Keys To The Kingdom_ Sir Thursday Part 2

"There is more to fear," said Dame Primus. "We will speak of it soon."

"All clear," Noon reported from outside, and the elevator door slid silentl y open to reveal the entrance hall of Monday's Dayroom. Architecturally it looked pretty much like it had the last time Arthur had seen it, after the steaming mud pits and iron platforms had been transformed into old-fas.h.i.+one d rooms that reminded him of a museum. But there was a major difference: No w there were thousands of bundles of paper tied up with red ribbon and stac ked from floor to ceiling all along the walls of the hall. Every ten feet o r so these piles would have a Denizen-sized gap, each occupied by a Commiss ionaire Sergeant standing at attention.

"What's with all the paper?" Leaf asked as they walked down the hall.

No one answered until Arthur repeated the question.

"The Middle and Upper House are bombarding us with paperwork," said Dame P rimus. "It is an effective effort to tie up our resources and impede our r eorganization. Take the next door on the left, Arthur. Sneezer should have everything ready for our council."

The next door on the left was also completely surrounded by stacked bundle s of paper. It looked ordinary enough, just a simple wooden door with a so lid bronze doork.n.o.b. Arthur turned the k.n.o.b and pushed the door open.

A vast chamber lay on the other side, a room four or five times the size of t he gym at Arthur's school, with a ceiling ten times as high. The floor, walls , and ceiling were lined with white marble, veined in gold, so that Arthur's first impression was that he had walked into some kind of giant's tacky bathr oom.

In the middle of this huge room sat a round table about a hundred feet in di ameter. It appeared to be made of cast iron, painted deep red. It was hollow in the middle, and around the outside there were a hundred or more tall-bac ked chairs, also made of wrought iron, this time painted white. One chair ha d a much higher back, and it was either made of solid gold or gilded iron. T he chair next to it was also taller, but not quite so much, and it slowly ch anged color from red to white to gold and back again.

Sneezer, the butler, stood in the open center of the table, a white cloth o ver one arm of his now immaculate coat. His once-untidy hair was combed bac k, tied with a gold ribbon and powdered white. He held a silver tray with t hree crystal tumblers of something orange (probably juice) and a tall wineg la.s.s full of a blood-colored liquid Arthur hoped was actually wine.

There was no one sitting on the chairs, but there was a large crowd of De nizens behind the table, all standing quietly. Arthur recognized Dr. Scam andros and waved, and then he waved again as he saw Sunscorch slightly be hind him, looking very fine but somewhat uncomfortable in the admiral's u niform that was his right as the new Wednesday's Noon. Soon Arthur was wa ving all over the place as he recognized j.a.peth the Thesaurus and Mathias the Supply Clerk standing together, and Monday's Dawn and Wednesday's Da wn, and others from his previous adventures as Leaf might call them i n the House.

"Take your seats," bellowed Dame Primus, her voice going all gravelly and lo w, startling Leaf. "Let this council be in session. Suzanna, you can return the Transfer Plates to the china cabinet before you join us, please."

Suzy grimaced, gave a clattering curtsy, and ran out, pausing to stick out h er tongue at Dame Primus as the Will turned and gestured at the golden chair .

"That is your throne, Lord Arthur. Everyone else is arranged in order of pre cedence."

"Where do I sit, then?" asked Leaf.

"You may stand behind Arthur," said Dame Primus coldly.

"Actually, I think Leaf had better have a chair next to me," said Arthur firm ly. "As an honored guest."

"Very good, sir," said Sneezer, making Arthur jump. The butler was somehow behind him now, offering him an orange juice. "I shall place a chair for Miss Leaf."

"I have prepared an agenda for this council," announced Dame Primus as she sat down. Her chair swirled through red, white, and gold and Arthur noticed it grew a few inches at the back, almost matching his own chair's height.

Dame Primus tapped a large hard-bound book of at least three or four hundre d pages that was sitting in front of her on the table. Arthur had a copy in front of his seat too. He sat down, dragged the book over, flipped the cov er open, and read Being an Agenda for a Council to Discuss Various Troubles ome Matters Pertaining to the House, the Release of the Will of the Archite ct, the a.s.sumption of the Rightful Heir, and other Diverse Matters.

