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  ‘There’s nothing left of ’im,’ said Suzy with satisfaction, turning over the vapourised Newnith’s smoking boots with the point of her sword.

  ‘I didn’t mean to do it,’ said Arthur sadly. ‘It was the Key.’

  ‘We’d best get ready.’ Suzy tugged on the table, to drag it to the door, but it was bolted to the deck and she only succeeded in staggering into Scamandros when she lost her grip. Still unsteady, both of them went backwards into one of the well-upholstered chairs. Suzy was up again in a moment, while Scamandros struggled like a beetle thrown upon its back.

  ‘Won’t just be one Newnith on board,’ Suzy warned. ‘They’ll be charging in any moment.’

  ‘They might not have heard,’ said Arthur. It was noisy, the constant rhythmic thud of the ship’s steam engine mixed with the groan and creak of the rigging above, as well as the regular crash and jolt as the ship plunged through what had to be fairly sizable waves.

  ‘They heard orright,’ said Suzy. She spat on her hands and gripped her sword more tightly. ‘I expect your Key can burn up a passel of ’em, though.’

  ‘I don’t want to burn them up,’ Arthur protested. ‘I just want to talk to the Raised Rats!’

  ‘We are very glad to hear that,’ said a voice from under the table.

  Suzy swore and ducked down to have a look.

  ‘A trapdoor,’ she exclaimed in admiration. ‘Sneaky!’

  A four-foot-tall rat clad in white breeches and a blue coat with a single gold epaulette on his left shoulder clambered out from under the table and saluted Arthur, his long mouth open in a smile that revealed two shiny gold-capped front teeth. He had a cutlass at his side, but it was sheathed. A Napoleonic hat perched at a jaunty angle on his head.

  ‘Lord Arthur, I presume? I am Lieutenant Goldbite, recently appointed to command this vessel following Captain Longtayle’s promotion and transfer. I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you before, but I am acquainted with your past dealings with us. Perhaps you and your companions would like to sit?’

  He gestured at the armchairs.

  ‘Do we have a truce?’ asked Arthur, still standing. ‘And do you speak for all aboard?’

  ‘I am the captain,’ said Goldbite. ‘I say truce for all of us, Newniths and Raised Rats.’

  ‘The Piper’s not ’ere, is he?’ asked Suzy. She hadn’t sat down either, though Scamandros had settled back down only moments after finally managing to get up.

  ‘The Piper is not aboard this ship,’ said Goldbite. ‘And though we owe him a considerable debt and so will carry his troops and so forth, the Raised Rats have chosen to be noncombatants in the Piper’s wars, and should not be considered in the same light as the Newniths. Speaking of them, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down, I shall just pop out and stand down both my own folk and the Newniths.’

  ‘I’m sorry about the one . . . the one I killed,’ said Arthur. He was very aware that the Newniths, though they felt obliged to serve the Piper, actually just wanted to be farmers. Arthur felt they were much more like humans than Denizens. ‘He attacked me, and the Key . . .’

  Goldbite nodded. ‘I will tell them. He was not the first, nor will he be the last. But I trust there will be no more fighting between us on the Rattus Navis IV. Please do help yourself to biscuits from that tin there, and there is more cranberry juice in the keg.’

  ‘Might as well,’ said Arthur as the Raised Rat left via the door. He picked up the silver jug and refilled it from the keg, while Suzy got out the biscuits, tapping them on the table to make the weevils fall out. She offered them around, but Arthur and Scamandros passed, the latter taking a slightly crushed ham and watercress sandwich on a red chequered china plate out of one of his inner pockets.

  ‘I’m curious to know why there are Newniths on board,’ said Arthur quietly. ‘I hope the Piper isn’t going to attack us here in the Border Sea.’

  ‘Port Wednesday is well defended,’ said Dr Scamandros. ‘The Triangle would be more at risk, if none of the regular vessels are there to protect it. But there would be little to gain from taking that, since it has no elevators or anything very useful. But of course the Rats could be taking the Newniths elsewhere by way of the Border Sea, out into the Secondary Realms—’

  ‘Ssshhh,’ Arthur hushed. ‘Goldbite’s coming back.’

  Goldbite knocked and then poked his long nose around the door.

