‘Both my person and my bowl were smaller then,’ said the Carp. ‘As my following has grown, so I have grown, reflecting the worship of my Followers.’
‘So you can shrink yourself and the bowl?’ asked Arthur.
‘I could,’ admitted the Carp. ‘But it would not befit my station to appear less than I am.’
‘Shrink,’ commanded Arthur. ‘I haven’t got time to argue about it. Get as small and light as you can.’
‘That is no way to speak to the Carp!’ protested someone back up a terrace or two.
‘Arthur is the Rightful Heir,’ said the Carp. ‘It is my duty to obey his orders, however given. I shall dwindle to a transportable size.’
‘First time I’ve seen a part of the Will with a sensible attitude,’ muttered Suzy.
‘We still have to get back to the water gate,’ said Arthur. He took the small case and checked the green bottle inside. It was intact, he was pleased to see. So the Balaena had not encountered trouble. Or not yet. ‘There’s those four pirates to get past too.’
‘May I have my Followers sing as I shrink?’ asked the Carp.
‘Sure, whatever. They can dance too, if they like,’ said Arthur. ‘But please hurry.’
‘Song of Faith Number Eighty-One,’ instructed the Carp. ‘I shall diminish myself and my bowl as the song progresses, and at the end shall be positively minute.’
‘How long is the song?’ asked Suzy.
‘A mere hundred verses and the chorus repeated as often,’ said the Carp. ‘I shall set the key.’
‘No,’ said Arthur. He was feeling really agitated and tense, as if every second lost was vital. ‘You’ve got two minutes. Please just shrink. We’ll also need some help to fight the gate guards, so maybe, Jebenezer, you can pick a dozen —’ The boy stopped in midsentence as he thought that through. The Denizens who came to fight the guards at the water gate would never be able to get back to the hills. They’d have to go with Arthur to the Balaena.
‘No, say just four of your very best archers to come with. . . to help us get past the gate.’
Arthur turned to look at all the luminous green Denizens sitting on the terraces, and raised his voice.
‘And I do promise that if I make it back out and get the Third Key, I will return! I will make sure you are all brought out to the House, even if I have to use the Improbable Stair to get here.’
This speech did not evoke wild cheering, but the Denizens appeared slightly happier. Arthur sighed and twisted around to look at the Carp, and was taken aback. There was no longer any huge fishbowl with a giant carp in it. There was only Suzy and Jebenezer.
‘What?’
Jebenezer held up something that looked like a jam jar full of water, with a two-inch goldfish whizzing around and around in it.
‘Small enough?’ asked the Carp. Its voice was still as loud, and omnidirectional.
‘Thank you,’ said Arthur. It was a heartfelt expression of gratitude. ‘Jebenezer, can you carry the Will . . . I mean the Carp. . . and lead us out of here? And can you get those four archers?’
‘I can,’ said Jebenezer. ‘But. . . but what is to happen to us when you leave with the Carp? It is only the Carp’s powers that make this cavern safe from Feverfew. Once the pirate knows the Carp is gone, he will attack, and his sorcery will invade our home.’
Why is nothing straightforward? thought Arthur. It’s bad enough that I can’t go and rescue Leaf and the crews from the Moth and the Mantis. Now I have to worry about all these Denizens as well. I bet heroes who had only to beat up on dragons or monsters never had to worry about whole populations and their friends, not to mention what might happen to their family back home …
‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ said Arthur. ‘Perhaps you should split up and hide all over the hills.’
‘You must have faith,’ intoned the Carp.
‘We must have faith,’ echoed back the Followers.
‘I reckon splitting up and hiding might come in handy as well,’ said Suzy. ‘I mean, faith is fine and everything, but you got to be practical.’
The Carp stopped circling and peered at Suzy for a moment.
‘If you have faith, all will be well,’ said the Carp. ‘But to sharpen your faith, my Followers, I shall test it. When I have left, so must you disperse among the hills, in groups of no more than three, and meditate quietly. No singing, and no loud praising of me. If you are true to your faith, Lord Arthur will return and save you. If not, doubtless Feverfew will capture you and end your doubting existences in the Hot Lake.’