The next page had a list of items numbered from one to thirty. The page after that had thirty-one through sixty.

Arthur turned to the end and saw that there were over six thousand Agenda items.

"I suggest we begin with Item One," said Dame Primus. "And work our way through."

Arthur looked at Item One.

Arbitration Between Demesnes, Article One: The Dispute Concerning Reco rd Filing and Transport of Records between the Middle and Lower House.

"The Agenda is arranged alphabetically," said Dame Primus helpfully. "All th e Arbitration matters are first."

"I haven't got time for this," said Arthur. He shut the agenda book with a l oud clap. "What I want to know is what that Spirit-eater is, what it's going to do to my family, and how to get rid of it. Dr. Scamandros, do you know?"

"This is quite improper," Dame Primus complained. "I must protest, Lord A rthur. How can we properly come to conclusions and act effectively if we don't follow our agenda?"

"Why don't you put the Agenda in order of importance, and while you're doin g that, we'll talk about the Spirit-eater," said Arthur, not daring to look at Dame Primus as he spoke. There was something about her that made him wa nt to quietly sit and do as he was told. She reminded him of the scariest t eacher he'd ever had, who could stun a cla.s.sroom into silence just by appea ring in the doorway. But like that teacher, Arthur found that if he didn't meet her gaze, she was easier to confront. "Dr. Scamandros?"

"Ah, well, I haven't had much time to look into things," said Scamandros w ith a jittery glance at Dame Primus. The tattoos of palm trees on his chee ks suddenly shook and half a dozen nervous monkeys fell out and slid down to his chin before the palm trees disappeared and were replaced by clock f aces with swiftly moving hands. "I mean, I barely had time for a gla.s.s of revitalizing tonic at Port Wednesday before I was hustled here. But nevert heless, I do have some information, collected with the aid of Monday's Noo n, who while not trained in the Upper House is nevertheless a capable sorcerer"

He paused to bow to Monday's Noon, who bowed back. Arthur gripped his oran ge juice and tried not to look too impatient. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Suzy slink back in and sit on the floor, hidden behind Monday's No on.

"As far as we can ascertain," Scamandros continued, "Spirit-eaters have only been raised on a handful of occasions in the whole history of the House. A Sp irit-eater is a potent and unpleasant type of Nithling created to a.s.sume the ident.i.ty of someone, either Denizen or mortal. Its chief power is to cloak it self in an exact likeness of its target, and it also has the ability to extru de its mentality into those around it, whether they be mortal or Denizen "

"What?" interrupted Arthur. "What does 'extrude its mentality' mean?"

"I'm not too certain Apparently once a Spirit-eater has done it, though, it i s able to control its victims' minds and read their recent thoughts and memori es. It does this in order to further its deception. Initially it will have onl y the usual, exterior knowledge of its target, so it seeks to learn more from the target's confidantes and fellows."

"You mean it's going to mentally take over my family?" Arthur spilled his or ange juice as he stood up in agitation. "How long will it take to do that?"

"Yes, that isI suppose that is what it will do," said Scamandros. "Though I don't know how."

"How much time would it need?" asked Arthur. This was the worst thing, his family being in danger. He remembered the two Grim's Grotesques breathing their foul breath of forgetting over his father, how he had felt in that awful second as that fog had rolled over his dad. Now his whole family was threatened again, and he was stuck in the House. They would be defenseless.

I have to help them, Arthur thought desperately. There has to be someth ingsomeone "A few days, I think. But I cannot say for certain," said Scamandros.

Arthur looked at Leaf. She met his gaze.

"I guess you're thinking what I'm thinking," she said. "You can't go back or the whole world goes kapow. But I could go back and try and get rid of this S pirit-eater."

"I don't know," said Arthur. "It sounds very dangerous. Maybe Monday's N oon could "

"No interference!" boomed Dame Primus. "Remember the Original Law! The mortal may return to whence she came, but no others may sully the Archi tect's work."

"I think it's more than a bit sullied already," said Arthur crossly. "How com e it's all right for the bad guys to do whatever they want, and whenever I wa nt to do something it's 'forget about it'? What's the good of being the Right ful Heir anyway? All I get is trouble!"

n.o.body answered Arthur's question, and he noticed everyone was not quite looking at him and no one was telling him to behave himself. He felt su ddenly weird, and wished that somebody would just say, "Shut up, Arthur, we've got work to do."

