suzy insisted. “I’m interested in this Inner Darkness anyway. It wouldn’t be a bother—”

The Servant shook his head and pointed at Arthur, then waved his open palm in a dismissive gesture in front of Suzy and Fred, before adding several other emphatic finger signs.

“‘As One Who Survived the Darkness said, only Arthur is allowed to enter the secret place of the Winged Servants of the Night,’” interpreted Fred. “‘If the Beast does not eat him, he will return safely.’”

“I’m sure it’s the Will.” Arthur knew that by saying it aloud he actually made himself less confident, but he couldn’t help it. He only just managed not to say it several more times. “I’d better get going.”

“Good luck, Arthur,” said Suzy. “If the Beast does bite your leg off, or your arms, you know that I’ll—”

“I know, I know,” interrupted Arthur hastily, eager to forestall any more of Suzy’s helpful comments.

“It’ll be the Will for sure,” said Fred, though his voice cracked. He stood at attention and saluted. Arthur recog­nized it as the kind of ultra-snappy salute you give to someone who’s going on a mission from which it is likely there will be no return.