Drowned Wednesday(31)

‘A trigon on my work-square,’ he said, taking out a quill pen and a small bronze bottle labelled ACTIVATED INK. BEWARE! ‘Arthur, please place your hand flat above the trigon, not quite touching.’

He indicated the three objects. Arthur complied, holding his hand level just above the mirror, conch and pillbox.

‘Now I shall have to write on your hand. It may sting,’ said Doctor Scamandros, in the tone doctors and dentists use when something is going to hurt. He set the bronze bottle down, carefully unscrewed the lid, and dipped his feathery pen.

‘This is going to help me find out what happened to Leaf?’ asked Arthur. He had a strong urge to pull back his hand and run down the beach, back to the camp.

Sunscorch did nod okay, thought Arthur. So Scamandros must be mostly trustworthy …

‘Yes, yes,’ said Scamandros. ‘Hold still.’

Arthur held still. Scamandros poised the pen above the back of the boy’s hand. A tiny drop of ink fell from the pen and splashed on Arthur’s skin like molten metal, sending up a small plume of Nothing-laced smoke.

‘Aahhhhh!’ screamed Arthur as intense pain shot through him.





Eleven




DOCTOR SCAMANDROS didn’t pause. With incredible speed, he wrote a word on Arthur’s hand even as the boy snatched it away, the ink leaving a trail of fire across his skin.

‘It will only hurt for a moment,’ Scamandros promised, as Arthur rushed to the sea and thrust his hand in. ‘If I’d warned you, you wouldn’t have kept still.’

Arthur couldn’t speak. The pain occupied his entire mind — but only for a few more seconds. Before Doctor Scamandros had finished speaking, the pain ebbed and was gone, as if it had been washed out with the last wave.

Arthur walked the few yards back up the beach. Scamandros had already packed away the board and the pillbox, leaving only the shell and the mirror. He held these out to Arthur, who didn’t notice, as he was holding the back of his hand to the candlelight. As far as the boy could tell, there weren’t any scars or ink stains. He couldn’t see any writing either.

‘What did you write?’ asked Arthur.

‘My signature,’ said Doctor Scamandros. ‘Most House Sorcery is done with prepared apparatus that will only work for the authorised sorcerer.’

‘Was there Nothing in that ink?’

‘Yes. A very small, refined amount. Not made by me, I hasten to add. I do not work directly with raw Nothing. Though it is true most House Sorcery depends upon apparatus or consumables originally created from or with Nothing.’

‘Right,’ said Arthur. He took the mirror and the shell suspiciously. ‘What do these do, then?’

‘I have, I hope, attuned the mirror to show the current situation of your friend Leaf,’ said Scamandros. ‘And the conch so you may listen as well. It should work for some days, before the spell degrades and begins to show other persons or places. I should not use it once that occurs, as it may well show you to those who look for such open passages into the mind.’

‘How do I make it work?’

‘Merely hold the shell to your ear and gaze into the mirror. It will work best somewhere quiet, with a little but not too much light shining into the mirror. Here, with the candle, would be ideal. It is generally best to have someone watching over you, as you will not be aware of what is happening around your corporeal form.’

‘Thanks,’ said Arthur. ‘I think I’ll try this a bit later. Closer to the camp.’

‘As you wish. Now, as to messages, I’m afraid that neither telephone nor telegraph will work for us. Though we are not in the Border Sea, we are of it, and any connection would thus normally go through there and the exchange has been long flooded. However, I can send a message by slower means. Have you paper, pen, and ink?’

‘No.’

‘Here you are, then.’ Scamandros handed Arthur a cracked leather case tied closed with a blue ribbon. ‘Write a letter while I prepare the messenger.’

Arthur opened the case. It was like a pop-up book, with an inkwell, a pile of paper, and several pens rising up as he opened it. Arthur selected a pen, dipped it in the ink, which he noticed was turquoise blue, and wrote.

Dame Primus



Monday’s Dayroom or Tuesday’s Pyramid



Dear Dame Primus,



Lady Wednesday invited me to luncheon and sent a ship for me, but due to an accident I am now in another Secondary Realm with a different, wrecked ship, called the Moth. A House Sorcerer called Dr. Skamandross is sending this letter for me. I think I might try to find the Third Part of the Will, since I’m here. If you can send help or advice that would be good. Also my friend Leaf got picked up by accident and I think is on a ship called the Flying Mantis. If you can help her get back home that would also be good.