‘That is not relevant,’ said the Piper. ‘Arthur, either you give me the Keys, beginning with the Fourth Key you hold there, or I will take them from you or whoever holds them.’
‘What will you do once … if you get them?’ asked Arthur.
‘I shall rule the House.’
‘I mean, will you set it to rights and get everything back in order so the House just watches and records the Secondary Realms and doesn’t interfere?’
‘It is not interference to tend something that has grown awry,’ said the Piper. ‘My mother was confused on this issue. Essentially she did not want others to meddle with what she had made, but she “interfered” with the Realms herself if the mood took her. As shall I.’
Arthur shook his head.
‘You don’t care about all the life out there, do you? All the mortals. We’re just the end product of the Architect’s big experiment.’
‘No,’ said the Piper. ‘That is true of my brother Sunday. It is not true of me. I love my mortals, the children I brought to make the House more interesting, and the Rats who serve as my spies. I tried to make my New Denizens as much like them as I could. I succeeded too well, perhaps, for they would prefer to farm and make things, even though they are excellent soldiers and wish to serve me well. Now, we have talked enough. What is your decision, Arthur? I must tell you that if you decline my generous offer, we will attack as soon as both you and I leave this ashen field.’
‘What happened to the Piper’s children who were with me on our attack on the spike?’ Arthur asked.
‘Two were slain by Sir Thursday, though I tried to save them. The others serve me now, as is right and proper.’
‘Of their own free will?’
‘They exist to serve me,’ replied the Piper. ‘It is their reason for being.’
Arthur looked down at the baton in his hand. He could feel the power of the Fourth Key like a constant low vibration and a warmth that was delicious to his skin.
I wonder if I’m getting addicted to the Keys, he thought. I wonder if I’m making a really big mistake. One with untold consequences for everybody alive, here in the House and all those billions of humans and aliens and who knows what out in the Secondary Realms …
‘I would be happy to work with you against Lord Sunday,’ Arthur said slowly. ‘And I’m sure we could give your Army part of the Great Maze to have for farms. There are even villages ready-built for them to move into. But I can’t give you the Keys. Like it or not, I am the Rightful Heir, and I think I have to keep going. To set everything to rights. To let the universe get on with itself, without … without your kind … toying with all our lives.’
‘That’s that, then,’ said the Piper. ‘I shall play at your funeral, Arthur. You deserve no less, for all that you lack wisdom. It shall be soon, I fear, for the Citadel will not stand long against the might I bring to –’
Arthur was never entirely sure what happened then. The Will either spat poison at the mouth opening of the Piper’s mask or struck at his mouth so swiftly that its passage looked like a spray of venom.
Whichever it was, the Piper staggered back and let out a cry of pain and anger that burned the inside of Arthur’s ears, even after he managed to clap his palms to his head. The boy turned and bolted back towards the bastion. Behind him, the great kettle drums of the enemy beat out a staccato alarm, and tens of thousands of New Nithlings shouted out in rage at their enemy’s treachery, a noise that was as loud as thunder and much more frightening.
Arthur sprinted to the sally port and through the open door. As soon as he was past, it was bolted with six huge bolts, and then when he had gone forward along the passage, a vast stone was swung against it and locked in place.
‘I told you not to do anything!’ Arthur shouted at the Will, which had coiled itself on his forearm, its head held low. ‘That was dishonourable and stupid. The New Nithlings will go berserk.’
‘You told me not to poisonously bite anyone,’ said the Will. ‘I did not. It was an acid. Unfortunately, the Piper will only be incapacitated, at best, for a day or so. If I got it in his mouth. If he still has a mouth.’
A clatter of footsteps and armour announced the arrival of Marshal Dusk and his entourage.
‘What happened, Sir Arthur?’ asked Dusk. ‘We could not see clearly, but the assault has begun!’
‘The Will spat acid at the Piper,’ said Arthur bitterly. ‘For some dishonourable reason of its own.’
‘The Piper is a traitor to the Rightful Heir,’ said the snake. ‘And a very powerful enemy who now will not take the field against us for a day or more. Besides, the parley was finished.’