  ‘All settled in?’ he asked before coming in. ‘Very good. I’m afraid my First Lieutenant can’t join us, as she has the watch, but my Acting Third Lieutenant will do so. I believe you have already met.’

  The Raised Rat behind Goldbite stepped out and saluted. Though his whiskers had been trimmed and he wore a blue coat, Arthur recognised him immediately.

  ‘Watkingle! You’ve been promoted!’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Watkingle. ‘And it was for hitting you on the head, sir, and averting a disastrosphe or cataster, whichever you like. That was a good hit for me, if you don’t mind me saying so, sir.’

  ‘I don’t mind – it was needed at the time.’ Arthur got up and shook Watkingle’s paw. ‘Feverfew would have had me, otherwise.’

  ‘You’re looking . . . uh . . . well, sir,’ said Watkingle. ‘Taller.’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Arthur, not very happily. He sat back down. Watkingle lounged back against the hull, bracing his paws so that he was not thrown off balance by the pitch and roll of the ship.

  ‘I take it you have come to ask your third question?’ said Goldbite, after the ensuing silence started to feel uncomfortable.

  ‘Well, both a question and a request for aid,’ Arthur replied. ‘I hear that Superior Saturday has completely cut off the Upper House, and that there is no way to get there. But I bet you Rats know a way. In fact, I know you must, because a Raised Rat managed to get out with a piece of paper. I want to find out what that way is, and I want you to help me get there.’

  ‘And me!’ added Suzy.

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Goldbite. ‘I shall have to send a message to Commodore Monckton—’

  Arthur shook his head.

  ‘There’s no time. I presume you know that the Nothing defences in the Far Reaches were sabotaged and the dam wall was destroyed. The Lower House has also been destroyed. I have to stop Saturday before she manages to destroy the entire House.’

  Goldbite wrinkled his nose in agitation.

  ‘We had news of a disaster, but did not know it was so extreme,’ he said. ‘But to answer your question, I must reveal secrets. I’ve not been in command of this vessel long, nor am I very senior . . .’

  ‘I have already ordered the Raised Rats to be left alone unless they act against my forces,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m happy to do anything I can for you, and to answer any number of questions, if you can tell me how to get into the Upper House.’ He paused and then corrected, ‘How to get into the Upper House without being noticed, that is.’

  ‘As you have guessed, Lord Arthur, there is a way,’ said Goldbite slowly. He looked at Watkingle, who shrugged. ‘All things considered, I believe I must assist you. But you must agree to a price to be set by Commodore Monckton and those Rats senior to me, in addition to the answer you already owe us.’

  ‘That’s a pig in a poke,’ said Suzy. ‘You Rats really take the biscuit.’

  ‘Why, thank you,’ said Watkingle. He leaned forward and took a biscuit.

  ‘That’s not what I meant!’ protested Suzy. ‘Why should Arthur agree to—’

  ‘It’s okay, Suzy,’ said Arthur. ‘I do agree.’

  If I don’t agree, it soon won’t matter, he figured. And a small voice inside him, a deep and nasty part of his mind, added, Besides, I can go back on my word. They’re only Rats . . .

  ‘I must also ask you to keep this secret, Lord Arthur,’ continued Goldbite. ‘All of you must keep it secret.’

  Arthur nodded, as did Suzy, though he had a suspicion she’d crossed her fingers behind her back.

  ‘Always happy to keep a secret,’ said Scama
ndros. ‘Got hundreds of them already, locked up here.’

  The sorcerer tapped his forehead, and a tattoo of a keyhole appeared there, a key went in and turned, and then both transformed into a spray of question marks that danced over his temples to his ears.

  ‘Very well,’ said Goldbite. ‘Lord Arthur, you know about our Simultaneous Bottles, how something put in one bottle of a matched pair will appear in the other bottle?’

  ‘Yes. For messages and so on. But Monckton told me they only work in the Border Sea!’

  ‘That is true for most of them. But we do have a small number of very special Simultaneous Bottles, or, to be accurate, Simultaneous Nebuchadnezzars that not only work outside the Border Sea—’

  ‘What’s a Nebuchadnezzar?’ asked Suzy.

