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"Sir Thursday holds the Fourth Key," said Dame Primus. "As he commands the Glorious Army of the Architect and is a very powerful, volatile, and exce ssively violent Denizen, it would not be wise to confront him directly. In stead, we think it best if we employ agents to discover where Part Four of the Will has been imprisoned by Sir Thursday. Once we have found and rele ased Part Four, then we can consider our next move. In the meantime, becau se of the danger from a.s.sa.s.sins, it would be best if you go to Port Wednes day under guard and work to contain the Border Sea with the Third Key."
"Right" said Arthur. He frowned and sipped his orange juice as he tried t o figure out what he should do. The only thing he knew for sure was that i f he wanted any chance of ever getting back to being normal, he had to avo id using the Keys. Obviously the Third Key needed to be used right now to get the Border Sea back under control. But Dame Primus could do that. And I'll just hide out here, thought Arthur bitterly. He felt powerless and tr apped, but at the same time, he could not think of anything else he could do.
"If I use the Third Key that much, then I will turn into a Denizen, full stop, " Arthur said finally. "But I realize that the Border Sea must be contained. S o I will give you the Third Key." "Good," said Dame Primus. She smiled and tapped her agenda a few times wit h satisfaction, then suddenly stopped as if struck by a sudden recollectio n. "However, you are the Rightful Heir. You should not remain a weak morta l. It probably would be best for you to keep and use all three Keys and be come a Denizen as quickly as possible." Arthur was irritated now. "I've told you tons of times I know I can't go home now, but at least there's a chance a small chance that one day, if I don't become a Denizen oh, forget it!"
Arthur sat back down and slapped the table angrily, spoiling the effect by c hoking slightly on his own spit as he did so. To clear his throat, he picked up his orange juice and drank it down until something hard rolled out of the cup and into his mouth, almost choking him for real.
Arthur spat out whatever it was onto the table. The object rang like a bell as it hit the metal surface, rolled in ever-decreasing circles, and quivered to a stop. It was a silver coin, about twice the diameter of a quarter.
"What the " said Arthur. "There was a coin in my drink!"
"No," said Dame Primus. She dropped her gold pencil and a tortoisesh.e.l.l fan appeared in her hand. As she resumed speaking, she fanned her face in agit ation. "Surely you wouldn't be eligible?"
"What are you talking about?" Arthur picked up the coin and looked at it. O ne side showed a knight's head, with the visor of his helmet up and ostrich plumes falling down one side. The letters around the side were initially j ust gobbledygook to Arthur, but they changed as he looked at them, to spell out Sir Thursday, Defender of the House. The other side showed the top thi rd of a big old-fas.h.i.+oned sword, with a serpent wound around the hilt. Or p erhaps the serpent was the hilt Arthur couldn't be sure. The words around this side also s.h.i.+mmered and changed, to become One s.h.i.+lling.
"It's just a coin," said Arthur. He looked around at everyone. They were all st aring at him, and they all looked disturbed. "Isn't it?"
"It's Sir Thursday's s.h.i.+lling," Dame Primus explained. "You've been tricked into taking it. One of the very oldest tricks, to make someone accept some thing they don't want, or don't know about."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you've been drafted," said Dame Primus. "Into the Glorious Army o f the Architect. I expect the papers will arrive at any moment."
"Drafted!? Into the army? But how "
"I suppose that technically you have a position within the House," said Da me Primus. "Which allows Sir Thursday to draft you. Every Denizen, at some time, must do their century of military service "
"Century! I can't spend a hundred years in the Army!"
"The question is whether this is an intentional plan on the part of Sir Thursd ay to bring you into his power, or just some accident of the administrative pr ocess. If the latter, you will be quite safe, until we can find out where Part Four of the Will is, and then with its help, we can "
"Safe? I'll be in the Army! What if I get sent into a battle or something? Wha t if Sir Thursday just kills me?!"
Dame Primus shook her head.
"He can't just kill you. Once you've been recruited, he'll have to follow his own regulations. I suppose that he could make things very unpleasant for you . But they do that to the recruits anyway."
"Fantastic. What about the a.s.sa.s.sins that killed Mister Monday and Grim Tu esday? What if they kill me?"
"Hmmm. In fact, this could work to your advantage, Arthur. No a.s.sa.s.sin f rom the Middle or Upper House would dare attack you among your comrades in the Great Maze, and a Denizen from the Incomparable Gardens would be very obvious and give you time to get away or think of something. You wo uld be out of the way, and comparatively safe, while we get on with thin gs."
