“To be exact, Friday a week from the Thursday on which Miss Leaf embarked on her action against the Skinless Boy.”

“A week! You mean I’ve been missing on Earth for a week?!”

“I believe that is so, sir. Dr. Scamandros has suggested that the destruction of the Skinless Boy created a minor fracture of the temporal relationship between you and the Secondary Realm in which you normally reside.”

“My parents must think ... What’s happened to my mom and dad?”

“I regret to inform you, Lord Arthur, that while your father is safe—though reluctantly engaged in being driven very long distances in a bus and stopping at night to play music with an ensemble named after rodents—it appears that your mother is not currently in your own Secondary Realm—”

“What?” croaked Arthur. His throat felt suddenly choked and dry. “Where is she? Who ... how ...”

“There is great disturbance in your world, Lord Arthur,” said Sneezer. His voice was getting fainter. “A number of mortals have been taken elsewhere within the Secondary Realms. I think your mother is among that group, though it is possible that not all the disappearances have been effectuated by the same agency. It is not at all clear who is responsible, though the natural assumption would be Lady Friday, since the disappearances appear to have occurred on that day.”

Arthur forced himself to be calm, to try to think, not just panic. But the panic was bubbling up inside him. He wanted to just shut his eyes and fade out until someone else took care of everything. But someone else wasn’t going to take care of him, or his mother, or anything ....

He took two breaths that were not as deep as he wanted them to be, though it was shock and fear affecting his lungs, not his usual asthma. He didn’t suffer from asthma in the House.

“Find out where Mom is ... where they all are,” he ordered Sneezer. “Get Dr. Scamandros on it. Get anyone who can help to ... to help. Oh—what about Leaf? Is she okay?”

“I believe Miss Leaf is one of the abducted mortals,” said Sneezer carefully. His voice was very faint now, as if the telephone was a long way from his mouth. “One of the main group of abductees, that is to say. Though in her case she might have chosen to go along. I couldn’t get a clear view of the proceedings; there was an opacity resulting from some opposing power. However, it appeared—”

“Get off!” said the operator suddenly, over the top of Sneezer’s voice. “No, I’m not coming down the line .... Get off! Stop it! Ah! Help! It’s got my foot—pull me back, lads! Heave!”

A whole host of voices joined in then, shouting and screaming, and whatever Sneezer was saying was lost. Then there was a deafening howl, as if someone had trod on the tail of an extremely large and unfriendly wolf, and the handset crumbled into dust in Arthur’s hands, leaving him holding a single wire that let out a small and pathetic spark before he hastily dropped it.

“We have to find my mom,” said Arthur.

“Your destiny does not include a mortal family,” Dame Primus declared. “As I have said before, you should shake off those minor shackles. As I understand it, your parents are not blood relations, in any case.”

“They’re my parents,” Arthur protested. He had long since gotten used to being adopted, but there was still some sting in the Will’s words. “Emily and Bob love me, and I love them. I love all my family.”

“That is a mortal invention,” said Dame Primus. “It is of no use in the House.”

“What?” asked Arthur.

“Love,” Dame Primus answered, her lips twisted in distaste. “Now, Lord Arthur, I really must insist that we attend to at least the most significant items of the agenda. I have reordered it as you requested.”

“I requested?” Arthur’s voice was vacant, since he was still in shock. He’d tried so hard to protect his family. Everything he’d done had been to keep them out of things. But it hadn’t worked. Superior Saturday had threatened to use the Skinless Boy to take his place, to erase their minds so they forgot the real Arthur. Since that hadn’t worked, maybe now Friday or Saturday had kidnapped his mom .... Arthur’s mind raced as he tried to get a grip on the situation.

“At our meeting in Monday’s Dayroom,” said Dame Primus. “Before you were drafted. Do pay attention, Lord Arthur.”

“I’m thinking,” snapped Arthur. “Captain Drury, do you have a spare phone? I have to get Sneezer on the line again. And Dr. Scamandros.”