"Is it possible?" asked Leaf. "To get rid of the Spirit-eater, I mean."

Arthur and Leaf both looked at Scamandros. The tattoos on his face showed s ome anxiety, picturing shaky towers that were being built up stone by stone , only to fall down as the last course was laid.

"I think so. But it would require finding the item used to create the Spirit-e ater in the first place. That will be something personal from its target, over laid with spells. In this case, something of yours, Arthur, that was close to you for quite a while. A favorite book, or a spoon, or perhaps some piece of c lothing. Something of that order."

Arthur frowned in puzzlement. What could he have lost that could be used i n this way?

"When would this have happened?" he asked.

"It would have taken more than a year of House Time for the Spirit-eater t o be grown from Nothing," replied Dr. Scamandros. "A year How long has it been since I was given the minute hand by Miste r Monday?" Arthur asked. It was only the previous week for him, but much longer in the House. "In House Time, I mean?"

"A year and a half," replied Dame Primus stiffly. She had the Agenda open and was tapping it with a gold pencil. Every time she tapped, one of the i tems on the list moved up or down, or to some unseen page deeper in the vo lume.

"It must have been Monday's Fetchers," said Arthur.

"Or maybe one of Grim Tuesday's Grotesques. But I can't think of anything r eally personal that I've missed."

"You could enquire of the Atlas," said Dame Primus. "You still hold the Thi rd Key, so the Atlas will answer."

Arthur took the Atlas out of his pocket, set it on the table, and held the sma ll trident that was the Third Key with his right hand. But he didn't start con centrating on a question to ask the Atlas. After a moment, he put the Third Ke y down, the trident's tines pointing to the hollow center of the table.

"I have to be careful how much I use the Keys," he said slowly. "I already u sed this one quite a lot back in the Border Sea, and I don't want to turn in to a Denizen. Then I could never go back home."

"How close are you?" Leaf asked curiously. "Like, do you get to use the Ke y a hundred times or something and then wham, you're suddenly seven feet t all and a lot better looking?"

"I don't know," said Arthur. "That's part of the problem."

Dr. Scamandros gave a slight and rather fake-sounding cough and raised hi s hand. Dame Primus stopped tapping her agenda for a moment and stared at him, then continued with her rearranging.

"You may care to know, Lord Arthur," said Dr. Scamandros, "that there is a little student project of mine that could be of use to you. It mea sures the sorcerous contamination of things, including, of course, persons."

Scamandros started rummaging around inside his yellow greatcoat and pulled out a peac.o.c.k-feather fan, several enamelled snuff boxes, a scrimshaw lette r opener, and a bra.s.s piccolo, all of which he laid distractedly on the tab le.

"Here somewhere," he said, and then triumphantly pulled out a two-inch-squar e velvet box that was very worn around the edges. Opening it, he pa.s.sed it t o Sunscorch, who pa.s.sed it to Leaf, who looked curiously at the item inside before she gave it to Arthur. It was a slim silver crocodile coiled into a r ing, its tail in its jaws. It had bright pink diamonds for eyes, and its bod y was scored with lines that divided it into ten sections, each marked with a tiny engraved Roman numeral. "Is this relevant?" asked Dame Primus impatiently. "I am ready to proceed with the reordered Agenda."

Arthur ignored her and took the ring out of the box.

"What does this do?" he asked. "Do I put it on?"

"Yes, do put it on," replied Dr. Scamandros. "In essence, it will tell you th e degree to which you have been ah tainted with sorcery. It is not exact, o f course, and in the case of a mortal, the calibration is uncertain. I would say that if the ring turns more than six parts gold then you will have become irretrievably transformed into a "

"Can we move on?" snapped Dame Primus as Dr. Scamandros said, "Denize n."

Arthur put on the ring and watched with fascination and growing horror as e ach silver segment of the crocodile slowly turned from silver to gold.

One two three If he was transformed into a Denizen, he could never go back home. But he needed to use the Keys and the Atlas against the Morrow Days, and that m eant more sorcerous contamination.

Unless it was all too late already.

Arthur stared at the ring as the tide of gold continued on, flowing into the f ourth segment without slowing at all.

