Lady Friday(42)

‘Um, Friday’s Dawn has refused to accept Saturday’s authority and has ordered all loyal Middle House Denizens to resist. Friday’s Dawn and his Gilded Youths tried to hold Burinberg but have been forced to retreat to the Top Shelf. No one knows where Friday’s Noon and Dusk are, or Lady Friday.

‘Let’s see … the High Guild in the Top Shelf has not declared for either side. The Winged Servants are basically attacking Saturday’s forces wherever they can till morning, since they only fly at night. Can you repeat that last bit?’

Fred watched the repeated signs carefully.

‘Oh, the rafts … lots of them were held up by the fighting at the skylock but now they’re passing through. The Loungers are too busy fighting the Servants and are ignoring the rafts. Did I get all that right, miss?’

The Servant nodded, but her head was craned back, her masked head scanning the sky above, her hand once more on the tube at her belt. It looked to Arthur like a miniature version of the firewash projectors used by the Army of the Architect … which would be a very nasty weapon indeed. He was determined to keep a careful eye on it.

‘Why did you land here?’ Arthur asked now. ‘Why did you think you would be safe? We’re obviously not Paper Pushers.’

Cool of the Evening shook her head and quickly signed a reply, without taking her gaze away from the sky.

‘You smell all right,’ said Fred. ‘Saturday’s Denizens smell of … I don’t know that sign … stone-smoke? Coal, maybe.’

‘The noses of the Servants are keen,’ said Ugham.

Cool of the Evening made another rapid sign.

‘Flyers coming down,’ said Fred.

‘As are their eyes,’ said Ugham. ‘I do not spy any movement.’ ‘Could be Loungers with their wings darked,’ said Fred. ‘What do we do, Arthur? We can’t just leave her—’

‘Of course not!’ Arthur drew the Key, the Servant hissing in surprise and shielding her eyes as the baton transformed into a silver rapier, the metal brighter than could be explained by the mere reflection of light. ‘Prepare to receive boarders!’





Fifteen


WHEN SHE WAS satisfied with both her fake cough and her scratched-up stone, Leaf took an armful of pale blue pillowcases and started around the circle to the nearest stairs. A plan had formed in her head … or at least part of a plan. It had several defects, which she hoped to overcome on the fly, because she couldn’t think of anything else she could do.

The first step was to find the Denizen called Feorin, but without Milka in attendance. Feorin might be stupid enough to fall for Leaf’s intended trick, but she knew there was little chance Milka would go along with it.

Maybe I can find another stupid Denizen, thought Leaf as she trudged up the stairs to Circle Ten and headed around toward the noon position, where the Denizens’ quarters were. As Harrison had predicted, she didn’t meet anyone. The corridor was deserted and looked just like all the other corridors she’d walked inside the crater rim. If it wasn’t for the numbers above the doors and the staircases, she would have sworn she was back where she originally came in.

I suppose I’ll have to knock on a door. Which could lead to trouble …

Uncertain about whether this was a good idea, Leaf walked the top part of the circle, trying to see if there was any clue to be found as to who might be behind the doors. But the only one that was different was the one at the noon position, which was wider and had an ornate pattern around the doorknob. Leaf thought this was probably a good one to avoid and, at random, chose to knock on the door at Six Past Twelve.

It was opened very quickly by a Denizen who was holding a large needle and dangling gold thread in one hand and a book in the other. He looked over Leaf’s head and then, seeing no one, down at her.

‘What is it?’

‘Uh, sorry to disturb you,’ said Leaf. ‘I’ve been sent to give a message to Feorin.’

‘Feorin? Are you sure?’

‘Yes, definitely Feorin.’

‘Try next door,’ said the Denizen, pointing clockwise with the needle. ‘Ten Past.’

‘Thanks,’ said Leaf, the door already shutting in her face. She took a deep breath and walked along to the door at Ten Past, hesitated for a moment, then sharply rapped on it.

The occupants were not so fast this time. Leaf could faintly hear a conversation, then footsteps. Finally the door opened to reveal Feorin, now wearing a leather apron over his sharp suit.

Leaf stepped back so she was out of the line of sight of anyone farther inside, then coughed her odd, barking cough. ‘Hi, Feorin,’ she said. ‘I’ve got something for you.’