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Superior Saturday(60)

By:Garth Nix


It’s got to be Saturday’s Dusk, thought Arthur. He’ll spot me for sure . . . and then there’s five thousand sorcerers here to finish me off.

Trying to act casual, Arthur raised his hand to his face and scratched his nose. With his mouth partially covered, he hissed, ‘Will!’

An albino cockroach with Will written on its back in red letters crawled up Arthur’s wrist and into the palm of his hand.

Think to me, said the Will, silently. You don’t need to talk.

Oh, yeah, replied Arthur. I forgot. That’s Saturday’s Dusk up ahead. I think I need you to distract him. Take the shape of a Raised Rat, maybe, and run away. Then you’d better go rescue Suzy, because I’m not going to get the chance—

You don’t know that, the Will replied. Also, I don’t think Saturday’s Dusk will know you. There’s too much sorcery around for him to sniff you out. That bronze thing there is reeking with it, not to mention the platform it’s on. They’ve got two hundred and fifty executive-level sorcerers preparing to lift that thing, you know. Just keep your head down.

I still want you to go and rescue Suzy! Arthur insisted. Go now, while there’s still a chance.

No, said the Will into Arthur’s head. My job is to find the Rightful Heir, and now that I have, I’m sticking with you. We might even get a chance at the Key. Anything can happen now, with the Piper’s Army below and Sunday’s insects above.

I want you to go and rescue Suzy! I order you to do so!

‘Name?’ asked the gold-umbrella sorcerer.

Arthur dropped his hand, and the Will ran up his sleeve.

‘Uh, Woxroth,’ muttered Arthur.

‘Last and least,’ said the sorcerer. ‘Get up the ladder and find your place.’

As Arthur scrambled up the ladder, the sorcerer turned to Saturday’s Dusk, who had fastened a monocle in his right eye and was staring at the paved floor.

‘Loading almost complete, sir.’

‘Not a moment too soon,’ replied Dusk. ‘The Piper’s forces have finished landing and are moving up. Well, they may have the Floor. They will not get far up the tower, and we will soon be in the Gardens.’

‘Are they as beautiful and wondrous as they say?’ asked the sorcerer as he started to climb, with Noon coming up after him. He was about fifteen feet behind Arthur, and the boy could hear every word.

‘We will soon see,’ said Dusk. ‘Time we began, I think.’

He held on to the ladder with one hand and cupped the other around his mouth, calling out to another gold-umbrella sorcerer who stood watching in the nearest corner cupola on the platform.

‘Take her up!’ shouted Dusk. ‘All the way to the top!’





TWENTY





THE SORCEROUS SUPERNUMERARIES were on the lowest level of the rocket, immediately above the solid brass case. In between the holes in the wicker floor, Arthur could see the metal. He didn’t want to think about what might be packed inside the lower half of the rocket. Some kind of propellant, he assumed. It was clear that the assault ram was going to be fired at the underside of the Incomparable Gardens, and the most likely place for that to happen was from the top of the tower.

Arthur was lucky to be one of the last aboard, because that meant his position was right up against the bars. The Denizens were packed in shoulder to shoulder, but he could turn around and see outside.

There was no talk among the sorcerers around Arthur. He looked out through the bars at the sorcerers in one of the corner cupolas on the platform below him. They were slotting their gold and silver umbrellas into holes in the ironwork. When the umbrellas were set, they turned the handles sideways to make them into something like music stands, and all together they placed open books upon the handles and, without any visible or audible signal, began to write with peacock-feather pens.

Arthur felt power in whatever they were writing. It made him feel slightly ill and itchy all over. As they wrote, the platform silently rose off the floor and began to climb up the side of the tower.

As it climbed, the Sorcerous Supernumeraries began to whisper to one another.

‘We’re all going to die.’

‘I bet I die first.’

‘We’ll all die together.’

‘We might not. We might just be horribly injured and demoted again.’

‘You always look on the bright side, Athelbert.’

‘No, I don’t. I do expect to get killed.’

‘Surprised they put us down here. Thought we’d be first to the slaughter.’

‘Nah, waste of time putting us up front. Those big beetle-things’d cut the likes of us up in a trice.’

‘What beetle-things?’

‘Quiet!’ roared an authoritative voice from somewhere farther inside the packed Denizen ranks.