"I beg your pardon, Dame Primus, but there is one thing Sir Thursday could and probably will do if he knows Arthur is among his recruits," Monday's No on interrupted. "My own service was long ago, but I have not forgotten it. Arthur will probably be safe enough during his first year of training. But after that, he could be posted to the Borderers, or to the Mountain Fort, w here there is always fighting with the Nithlings. As a mortal, he would sta nd in much more danger in battle than any Denizen."
"What if I just don't go?" Arthur asked. It was seeming like the best cho ice. "I mean, come on. There has to be some benefit to being Master of th e Lower House and Duke of the Border Sea and all that. I mean, Sir Thursd ay couldn't draft Mister Monday or Grim Tuesday or Lady Wednesday, could he?"
"Yes, he could," said Monday's Noon. "If they had not already done their ser vice."
"But I refuse to " Arthur began to say. He was interrupted by a loud kno ck on the door. A Commissionaire Sergeant poked his head in and cleared hi s throat.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said to Dame Primus. "Lord Arthur, there's a recruit ing sergeant here. Says he's on official business and he's got the right pa pers. He's not carrying any weapons. What should we do?"
"We have no choice," said Dame Primus. "Sir Thursday has the power to do t his. Delay him for a few minutes, then let him in. Arthur, you had best gi ve me the Third Key now."
"You're just going to hand me over?" asked Arthur.
"We have no choice," Dame Primus repeated. The Agenda flicked over a few p ages and she ticked something with her pen, an action that made Arthur eve n more furious. He couldn't see it, but he knew it had to be an item that said something like "Keep Arthur safe and out of the way."
"I'm keeping the Third Key," he said loudly. "I'll probably need it."
"If you keep it, then you will be giving it to Sir Thursday," said Monday's Noon. "Recruits aren't allowed to have any personal possessions. Everything you need is issued to you."
Arthur stared at Noon. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Everyone wa s just accepting that he was going off for a hundred years of service in th e Army of the House.
"I'm not going," he said. He held up the Third Key like a weapon. Sensing his mood, it grew longer and sharper, till he was holding a trident as long as h e was tall, its tines as long as his forearms. "And anyone who tries to make me is going to suffer."
"Twice," added the voice under the table.
Chapter Five
I'm afraid that won't work, Lord Arthur," said Dame Primus. She was still i rritatingly annotating her agenda and she didn't even look up at Arthur. "T he Keys are only sovereign in their own demesne, though they are of equal p uissance in the Secondary Realms."
"What does that mean?" asked Arthur.
"The Third Key only has its full powers in the Border Sea, the Second in t he Far Reaches, and the First in the Lower House," explained Dr. Scamandro s. "They all work in the Secondary Realms, where they are of equivalent po wer. Except, I believe, for the Seventh Key, which is paramount " "Time is short, Lord Arthur," interrupted Dame Primus. She shut the Agenda with a businesslike clap. "If you are going to relinquish the Third Key to me, it must be done now."
"But I don't want to go into the Army," said Arthur. The anger was leaving h im now and he just felt sad and alone, his only ally still hiding under the table. "Especially not for a hundred years! There must be some way I can get out of it."
"If you can find the Fourth Part of the Will and gain the Fourth Key, then you can take Sir Thursday's place as commander and release yourself," sai d Monday's Noon.
"We will, of course, also continue to search for the Fourth Part of the Will ourselves," said Dame Primus. "Once we find it, we may be able to help you. "
"I'll come with you, Arthur," said Suzy. She crawled out from under the table, sat down in Leaf's chair, and drank what was left of the other girl's orange juice, before adding, "It can't be that bad."
"You shall do no such thing," said Dame Primus. "You have a job to do here , as Monday's Tierce."
"No one ever volunteers for the Army," said Monday's Noon. "Everyone gets d rafted. Besides the Denizens originally made to be soldiers, I mean. I'm no t even sure it's possible to volunteer."
"I reckon if Arthur wants me to go along, then it is my job," said Suzy. "I kind of remember that I might have been in the Army before. I was probably drafted ages ago and did my time, only it's got washed out from between my ears. Maybe it'll come back. I can help Arthur find Part Four of the Will anyway."
"Thanks, Suzy!" exclaimed Arthur. He felt enormously better. Having Suzy a long would make all the difference. "I do want you to come. You always che er me up, not to mention helping me I suppose if I've got to go, I'd bet ter get on with it."
