Friday raised the glowing rainbow concoction to her mouth, tipped her head back, and drank it down. Most of the brilliant, multicoloured threads went in, but she was a careless drinker and some short fragments fell and splashed on the rock before trickling down to the lake.
As Friday drank, the world returned to its normal state. Leaf heard her heartbeat come back, felt her breath rush in through nose and mouth, saw the purple sunlight wash down through the dome.
Lady Friday flexed her wings and launched into the air. Her cohorts descended to lift the chair by its straps.
‘What did she do?’ asked Leaf, very quietly. The sleepers were lying on the stone. Whether they still lived or not, they were still.
‘She experienced them,’ said Harrison. His tone was flat and hollow as if he too was shocked by what he had seen, though he had seen it many times before. ‘Absorbed their lives, their memories and experience. The best parts, that’s what she wants. To feel how they lived, how they loved, all their excitements, triumphs, and joys.’
‘What happens to the sleepers after … afterward?’
‘They never really wake up,’ whispered Harrison. ‘They used to be returned to Earth. Now, with so many, I don’t know … oh, no! She’s coming over here …’
Harrison bowed his head and knelt down. Leaf stood up and tried to look at the Trustee who was flying towards her, but once again the object in Lady Friday’s hand was shining, and it was too bright. Leaf had to look down and then shield her eyes with her hand as Lady Friday landed in front of her, the rush of air from her wings cool on Leaf’s face.
‘So, you’re the small troublemaker who foiled Saturday’s Cocigrue,’ said Lady Friday. Her voice was soft but very penetrating, and it demanded attention. ‘Leaf, friend of the so-called Rightful Heir, this Arthur Penhaligon. How kind of you to visit.’
Ten
THE WIGHT LOOKED askance at me,’ said Ugham, referring to his brief conversation with Saturday’s Dusk. ‘I hazard he feared some ploy or contrivance, and it is certain he is wary of your power. He has agreed to wait upon you, Lord Arthur, at the appointed half-hour – yet I misdoubt it is an honest answer. More likely he awaits the arrival of more doughty warriors before ordering the assault.’
‘Like more of whatever was making that noise before,’ said Fred with a shudder.
‘I just hope the Fetchers – or something worse – aren’t watching the canal side,’ said Arthur. He pushed the shutters open wide and shivered as the wind blew in, spraying him with wet snow. ‘Wait till I’m down safe, then follow me one at a time.’
‘Hey!’ Suzy protested. ‘I should go first, so when you fall in the canal I can get you out.’
‘Or me,’ said Fred. ‘I should go first. You’re too important.’ ‘I’m going first,’ said Arthur. ‘Remember what Sergeant Helve said about leading. Follow me!’
With that shout, he leaped across the gap between the window and the huge wheel, timing it so he would land on the spoke as it was almost level with the building. But he was a second off, and the ice-sheathed spoke was already tilting down. Arthur landed on it but he immediately started to slide, his fingers clutching frantically at the frozen timber as his legs went over the far side. The canal side.
His fingers slipped, unable to get a hold. Arthur swung his legs as he fell and managed to get his knee back on the spoke. Then with an effort that felt as if he might have wrenched every muscle he possessed, he hurled himself up, slithering across the spoke to the other side just in time to half-roll and half-fall off onto the snowy bank of the canal. Behind him the lower end of the spoke he’d been on entered the water with the crackle of broken ice and a threatening gurgle.
Arthur wanted to lie in the snow, no matter how cold and wet it was, but he knew he couldn’t. He forced himself up and looked around to make sure there was no danger of attack. When he was sure no Fetchers or anything worse were nearby, he looked back up at the turning wheel.
Suzy was already on it, sliding down the descending spoke like a surfer down a wave. She jumped across to the shore with perfect timing, sending a spray of snow over Arthur as she touched down.
‘That was fun!’ she declared. Arthur scowled at her and scraped some snow off himself while he waited for Fred or Ugham to come down next.
It was Fred, who while lacking Suzy’s style nevertheless did a workmanlike job of riding the spoke down on all fours, jumping like a dog at the end to land in a crouch near Suzy and Arthur.
Ugham chose an entirely different method, benefiting from having observed the others. He jumped with a dagger in his hand, thrusting it into the timber to give himself a secure handhold. He used that hold to position himself square in the middle of the spoke, then worked the dagger free, slid down to the wheel’s inner rim, stood up, and stepped off onto the canal side as easily as Arthur might have stepped off an escalator back home.