“Arthur, this is not—”

Dame Primus got no further, as two of Arthur’s Legionary guards suddenly grabbed him and pulled him back, and two more jumped in front of him and locked their shields with an almighty crash. The embodiment of the Will leaped back too, and all over the room there was the sudden whine of savage-swords and the acrid, ozone smell of lightning-charged tulwars as everyone drew their weapons.

Arthur couldn’t even see what his guards had reacted to, until he stood on tiptoe and looked over the locked shields to see that someone had appeared only a few feet in front of where he’d been standing.

That someone was a tall, slight female Denizen clad in a very unmilitary flowing robe made of thousands of tiny silver strips that chinked as she moved. Over that beautiful garment she wore a thick leather apron, with several pock­ets out of which protruded the wooden handles of weapons or perhaps tools. This strange ensemble was completed by the silver branch she held in her right hand, from which a dozen small cylindrical fruits of spun gold hung suspended, tinkling madly as half a dozen Denizens threw themselves upon her.

“I’m a messenger!” she shouted. “A herald! Not an assassin! Look, I’ve got an olive branch!”

“Looks more like a lemon branch,” said the Legionary Decurion as he twisted it out of the Denizen’s grasp. He looked over at Arthur. “Sorry, sir! We’ll have her out of here in a moment!”

“I’m an emissary from Lady Friday!” shouted the silver—

robed Denizen, who could hardly be seen amid the scrum of soldiers. “I insist on an audience with Lord Arthur!”

“Wait!” Arthur and Dame Primus called out at the same time.

The Legionaries stopped dragging the sudden visitor away, though they kept a very firm grip on her.

“Who are you?” demanded Dame Primus at the same time that Arthur asked, “How did you get here?”

“I’m Emelena Folio Gatherer, Second Grade, 10,218th in precedence within the House,” declared the Denizen. “I have been sent as a herald to Lord Arthur, with a mes­sage from Lady Friday, who sent me here through her mirror.”

“Through her mirror?” asked Arthur, as Dame Primus said, “What message?”

Arthur and Dame Primus looked at each other for a long moment. Finally the embodiment of the Will lowered her chin very slightly. Arthur turned back to Emelena.

“What mirror?”

“Lady Friday’s mirror,” said Emelena. She added hesi­tantly, “Am I correct in assuming that I address Lord Arthur?”

“Yes, I’m Arthur.”

Emelena mumbled something that Arthur correctly thought was about expecting him to be taller, more impres­sive, have lightning bolts coming out of his eyes, and so on. Ever since someone in the House had written a book about Lord Arthur, every Denizen he’d met had been disap­pointed by his lack of heroic stature and presence.

“Lady Friday’s mirror,” asked Arthur. “It can send you anywhere within the House and the Secondary Realms?”

“I don’t know, Lord Arthur,” replied Emelena. “I’ve never been sent anywhere before. Usually I’m a senior page collator of the Guild of Binding and Restoration in the Middle House.”

“Friday’s mirror is known to us, Lord Arthur,” said Dame Primus through pursed lips. She looked around the room, then pointed to a highly polished metal shield that was one of the trophies hung on the wall. “Someone take that shield down and put it in the dark.”

She paused to watch several Denizens dash forward to carry out her orders, then continued, “Friday’s mirror is akin to the Seven Dials in the Lower House. Powered by the Fifth Key, she can look out or send Denizens through any mirror or reflective surface, provided she has been there before herself by more usual means. Which does make us wonder when and why Lady Friday has come here before to meet with Sir Thursday. However, what is of most importance now is the message Lady Friday sends. I trust it is her unconditional and total surrender?”

“After a fashion,” said Emelena. “I think. Perhaps.”

This time, Arthur was silent, while Dame Primus drew in her breath with an all-too-snakelike hiss.

“Shall I tell you the message?” asked Emelena. “I’ve got it memorized.”

“Go ahead,” said Arthur.

