It hit the raft at a speed that would have killed any mortal, bounced twice, and immediately started to get up. Arthur thought it had to be some kind of Nithling, and his hand was on the Key as he raced over to it, on the heels of Ugham, Fred, and Suzy. Pirkin lagged behind, his head bent and his feet slow.
But it was not a Nithling. As Arthur got nearer, he saw that the creature’s strange beaked head was a helmet with a long, open snout through which a Denizen’s mouth could be vaguely seen. Similarly, what looked like a natural leathery hide was a full bodysuit of black armour, and the taloned, webbed hands were actually taloned, webbed gauntlets of the same black material.
It was impossible to tell if it was a male or female Denizen. It got to its knees as Arthur and the others approached, one wing crushed at its side, the other trailing behind. It tried to stand but couldn’t and fell back into a crouch.
‘Is it … this … a Winged Servant of the Night?’ Arthur whispered to Fred as they slowed to stand in a ring around the crippled flyer, no one sure what to do next.
‘Yes,’ said Fred. He pushed past and kneeled by the strange Denizen, his hands and fingers moving in a series of complicated signs.
The Servant seemed startled, then quickly signed back, too quickly for Fred.
‘Slow down!’ he said and made several emphatic finger movements.
The Servant signed again, with greater deliberation and many more pauses.
‘She … her name is … ah, something like … Cool of the Evening Before Full Dark. She says they are fighting winged Denizens from the Upper House. I think they’re called something like Clever Resters?’
‘Artful Loungers,’ said Ugham. ‘Our lord has made us study all the foe we might face. They are not the most puissant of Saturday’s host.’
The Servant nodded.
‘She can hear?’ asked Arthur.
The Servant nodded again.
‘Sorry,’ Arthur continued. ‘I mean, you can hear, but you don’t speak, right?’
The Servant nodded again.
‘I didn’t know that,’ said Fred. ‘But then, I never did meet a real Servant before.’
‘How come you know the signs, then?’ Suzy asked.
Fred coughed and looked away from the Servant and mumbled something.
‘You what?’ Suzy persisted.
‘Thought I might grow up to be a Winged Servant.’ Fred’s cheeks were red, and not just from the cold. ‘There was a book of signs I did a bit of gilding on … part of a manual for Middle House management. I kept it and learned how to do them.’
‘But Piper’s children don’t grow up,’ said Arthur, puzzled.
‘I know,’ said Fred sadly. ‘It was just … something to pretend. I didn’t want to be a gilding assistant forever. It’s lucky I can still remember most of the signs I learned. It was a long time ago and someone took the book back. I’ve been washed between the ears many times since then.’
Arthur scowled at the mention of the washing between the ears. He wanted to know more about that whole process, and why it was done. It was yet another small mystery of the House that needed sorting out, but had to be put on the backburner.
The Servant tapped Fred on the foot to make him pay attention, and her fingers spelled out a long message.
‘She has to get back into the fight; she wants to know if we have extra wings,’ said Fred. ‘Any wings will do.’
‘We haven’t got any,’ said Arthur. ‘Well, unless Pirkin has some …’
‘Wings is for those who don’t have a canal to ride,’ said Pirkin. ‘The Association expressly forbids wings on the rafts. Why, if it wasn’t for the extenuating circumstances, I’d have to ask Miss Cool of the Evening here to take her leave …’ The Servant hissed and reached for a slim metal tube at her belt.
‘However, given there is extenuations aplenty,’ Pirkin said hurriedly, ‘welcome aboard. I don’t suppose one more non-member will make any difference.’
The Servant nodded and tried to get up once more. Fred and Arthur quickly helped her, but she shrugged them off and managed to keep standing alone. She raised one foot that could not bear her weight, either because it or her leg was broken. She made more signs and Fred translated.
‘Her companions will come for her soon, if they win,’ he said. ‘Or the enemy. She suggests we stand away in case it is the latter. The Artful Loungers will leave us alone, as they have left the other rafts alone.’
‘Other rafts?’ asked Pirkin. ‘Where?’
The Servant pointed up and again signed out a long message.
‘The skylock has been captured by the enemy,’ passed on Fred. ‘It is being held open to allow the Artful Loungers to fly down from Burinberg, which was taken by Saturday’s troops earlier today in a massed elevator assault.