Superior Saturday(30)

Arthur carefully climbed down, anxious not to overbalance the defunct automaton and send both of them down into the smoky depths. As soon as the boy stood safe on his own feet, Dartbristle began to push the Ratcatcher over the side.

‘They can track these too,’ he said. ‘More come to find the remains, whenever one is slain.’

Arthur helped him push, and Suzy slid out and gave the Ratcatcher a not very helpful but certainly satisfying kick just as it tumbled over.

‘Right – I’ll get that door open,’ said Dartbristle. He looked admiringly at Arthur and added, ‘Well fought, Lord Arthur.’

‘Thanks,’ said Arthur absently. He looked at his paw and saw that it was already almost healed, the gold blood disappearing as it dried. Belatedly he remembered that Suzy had been hurt.

‘Suzy, that feeler cut you! Are you all right?’

Suzy, who had been looking over the side, turned around. Her shirt was cut through and gaped open, and there was a line of blood across her furry stomach, blood that was neither the blue of a Denizen nor entirely the red of a human, but something in between.

‘Nah, I’ve had worse,’ Suzy said dismissively. ‘If I’d ’ad my old coat on, it would never have even broken the skin. Give it a day or two to scab up and I’ll be right as rain.’

‘Found it!’ declared Dartbristle. He pushed energetically on a slight knob of rock that was at the level of his knee. His push was answered by a rumble inside the stone. Slowly, a great rock-slab door as wide as the walkway pivoted open.

‘In with the bottle,’ ordered Dartbristle. He started pushing the trolley, and Arthur quickly joined him. Suzy moved more slowly to help, and Arthur noticed she grimaced as she set her shoulder to the Nebuchadnezzar and began to push.

Beyond the door – which creaked shut behind them – was a rough-hewn stone chamber the size of a small auditorium, with a very high ceiling. Huge glass bottles as large or larger than the Simultaneous Nebuchadnezzar were lined up against the walls, and in front of them were stacked many smaller bottles, jars, jugs, urns and other containers of glass, metal or stoneware.

There was an open space on one wall between an amber bottle full of a dark viscous fluid and a nine-foot-tall clear glass bottle filled with what looked like light green olive oil. Dartbristle pointed at this gap and they manoeuvred the Nebuchadnezzar to the space, untied it from the trolley, and began to lift it up.

‘Hold it at an angle and lean it on that pot there,’ Dartbristle instructed. ‘Got to put some oil in it, so it doesn’t look out of place. The purloined letter, you know.’

‘The what?’ Arthur asked as Dartbristle picked up a Jeroboam-sized bottle and with great difficulty poured a stream of purple-black oil into the Nebuchadnezzar.

‘Oh, yes, heard that one before,’ said Suzy. She left Arthur holding up the Simultaneous Bottle and wandered over to look at a small, narrow door on the other side of the chamber.

‘Hide a letter by putting it in plain sight, where it will be considered ordinary,’ explained Dartbristle. ‘Good idea. Right, got to slap the cork in and then we’ll be off.’

‘Off where exactly?’ asked Arthur. ‘We need to get some clothes for when we stop being Raised Rats. This gear we have on won’t fit.’

‘Exactly!’ said Dartbristle. ‘Half a mo’.’

He took off his hat, tipped it over, and took out a very small bottle, the kind that might hold perfume, and what Arthur at first thought was a cigarette pack. Dartbristle took a tiny rolled-up scroll out of the pack, checked what was written on the outside of it, unstoppered the bottle, and thrust the scroll in. He then replaced the stopper and put everything back into his hat, which he pulled firmly down upon his head, before also replacing his mask.

‘Smallest Simultaneous Bottle there is,’ he said. He pointed to the Nebuchadnezzar. ‘One hundred and twentieth the size of that. Just had to report your arrival. Saturday’s lot can’t track the small bottle – it’s sorcery on a scale too tiny for them to contemplate. Come on.’

‘I asked where we’re going to,’ said Arthur frostily.

Really, these inferior creatures are galling. They should learn instant obedience –

Arthur shook his head and touched the bag at his wrist, feeling for Elephant.

I am not an angry, puffed-up superior Denizen, he thought sternly. I am human. I am polite. I care about other people.

‘Up to the floor,’ said Dartbristle. ‘To join a Chain Gang. When you’re back in normal shape you’ll fit right in with the Piper’s children. They’re a good bunch; they’ll take you on without too many questions. And they’ll have clothes for you too.’