Arthur forced himself to be calm, to try to think, not just panic. But the panic was bubbling up inside him. He wanted to just shut his eyes and fade out until someone else took care of everything. But someone else wasn’t going to take care of him, or his mother, or anything …
He took two breaths that were not as deep as he wanted them to be, though it was shock and fear affecting his lungs, not his usual asthma. He didn’t suffer from asthma in the House.
‘Find out where Mum is … where they all are,’ he ordered Sneezer. ‘Get Dr Scamandros on it. Get anyone who can help to … to help. Oh – what about Leaf? Is she okay?’
‘I believe Miss Leaf is one of the abducted mortals,’ said Sneezer carefully. His voice was very faint now, as if the telephone was a long way from his mouth. ‘One of the main group of abductees, that is to say. Though in her case she might have chosen to go along. I couldn’t get a clear view of the proceedings; there was an opacity resulting from some opposing power. However, it appeared—’
‘Get off!’ said the operator suddenly, over the top of Sneezer’s voice. ‘No, I’m not coming down the line … Get off! Stop it! Ah! Help! It’s got my foot – pull me back, lads! Heave!’
A whole host of voices joined in then, shouting and screaming, and whatever Sneezer was saying was lost. Then there was a deafening howl, as if someone had trod on the tail of an extremely large and unfriendly wolf, and the handset crumbled into dust in Arthur’s hands, leaving him holding a single wire that let out a small and pathetic spark before he hastily dropped it.
‘We have to find my mum,’ said Arthur.
‘Your destiny does not include a mortal family,’ Dame Primus declared. ‘As I have said before, you should shake off those minor shackles. As I understand it, your parents are not blood relations, in any case.’
‘They’re my parents,’ Arthur protested. He had long since got used to being adopted, but there was still some sting in the Will’s words. ‘Emily and Bob love me, and I love them. I love all my family.’
‘That is a mortal invention,’ said Dame Primus. ‘It is of no use in the House.’
‘What?’ asked Arthur.
‘Love,’ Dame Primus answered, her lips twisted in distaste. ‘Now, Lord Arthur, I really must insist that we attend to at least the most significant items of the agenda. I have reordered it as you requested.’
‘I requested?’ Arthur’s voice was vacant, since he was still in shock. He’d tried so hard to protect his family. Everything he’d done had been to keep them out of things. But it hadn’t worked. Superior Saturday had threatened to use the Skinless Boy to take his place, to erase their minds so they forgot the real Arthur. Since that hadn’t worked, maybe now Friday or Saturday had kidnapped his mum … Arthur’s mind raced as he tried to get a grip on the situation.
‘At our meeting in Monday’s Dayroom,’ said Dame Primus. ‘Before you were drafted. Do pay attention, Lord Arthur.’
‘I’m thinking,’ snapped Arthur. ‘Captain Drury, do you have a spare phone? I have to get Sneezer on the line again. And Dr Scamandros.’
‘Arthur, this is not—’
Dame Primus got no further, as two of Arthur’s Legionary guards suddenly grabbed him and pulled him back, and two more jumped in front of him and locked their shields with an almighty crash. The embodiment of the Will leaped back too, and all over the room there was the sudden whine of savage-swords and the acrid, ozone smell of lightning-charged tulwars as everyone drew their weapons.
Arthur couldn’t even see what his guards had reacted to, until he stood on tiptoe and looked over the locked shields to see that someone had appeared only a few feet in front of where he’d been standing.
That someone was a tall, slight female Denizen clad in a very unmilitary flowing robe made of thousands of tiny silver strips that chinked as she moved. Over that beautiful garment she wore a thick leather apron, with several pockets out of which protruded the wooden handles of weapons or perhaps tools. This strange ensemble was completed by the silver branch she held in her right hand, from which a dozen small cylindrical fruits of spun gold hung suspended, tinkling madly as half a dozen Denizens threw themselves upon her.
‘I’m a messenger!’ she shouted. ‘A herald! Not an assassin! Look, I’ve got an olive branch!’
‘Looks more like a lemon branch,’ said the Legionary Decurion as he twisted it out of the Denizen’s grasp. He looked over at Arthur. ‘Sorry, sir! We’ll have her out of here in a moment!’