Emelena took a deep breath, clasped her hands together, and without looking directly at Arthur or Dame Primus, began to speak a little too fast and without emphasizing the punctuation, though she did stop every now and then to draw breath.

greetings lord arthur from lady friday trustee of the architect and mistress of the middle house i greet you through my mouthpiece who is to deliver my words exactly as i have spoken them knowing full well that you seek the fifth key and will stop at nothing to get it as saturday and the piper will likewise do and in the interest of a quiet life pursuing my own researches into aspects of mortality I have decided to abdicate as mistress of the fifth house and leave the key for whomsoever might find it and wield it as he or she sees fit i ask only that i be left alone in my sanctuary which lies outside the house in the secondary realms with such servants as who choose to join me there my messengers have gone to saturday and the piper bearing this same offer whoever of you three can find and take the key from where it lies within in scriptorium in the middle house is welcome to it the key shall accept you or saturday or the piper the fifth part of the Will J also leave in the middle house and ,7 take no further responsibility for its incarcera­tion but shall not release it either lest it take the Key itself my abdication shall take place upon the moment all three of you have read this message and at that moment this act shall be recorded on the metal tablet my messenger also bears

Emelena stopped, took a deep breath, and bowed. When she stood up, she added, “I have the metal tablet in an envelope here, Lord Arthur.”

She took a small but heavy buff-colored envelope out of her apron pocket and held it out to Arthur. He instinc—

tively reached for it and his fingers had just touched the envelope when Dame Primus shouted, “No! Don’t take—”

Her warning came a fraction of a second too late, as

Arthur’s fingers closed and Emelena’s let go. As he took the weight, Arthur felt a sudden surge of sorcerous energy erupt out of the package. The envelope blew apart in a shower of tiny confetti and Arthur had a fraction of a second to see that what he was now holding was a small round plate made of some highly burnished silvery metal.

Then everything around him vanished, to be replaced by a sudden rush of freezing air, the nauseous shock of disorientation, and the sudden fearful realization that he was falling ... followed seconds later by his sudden impact with the ground.
Chapter Three

Arthur lay stunned for several seconds. He wasn’t hurt, but was seriously shocked from the sudden shift from where he’d been to where he was now, which was flat on his back in a deep drift of snow. Looking up, all he could see were large, puffy gray clouds and some lazy, downward-spiraling snowflakes. One landed in his open mouth, prompting him to shut it.

The silvery disk of metal from Lady Friday was still in his hand. Arthur raised his head a little and looked at it. He’d never seen the metal electrum before, but this plate was certainly made of that alloy of silver and gold, which he’d learned was the traditional material of Transfer Plates. Like the one he was holding in his hand. It must have been set to transfer whoever took it from the messenger, as soon as he or she touched it.

In other words, it was a trap that had instantly trans­ported Arthur from the relative safety of the Great Maze to somewhere else. Somewhere where he would be more vulnerable ....

Arthur’s thinking suddenly became more organized, the momentary shock of the transfer banished by sudden adrenaline. He sat up and took a careful look around, at the same time taking a series of deep breaths. The look was to see if there were any immediate enemies approaching. The deep breaths were to see if his asthma was com­ing back. If it was, then that would mean he had left the House and was somewhere on Earth ... or some other Secondary Realm.

His breathing was easy, unaffected by the shock and cold. Still, Arthur was puzzled. It didn’t look like any part of the House that he knew. It was too naturalistic. Usually you could tell that the sky was in fact a ceiling way above, or the sun moved in a jerky, clockwork way. Here, every­thing felt like it would back on Earth.

It was certainly cold and he was very wet from the snow. Arthur shivered and then shivered again. It took concentrated effort not to keep on shivering. To take his mind off it, he stood up and vigorously brushed off the snow. Not that it did much good, since the drift came up to his thighs.

“I wonder if I can freeze to death?” Arthur said aloud. Though he spoke softly, it was so quiet around him that even his own voice was a bit disturbing. So was the ques­tion. He knew that he couldn’t die of hunger or thirst in the House, and that the Fourth Key would to some degree protect him from physical threats, though not from pain and suffering. But he was still mortal and he was feeling very cold indeed.