  ‘Size of bottle,’ said Scamandros. Eight bottles of increasing size appeared on his left cheek and spread across to his right cheek. The smallest was about half an inch high, the largest began at his chin and went to the top of his ear. ‘Big one. There’s your ordinary bottle. Then comes a Magnum – that’s two bottles’ worth. Then a Jeroboam – that holds the same as four of the regular size. And so forth: Rehoboam, six bottles; Methuselah, eight; Salmanazar, twelve; Balthazar, sixteen; Nebuchadnezzar, twenty!’

  He started to rummage inside his coat and added, ‘Got a Jeroboam of quite a nice little sparkling wine here somewhere, a gift from poor old Captain Catapillow—’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ broke in Goldbite. ‘The Simultaneous Nebuchadnezzars are very large bottles that we have twinned in various locations about the House, including one in the Upper House. Their size is important because they are large enough to allow the transfer of one of us. But not, I hasten to say, someone of your stature Lord Arthur.’

  ‘I thought it might be something like that,’ said Arthur. ‘That’s where you come in, Doctor Scamandros. I want you to turn me into a Raised Rat. Temporarily, that is.’

  ‘And me,’ said Suzy.

  ‘It is not an easy thing to do,’ Dr Scamandros warned. ‘It is true I once created illusions for you, to give you the appearance of rats. Actually reshaping you, even for a limited time – I don’t know. You could do it yourself with the Key, Arthur.’

  Arthur nodded. ‘I probably could. But I would be worried about turning back again. But if you do it, it will wear off, won’t it?’

  ‘I should expect so,’ said Scamandros. ‘But I cannot be sure how any spell will affect you, Lord Arthur. It is possible the Key might perceive such a spell as an attack, and do the same thing to me that it did to that Newnith.’

  ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t if I was concentrating on wanting to turn into a Raised Rat,’ said Arthur. ‘Anyway, let’s give it a try.’

  Goldbite coughed and raised a paw.

  ‘The Simultaneous Nebuchadnezzar that is twinned with the one we have secreted in the Upper House is not aboard this vessel. Should you wish to try it, upon the terms I have outlined, we must rendezvous with the Rattus Navis II. If I send a message and she steams towards us, and we to her, it should only be a matter of half an hour. We have been travelling in convoy.’

  ‘Convoy?’ asked Arthur. ‘With loads of Newniths aboard? I hope you’re not planning to attack Port Wednesday after all?’

  ‘I do not know the ultimate destination of the Newnith force,’ answered Goldbite. ‘But I can tell you that we took them aboard in the Secondary Realms, and so I expect we shall disembark them in another.’

  ‘Okay, good,’ said Arthur. ‘I think. What can they be up to? I wish the Piper would just stay out of everything. I suppose I could ask one of the Newniths—’

  ‘Please!’ interrupted Goldbite. ‘As I said, the Raised Rats seek to be noncombatants. At present the Newniths have agreed to the polite fiction that one of their number was lost in an accident at sea. They will not come below to seek you out, but should you make yourself known, then they will feel compelled to fight. I expect you would win, Lord Arthur, but your companions could be killed, and certainly many Newniths would die. Please stay here, drink cranberry juice, and when we have made our rendezvous, we will transfer you to the other ship as quickly and quietly as is possible.’

  ‘All right.’ Once again Arthur had to fight back the urge to stride out upon the deck and order the Newniths to bow before him. And if they would not, then he would blast them to cinders and let wind and wave blow them away . . .

  No, thought Arthur. Stop! I will do this my way. No matter what I look like on the outside, I am not going to change who I truly am. I am human and I know how to love, and be kind, and be compassionate to those who are weaker than me. Just because I have power doesn’t mean I have to use it!

  ‘I am going to need some things,’ announced Dr Scamandros, who was rummaging in his pockets. ‘Hmm . . . freshly cut Rat hair . . . four paw prints in jelly or plaster or sand, at a pinch . . . grey or brown paint, a bigger brush than this one . . . I think I have everything else.’

  ‘Watkingle can organise those items for you,’ said Goldbite.

  ‘Whose fresh-cut Rat hair, sir?’ asked Watkingle. ‘I ain’t due for a haircut—’

  ‘Someone will need one,’ said Goldbite. ‘See to it at once.’

