‘B … B … Bathroom Attendants,’ whispered Fred. ‘Fred Initial Numbers Gold, Manuscript Gilder’s Assistant Sixth Class, favourite colour green, tea with milk and one sugar, shortbread but not caraway biscuits …’
The Bathroom Attendants glided forward, robes whispering on the floor. Two of them reached into their broad sleeves and pulled out strange crowns of sculpted blue ice, all spikes and shards that crackled and sparkled with dancing light. The third produced a length of golden rope that moved in his hand like a spitting cobra, rearing up to spit its venom.
But it did not spit poison. Instead the golden rope leaped through the air and fastened itself around Arthur’s ankles, bringing him down even as he turned to run away.
Arthur hit the floor hard. The golden rope swarmed over his legs, wrapping them tight, then the loose end fastened itself on his left wrist and started to draw it behind his back. Arthur resisted as hard as he could and scrabbled desperately in his pouch with his right hand, trying to get the silver crocodile ring. It wasn’t a coin, but it was silver, and Arthur wanted it under his tongue.
He had it in his grasp and was bringing it up to his mouth when a coil of the rope lashed itself around his right wrist and pulled it back. Arthur snapped his head forward, got his fingers in his mouth, and pushed the ring under his tongue, cutting his lip in the process.
Blood trickled down his chin as he was hauled up onto his knees, the golden rope securing his arms behind him and his ankles together.
Arthur looked up and saw the fizzing, sparkling crown coming down.
I’m Arthur Penhaligon, he thought desperately. Arthur Penhaligon, my parents are Bob and Emily. I’m the Master of the Lower House, the Far Reaches, the Border Sea –
The crown was wedged tight upon his head – and Arthur fell silently screaming into darkness.
Twelve
LEAF GOT HERSELF in a good position near the top of the ladder and pushed up the manhole cover. It was steel-reinforced concrete and very heavy, but she got it up far enough to admit sunlight, and then with an additional heave managed to slide it half off the manhole.
Peering up, Leaf could see the sky and the tops of some buildings. Strangely, she couldn’t hear any traffic, though the manhole had to be in the middle of a road and, as far as she could work out, about a mile from the hospital. It was the third ladder she’d come to, crawling down the tunnel – she had decided not to climb the earlier ones in case they were still inside the quarantine perimeter. Since she had no idea which direction the tunnel went in, she wouldn’t know for sure where she was until she climbed out and had a look.
Hoping that the lack of traffic noise meant she wouldn’t be run over as soon as she popped her head out, Leaf hauled herself up and quickly looked around. As she’d thought, she was in the middle of a city street. There were rows of old terrace houses on either side, behind a line of parked cars. But there were no moving cars or other traffic. The street was unnaturally quiet.
Leaf took a deep breath and pulled herself out. That took most of her strength, so it was a few seconds before she could crouch and then stand up. She had an idea of where she was, but to check she looked back towards where the hospital ought to be.
It was there all right, but that wasn’t what made Leaf gasp and sit back down as if she’d been punched in the guts.
Looking over the rim of her special glasses, she didn’t just see the white bulk of the hospital’s three towers, all concrete and glass, about a mile-and-a-half away. She could also see another building, hovering in the air directly above the hospital. A vast, crazy building of weird turrets and towers, houses and halls, outbuildings, underbuildings, overbuild-ings, and battlements. One small part of it rested directly on top of the hospital and Leaf could just make out a shining gate that she knew instinctively was the Front Door.
It was the House. Not manifested where Leaf had expected it to be, near Arthur’s home, but above the hospital. She had just managed to escape from the only place where it might have been possible for her to reach the Front Door.
Leaf lowered her head and gripped her hair, ready to pull some of it out. How could she have assumed the House would manifest itself where Arthur said it had before? Clearly it appeared wherever the last Denizen or Nithling to use the Front Door had gotten out – in this case, the hospital.
‘Get off the road, girl! You’ll get shot!’
Leaf jumped at the voice and looked wildly around.
‘Come on, then! Get in here!’
It was a woman talking. An old woman, standing in the doorway of one of the terraces, gesturing at Leaf to come inside.
Leaf groaned, rolled over, pushed herself up with her hands, and walked slowly over to the woman’s door.