Lady Friday(32)

At the same time, there was an immense crash somewhere back along the wharf, and the pitch of the screeching went still higher, so high that Arthur winced and a set of four recently emptied fine porcelain teacups near the window hummed and vibrated before suddenly exploding.

Just as the cups shattered, there was a very loud splash and the screaming stopped. The sound of falling bits and pieces continued, but it still felt strangely quiet.

‘The creature has fallen through these rotten boards,’ said Ugham, ‘into the canal.’

He stamped his foot in emphasis and the Denizen groaned. Suzy, finding herself in the crook of Ugham’s left arm, tilted her head back with a puzzled look. Fred, under the Newnith’s right arm, had a similar expression.

‘You can put me down, Uggie,’ said Suzy. ‘I s’pose I got ensorcerated into running away.’

‘It was the sound,’ said Fred as Ugham set the two Piper’s children gently on their own feet. He shook his head as if a remnant of the scream was still lodged inside. ‘I had to get away from the sound. What was it anyway?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Arthur. ‘Hopefully it’s drowning. Are you a Paper Pusher?’

This question was addressed to the Denizen who was groaning under Ugham’s foot. He didn’t answer, but continued to moan.

‘I asked if you’re a Paper Pusher,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m Arthur, the Rightful Heir to the Architect, and I need your help.’

Still the Denizen didn’t answer, but he stopped groaning. Then, as Ugham grunted and began to press down harder with his foot, he quickly spoke.

‘I’m not saying one way or another. Maybe I is a Paper Pusher and if I am, why then, I’d be responsible for this here wharf number seventeen, stretch twelve, and I’d be a fully paid-up Branch Secretary of the Noble and Exalted Association of Waterway Motivators, and you’d not be and you’d have no business on the canal.’

‘What’s your name and precedence within the House then, cully?’ asked Suzy.

‘Peter Pirkin, Primary Paper Pusher, First Class, 65 898 756th in … Oh, you’re a sharp one. Got me proper, didn’t you?’

‘Okay, Peter Pirkin Paper Pusher,’ said Arthur. ‘I really am the Rightful Heir to the Architect, and that means the Middle House as well and everything and everyone in it. I need you to help me get up to Lady Friday’s Scriptorium.’

‘Can’t,’ said Pirkin. ‘And won’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’ asked Arthur. ‘We’ll deal with won’t in a minute.’

‘Can’t, because the canal only goes up to the Top Shelf.’

‘Well, you can take us that far at least,’ said Arthur. ‘Now—’

Before he could go on, the floor under his feet suddenly shuddered, and the timbers lifted up several inches before subsiding again. This phenomenon was immediately repeated, this time with a horrible grunting, gargling sound.

‘It didn’t drown,’ said Fred.

‘It’s under us,’ said Suzy.

‘Let me go!’ called out Pirkin. ‘Let me go!’

‘Where?’ asked Arthur. The floor was creaking and splintering all around them.

‘The raft!’

Ugham picked up Pirkin by the collar of his paper-patchwork smock and ran to the window. He looked out and immediately had to dodge a thrown bronze tablet shaped like a large piece of toast.

‘A strange flat vessel does indeed lie a jump away,’ he reported, in between ducking or dodging thrown House records of various media.

‘You have to take us too!’ said Arthur to Pirkin. He jumped aside as several floorboards near him suddenly exploded into splinters. A long, extremely sharp, straight spear – or horn – of pure Nothing contained within a spiral wrap of silver wire thrust through and up at least six feet before it was withdrawn. ‘All of us go, or all of us stay!’

‘We can’t!’ squealed Pirkin. ‘You have to be a member of the association to ride the rafts!’

‘We’ll join!’ shouted Arthur as the Nothing horn smashed through the floor again. This time he saw the head of the beast as well. It was a Nithling, one of the elemental kind made of pure Nothing, in this case contained within an armature or framework of silver wire. It looked like a huge crazy wire sculpture, a mad cross between a unicorn and a wild boar, but with roiling dark matter inside the wire instead of empty space.

It didn’t have any eyes or any visible mouth.

‘You can’t just join—’

‘Throw him on the raft and jump!’ ordered Arthur. He had the Key in his hand now, in its sword form, and as the boar-unicorn smashed through again, he struck at its horn.