He got up, taking the Third Key, and went over to Dame Primus. She slid out of her chair and bowed to him. When she straightened up, Arthur was struck by just how much taller she was, now that she contained three parts of the Will. She was well over seven feet tall, perhaps even eight feet tall now, and up close he could see tiny words crawling everywhere over her skin and clothes. There were thousands of tiny old-fas.h.i.+oned type letters in consta nt movement, changing color as they moved to become skin or clothes. Every now and then Arthur could just make out a word or a fraction of a phrase, t hings like, "The Will is the Word and the Word is " Looking at her was a bit like examining a banknote, where you could only see all the tiny engrav ed detail that made up the images if you were up close.
"Do you recall the words, Lord Arthur, to appoint me Steward of the Third Key?"
"No," said Arthur. "You start, and I'll say them after you."
"Very well. 'I, Arthur, Duke of the Border Sea, Lord of the Far Reaches, Ma ster of the Lower House, Wielder of the First, Second, and Third Keys to th e Kingdom, do grant my faithful servant, the combined First, Second, and Th ird Parts of the Great Will of the Architect, all my powers '"
Arthur repeated the words mechanically, his mind elsewhere. He was afraid of what the Skinless Boy was going to do, and whether Leaf was just going into danger without any hope of success. He was also afraid of what was go ing to happen to him. After all, he was only a boy. He shouldn't be a recr uit in any army, let alone one full of immortal Denizens who were much tou gher and stronger than he was.
Dame Primus took the trident, and for the first time Arthur realized that t he gloves she was wearing were in fact the gauntlets of the Second Key, tra nsformed to be more ladylike. And the sword made of clock hands that was th e First Key was thrust through her belt, mostly concealed by the outer trai n of her long dress, which flowed around her like a cloak.
"Thank you, Arthur," said Dame Primus. "I had best take the Atlas too."
"I suppose it's not much good to me without a Key," said Arthur. He pulled the small green book out and slowly handed it over. He felt like he was los ing everything that might help him.
"Excellent! I will begin to work on the Border Sea immediately," announced Dame Primus. "We will also spare no effort in trying to find the Fourth Par t of ourself, and will keep you informed of our progress."
"Mail call only happens twice a year at recruit school," said Monday's Noon. "And the recruits are not permitted to telegraph or telephone."
"We will find some means," said Dame Primus. "Now, we had best let the rec ruiting officer in. Good luck, Arthur."
"I still don't like this," said Arthur. "I want you to find out any way I can be released from the Army."
"As you command, Lord Arthur," said Dame Primus. She inclined her head bu t didn't bow, and Arthur once more had the feeling that it would suit the Will to have him trapped in the House for ages, and with the Skinless Bo y taking his place back home he might have nowhere to go after he got ou t of the Army, except to become a Denizen.
"I'll be back," Arthur said fiercely. "As myself, not as a Denizen. If I hav e to find Part Four of the Will myself and get the Fourth Key from Sir Thurs day, I'll do it. And I expect everyone here to help Leaf however they can, p articularly if whenshe gets back with the pocket."
"Ah, Lord Arthur," Dr. Scamandros said nervously, with a sideways glanc e at Dame Primus. "Expect is such a shall we say inexact word "
"Here is the recruiting officer!" interrupted Dame Primus. "Welcome to Mo nday's Dayroom, Lieutenant."
The officer in question stood at attention just inside the door and snapped a salute. To Arthur he looked like someone out of a history book. He wore a scarlet tunic with white lapels and white facings laden with many gold bu ttons. His legs were covered by black trousers with a broad gold stripe dow n each leg, his feet by black boots with spurs, and he was made at least a foot taller by a towering black fur hat with blue and white plumes. He also had a hand-sized crescent of bronze hanging around his neck, which was eng raved with curlicues and numbers.
He looked around the room and saw Dame Primus, clearly the tallest and mo st important Denizen in the room.
"I do beg your pardon, ma'am," said the lieutenant. "Crosshaw is my name, recruiting officer. I have a draft requisition for one Arthur Penhaligon, only I think there must be a mistake, as it gives this Arthur a precedence within the House ofwellsix. I thought perhaps there might be a large nu mber of zeroes missing Perhaps if there is someone among Mister Monday's staff called Arthur Penhaligon, I might test the draft doc.u.ment?"
"There is no mistake," said Dame Primus. She indicated Arthur with a lofty wave of her hand. "The person in question is Lord Arthur Penhaligon, Mast er of the Lower House, Lord of the Far Reaches, Duke of the Border Sea, si xth in precedence within the House. I am Dame Primus, Parts One, Two, and Three of the Will of the Architect."
Crosshaw gulped loudly, opened his mouth, shut it again, then looked at the papers in his hand. He seemed to find strength there, for he looked straight at Arthur and marched over, coming to a heel-stamping stop right in front o f him.
