Drowned Wednesday(71)

‘Speaking of salvage slaves, I think that might be one there,’ said Longtayle. He pointed at a dim shape in the globe. ‘Not moving, though . . .’

Arthur leaned forward to get a better look. There was a human-shaped figure standing still on the stomach floor. As the submersible edged closer and its lights shone through the murky water, the figure became clearer. It was humanoid, rather than human. About seven feet tall, it had a human face with a beard and long hair, but its muscular bare arms glittered with green scales, and there was webbing between its fingers.

‘A Nisser,’ said Longtayle. ‘But petrified or frozen.’

‘What’s a Nisser?’ asked Arthur. The creature had been stilled in the act of reaching out for something, his webbed fingers ready to grab. He looked angry, his mouth open, showing many small sharp teeth.

‘Drowned Wednesday’s guards,’ said Longtayle. ‘Like the Commissionaires in the Lower House, or the Winged Servants of the Night in the Middle House. She ate them up.’

‘This one made it through,’ said Suzy. ‘Do you reckon we can wake him up, Doc?’

Scamandros put his quartz-lensed glasses on his forehead and peered at the globe. Then he shook his head.

‘He is tightly wound with a very sophisticated binding. I could unpick it, but not easily, and not underwater.’

‘Feverfew, I guess,’ said Arthur. ‘Hey! There’s another one, closer in.’

‘Port ten and slow ahead,’ instructed Longtayle.

The submersible gently turned and progressed closer to the rainbow-hued dome. Its light spread through the water now, dimming the white beams from the submersible’s front. In this ripple of colours, there was a dark silhouette. Another Nisser, this time frozen in the instant she had raised a trident for a killing thrust.

‘And another two,’ said Suzy. ‘Over there, right near the dome.’

She pointed at two tiny dark specks on the very edge of the snout-eye view. But when the Balaena drew closer, the two figures were not Nisser. They were Denizens, or rather the skeletons of long-drowned Denizens, dressed in rags and manacled at the ankles, a long, algae-covered chain stretching between them. Both clutched long rakes, the metal heads blooming with rusty flakes and curls.

Arthur was both horrified and fascinated to see that the Denizen’s bones were, as far as he could tell in the rainbow light, a dull golden colour.

‘Interesting,’ said Scamandros. ‘Denizens don’t usually decompose. I suppose this water must have stomach acids in it, like a mortal creature. Or it may be the result of Nothing contamination. I presume this pair must be enslaved flotsam rakers.’

Longtayle’s tail twitched. Arthur saw him look around the bridge, as if he might see signs of the corrosive sea already affecting the submersible.

‘That brings up an important matter,’ said Longtayle. ‘We must presume that the waters of this stomach are dangerous to the Balaena, so we cannot linger. I’m afraid we can only give you twelve hours, Lord Arthur. After that, we must attempt to leave the Leviathan.’

‘Is that twelve hours from when we find the way in?’ asked Suzy.

‘Twelve hours from now,’ said Longtayle.

Arthur nodded. He was still staring into the globe. There was something about the rainbow-hued wall just beyond the two skeletons. If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see something that might be an arched doorway. But when he looked straight on, all he could see were swirls of colour, shifting and changing like oil in a puddle on the road.

‘Can anyone else see a door?’ he asked. ‘An archway, about eight feet high, just behind the left-hand skeleton?’

‘Nope,’ said Suzy.

‘No,’ said Longtayle.

Doctor Scamandros put his glasses on his forehead and looked closely where Arthur was pointing.

‘Mmmm, an archway. . . yes. . . yes, there is a two-way membrane through the Immaterial Wall. Very cleverly concealed. How did you spot it, Arthur?’

‘I was just looking,’ replied the boy. ‘But I can only see it out of the corner of my eye.’

‘A useful talent,’ said Doctor Scamandros. ‘Particularly for you, Lord Arthur. I should make a habit of looking out of the corner of your eye. You never know what might be there, unseen.’

‘If there is a doorway there,’ said Longtayle, ‘we’d best drop you off, Lord Arthur, and find somewhere to hide the Balaena.’

‘How will you know when to come and get us?’ asked Arthur.

Longtayle reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. Opening it, he showed Arthur a tiny green bottle packed in cotton wool.