  ‘Aye, aye,’ grumbled Watkingle. He left the cabin, mumbling to himself, ‘Hair, plaster, grey or brown paint . . .’

  ‘Let me see,’ continued Dr Scamandros. He set a green crystal bottle stoppered with a lead seal on the table. ‘The large bottle of activated ink . . . might be best to read up a little. There’s that piece in Xamanader’s Xenographical Xactions . . . sure I had a copy somewhere . . .’

  ‘Where is the other Nebuchadnezzar? The one in the Upper House?’ asked Arthur, though as always he was fascinated by the amount and size of the stuff Scamandros could keep in his coat. ‘And are there Rats who might be able to help me there?’

  ‘I don’t know much,’ replied Goldbite. ‘I believe it is in the very lowest levels of the Upper House, by the steam engines that drive the chains. We do have some agents in place. And, of course, the Piper’s children there who help us would probably assist you too.’

  ‘Piper’s children?’ asked Suzy. ‘I never knew there was a bunch of us lot in the Upper House.’

  At the same time, Arthur asked, ‘Steam engines? Chains?’

  Goldbite explained what little he could, with Scamandros interrupting a little, in between cataloguing items he needed and re-sorting strange things that had come out of his coat. As it happened, the sorcerer could add little to Goldbite’s explanations. Scamandros had been expelled from the Upper House several thousand years previously, and back then Superior Saturday had still used more conventional means to build her tower, and there had been other buildings too, not just one enormous, sprawling construction of iron cubes.

  ‘It sounds like some sort of giant toy construction set,’ said Arthur. ‘And all the cubes get moved along rails by steam-driven chains?’

  ‘So I am told,’ said Goldbite.

  ‘Reckon that’ll be worth looking at,’ said Suzy happily. ‘Nothin’ like a nice cloud of honest steam and a bit of sooty coal smoke to invigilate the lungs.’

  ‘Vigorate,’ said Scamandros absently. ‘In-vig-o-rate. The other’s to do with exams and looking into matters. Cause of my downfall.’

  ‘I’m sure it will look interesting enough,’ said Arthur. ‘But we have to remember it’s the fortress of our enemy. If you do come, Suzy, you have to stay out of sight and be sneaky. I don’t want to have to fight thousands of sorcerers. Or Saturday, for that matter – not in her own demesne with the Sixth Key. We’ll just go in, find Part Six of the Will, get it, and get out. Get it?’

  ‘Got it,’ said Suzy.

  ‘Good,’ said Arthur. At that moment, a fleeting memory of his father, Bob, flashed through his head, of him watching one of his favourite Danny Kaye films and laughing fit to burst. But then it was gone, and Arthur couldn’t think why it had come to mind. He wished he could have held on to it longer. His father, and his
family, felt so distant. Even a brief memory of them made him feel not so much alone.

  EIGHT

  THEY WERE TAKEN in a ship’s boat from the Rattus Navis IV to the Rattus Navis II. Rowed by eight salty Rats with blue ribbons trailing from their straw hats who kept in time to Watkingle’s hoarse roars of ‘Pull, Pull,’ the boat made a quick passage across the few hundred yards of open sea that separated the ships.

  Arthur sat with his back against the bow, looking at the Rattus Navis IV and the ranks of Newniths on the deck. They were all facing the other way, studiously ignoring the departure of their brief fellow passenger. He was thinking about them, and where they might be going, and also thinking about where he was going, when a great spray of cold seawater splashed across his shoulders. He turned around just in time to cop the last of it in his open mouth, and saw that they were plunging down the face of a wave, having just cut through the crest of it, in the process taking on perhaps a third of a bucket of water. It would have been much more, save for Watkingle’s skill in steering the boat.

  In that small amount of water, which had mostly fallen over Arthur, there was something else, which now lay wet and sodden in his lap. It was a fluffy yellow elephant – his toy elephant, which he’d already found once in the Border Sea, home of lost things, only to lose it again somewhere between the Sea and the Great Maze.

  ‘Elephant,’ he said dumbly, and clutched it to his chest, as tightly as he’d ever held it as a small child. Then he remembered who and where he was, and slowly lowered the toy back into his lap.