"I do beg your pardon, ah Lord Arthur. Having been at a remote outpost in the Great Maze up until yesterday when I a.s.sumed my new duties, I did not know that there had been changes, um, among the Trustees. The thing is I don't quite know how to put it As far as I know, if your name's on the d raft form, then you've been drafted. I have to give it to you."
The lieutenant held out a large square of parchment, which had a lot of smal l type with Arthur's name written clearly in a s.p.a.ce in the middle.
"What happens if I don't take it?" Arthur asked.
"I'm not entirely sure," said Crosshaw. "If you do take it, I escort you via elevator to the Great Maze, to the Recruit Camp. If you don't take it, I th ink the powers within the draft form take you to the Recruit Camp anyway, by more unpleasant means."
"If I might glance at the doc.u.ment?" asked Dr. Scamandros, who had moved to stand at Arthur's shoulder. He set his crystal-lensed gla.s.ses on his foreh ead, not on his eyes, and peered at the doc.u.ment. "Ah, yes, here we are. Mo st interesting. If you do not go willingly, Arthur, then you will be transf ormed into a shape, generally a small package of brown paper tied up with s tring, able to pa.s.s through the House's postal system which, given the pro blems still current in the Lower House, would not be an ah efficient mean s of travel."
"Okay, I'll take it," said Arthur. He reached out and took the paper, then cri ed out in horror as it wrapped itself around his hand and started to shrug its elf up his arm like a horrid slug consuming his flesh though it didn't hurt.
"Don't be alarmed!" cried Crosshaw. "It's just turning into a recruit uniform!
Arthur looked away and tried to relax. The paper continued to move over hi m, rustling and billowing. When he looked down, his clothes had been trans formed into a simple blue tunic with black b.u.t.tons, blue breeches, and sho rt black boots. A white canvas belt with a bra.s.s buckle carried a white am munition pouch and an empty bayonet loop (known as a frog) on his hip.
But the draft notice wasn't entirely finished. Arthur flinched as he felt it come out from under his tunic and swarm up the back of his neck. It climbed o nto his head and transformed itself into a blue pillbox hat, with a tight and uncomfortable chinstrap that buckled on under Arthur's lip instead of under his chin.
"Very good, Recruit," said Crosshaw. He was no longer nervous, and Arthur felt immediately smaller and more insignificant. "Follow me."
The lieutenant saluted Dame Primus, then spun on his heel and took a step t owards the door.
"Hang on!" said Suzy. "I'm coming too!"
Crosshaw turned in surprise. "I beg your pardon!"
"I'm volunteering," said Suzy. "I want to go along with Arthur."
"We don't take volunteers," said Crosshaw. "Never know who we might get. "
"But I think I might have served before I'm probably in some kind of Res erve."
"We're not calling up reservists either," Crosshaw sniffed. "Particularly P iper's children who've had everything they ever knew washed out from betwee n their ears."
"I've got a piece of paper somewhere," said Suzy as she rummaged through her pockets.
"I can't help you, miss," Crosshaw dismissed her with finality. "Come along, Recruit Penhaligon. Hold yourself a bit straighter. What's that on your leg ?"
"Crab-armor," said Arthur. Unlike the rest of his clothes, the crab-armor ha d remained, his new blue breeches forming under it. "For a broken leg."
"As prescribed by me," said Dr. Scamandros. "Dr. Scamandros, at your servi ce. Major Scamandros, Army Sorcerer, retired. I did my draft service about three thousand years ago, before going on to advanced study in the Upper House."
"Very good, sir," said Crosshaw, with another snappy salute. "If it's a presc ribed medical necessity, it can remain."
"Lord Arthur is a mortal," added Scamandros. He got out a small notepad and hastily scrawled something on it with a peac.o.c.k-feather quill that dripped silver ink. "He needs the crab-armor and the ring on his finger for medica l reasons. He should be given special consideration."
Crosshaw took the proffered note, folded it, and tucked it under his cuff.
"I'm still coming along," said Suzy.
"No room for you in our elevator," snapped Crosshaw. "I suppose there's noth ing to stop you from pet.i.tioning Sir Thursday to re-enlist, if you actually are a reservist. Not something I'd do. But there's nothing to stop you. Come along, Recruit Penhaligon. By the left, quick march!"
Crosshaw led off with his left foot, boot heels cras.h.i.+ng on the marble floor as he marched towards the door. Arthur followed, doing his best to imitate th e lieutenant's marching style and keep in step.
He suddenly felt incredibly alone, abandoned by everyone and extremely unc ertain about what the future held.
Was he really going to disappear into the Army for a hundred years?