Chapter Three

Arthur kept staring at the ring with dread fascination. After the fourth segm ent the gold suddenly stopped spreading, and then it slowly ebbed back a litt le.

"It's almost up to the fourth line," Arthur reported.

"It is not exact," said Dr. Scamandros. "But that would concur with my pre vious examination. Your flesh, blood, and bone are some four-tenths contam inated with sorcery."

"And past six-tenths I become a Denizen?"

"Irrevocably."

"Can I get rid of the contamination?" Arthur tried to keep his voice calm. "D oes it wear off?"

"It will reduce with time," Scamandros replied. "Provided you don't add to i t. I would expect that degree of contamination to lessen in about a century. " "A century! It might as well be permanent. But how much would using the A tlas add to the contamination?"

"Without careful experimentation and observation I should not like to say. Considerably less than the interventions to heal your ailments, or to undo misdirected application of the Keys' power. Anything not focused on your ow n body will be less harmful."

"It is not harmful to become a Denizen," said Dame Primus. "It is to become a higher order of being. I cannot understand your reluctance to shed your mortality, Arthur. After all, you are the Rightful Heir of the Architect of Everything. Now can we please return to the Agenda?"

"I was only chosen because I was about to die and happened to be handy," s aid Arthur. "I bet you've got a stack of Rightful Heirs noted down somewhe re if something happens to me."

There was silence in the vast room for a few seconds, until Dame Primus cle ared her throat.

Before she could speak, Arthur raised his voice. "We will go back to the A genda! After we've worked out what to do about the Spirit-eater. I just wi sh I could remember what might have been taken."

"Try to work your way back through everything you did," Leaf suggested. " Did you drop your inhaler on the oval? Maybe they picked that up? Or did you have something at school when they burned the library?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think so Hey, wait a second!"

He turned to look at Monday's Dusk. He was slightly shorter than he had be en as Noon and looked rather less severe, though no less handsome. He wore the night-black, undertakerlike costume of Dusk, though he'd taken off hi s top hat with the long black silk scarf wound around its crown.

"You sent the Fetchers when you were Noon. Did one of them bring somethin g back, or were they banished straight into Nothing?"

"They did not return to me," said Dusk, his once-silver tongue now a s.h.i.+ny ebony, and his voice much softer. "But then I did not raise them in the f irst place. Mister Monday a.s.signed them to me. I presume he bought them fr om Grim Tuesday, for he would not have been energetic enough to create the m himself. You may recall that I was forced to return to the House when th e Fetchers and I cornered you at your school."

"At the school," Arthur said slowly, revisiting that scene in his memory. "Th ey took the Atlas! I'd forgotten, because the Atlas came back here and I just picked it up again. A Fetcher ripped the pocket off my s.h.i.+rt, and it got the Atlas with it "

"A pocket!" interrupted Scamandros, scattering the things he'd put on the ta ble with an excited wave of his arms, and the tower tattoos on his cheeks gr ew st.u.r.dier and sprouted fancy battlements. "That must be it. That will be t he source of this Spirit-eater. A sc.r.a.p of material that has lain next to yo ur heart, overlaid with charms and planted in Nothing to grow a Cocigrue! Fi nd that and we might be able to do something about the Spirit-eater!"

"Right," said Leaf. "That sounds really easy."

"You don't have to try," said Arthur. "I I understand if you want to stay out of all this."

"I don't think there's much choice," said Leaf. "I can't just let an evil clon e of you go around taking over people's minds, can I?"

"You could," said Arthur. Though Leaf was trying to make light of the situat ion, he could tell she was afraid. "I know people who wouldn't do anything u nless it directly affected them."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be one of those people. And if Ed's out of quar antine, he can help though I guess if it's still Wednesday when I get back he'll be stuck in the hospital"

Leaf made a face at the thought of her brother, Ed, still being stuck in the hospital. Her parents, aunt, and brother had all suffered from the Sleepy Pla gue and been quarantined.

"Anyway, Doc, is there anything particular that I can do to this Spirit-eater, you know, like salt gets rid of Fetchers and silver dissolved that Scoucher?"

Dr. Scamandros pursed his lips, and wooden scaffolding appeared around th e tower tattoos on his cheeks, propping them up.