‘Let’s not go back,’ he said as they were washing their necks and under their arms. ‘Let’s stay here.’
‘Here?’ squeaked Fred. He was obviously unnerved by the idea. ‘I’m not sure this place even exists after morning ablution time. The weirdway closes … ’ ‘If we stay by these basins, I reckon we’ll be okay,’ said Arthur. ‘They’re real to us, so they must be somewhere.’
‘But we’ll be absent without leave,’ mumbled Fred. ‘Not on parade. The Bathroom Attendants will come looking for us.’
‘If the weirdway’s closed till tomorrow morning, they won’t be able to find us, will they?’ asked Arthur. ‘How long do they hang around?’
‘They come, do the washing, and go,’ said Fred. ‘Just as long as it takes to do all the Piper’s children in the area.’
‘So we wait here, then go back tomorrow morning,’ said Arthur. ‘Take our punishment and get on with the training.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ said the recruit who’d just finished packing up next to them. Arthur vaguely recognised her as being from his platoon. Florimel – the one Fred had said to watch out for. ‘You will report as ordered.’
‘No, we won’t,’ said Fred, all his despair of a moment ago vanishing. Apparently all it took to encourage him was someone like Florimel telling him he couldn’t do something. ‘I’m ordering you back to the barracks!’
‘Who made you High Lady Muckamuck?’ asked Fred. ‘You’re just a recruit, same as us. We’ll do what we want and you keep your mouth shut.’
‘I’ll report you,’ said Florimel, drawing herself up to her full height.
‘No, you won’t,’ said Arthur sternly. ‘You won’t say a word.’
Though Florimel was tall, for a moment Arthur appeared taller still, and his hair suddenly moved as if it had been swept by the beat of unseen wings. There was something of Dame Primus in Arthur’s stance and voice, just for an instant. Then he was just a boy again, but Florimel had already looked down and backed away.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Florimel. ‘Whatever you say, sir.’
She half-saluted, did a clumsy right turn, and marched away through a couple of green-clad Borderers who were also leaving, but in the opposite direction.
‘How did you do that?’ asked Fred, openmouthed. ‘I thought for sure she’d put us in a pickle. Someone like that …’ He stopped talking as the moon above their heads suddenly lurched towards the horizon. At the same time, a rosy glow fell on them from the east. Arthur turned to look. He couldn’t see the sun, but the light was the first hint of the dawn.
With that hint, the remaining soldiers hurriedly left in all directions, evidently disappearing back through their own weirdways to their respective places in the Great Maze. Within a few minutes, Arthur and Fred were alone in the vast, lonely washroom, with nothing but mirrors and basins to see in all directions, the mirrors beginning to reflect the morning light.
‘I hope this turns out to be a good idea,’ said Arthur.
‘So do I,’ said Fred with a shiver.
He shivered again as some of the farther mirrors began to fade away, as if they had dissolved in sunshine. He backed up to his own basin. Arthur found that he too had unconsciously backed up to make contact with the solid porcelain.
Slowly, as the sun rose and became an identifiable disk above the horizon, the sinks and mirrors around them faded away. Arthur and Fred drew closer together, till they were standing shoulder to shoulder. They could see nothing around them save sunlight, but their own basins remained solid, and their mirrors shone.
‘Maybe it’s going to be all right,’ Fred whispered.
‘Maybe,’ Arthur said.
That was when everything went black. Just for an instant. Arthur and Fred blinked and saw that while they were still shoulder to shoulder they were no longer leaning against a basin, nor were they surrounded by sunlight.
They were back in the barracks, leaning against Arthur’s wardrobe, and the only light came from the hurricane lantern above their heads and the others like it, all of them now lit.
In the dim light, Arthur saw three shapes standing ten feet in front of him. They were Denizen sized and shaped but clad in all-concealing daisy-yellow robes with long, pointed hoods. Their hands were gloved in flexible steel mesh and their faces too were hidden – this time behind masks of beaten bronze.
One mask had a smiling mouth. One had a mouth turned down in sombre reflection. The third mask had a mouth twisted in agony.
There was no sign of anyone … or anything … behind the mouths or the eyes of the masks. There was only darkness.