Drowned Wednesday

Eleven

DOCTOR SCAMANDROS didn't pause. With incredible speed, he wrote a word on Arthur's hand even as the boy snatched it away, the ink leaving a trail of fire across his skin.

"It will only hurt for a moment," Scamandros promised, as Arthur rushed to the sea and thrust his hand in. "If I'd warned you, you wouldn't have kept still."

Arthur couldn't speak. The pain occupied his entire mind — but only for a few more seconds. Before Doctor Scamandros had finished speaking, the pain ebbed and was gone, as if it had been washed out with the last wave.

Arthur walked the few yards back up the beach. Scamandros had already packed away the board and the pillbox, leaving only the shell and the mirror. He held these out to Arthur, who didn't notice, as he was holding the back of his hand to the candlelight. As far as the boy could tell, there weren't any scars or ink stains. He couldn't see any writing either.

"What did you write?" asked Arthur.

"My signature," said Doctor Scamandros. "Most House Sorcery is done with prepared apparatus that will only work for the authorised sorcerer."

"Was there Nothing in that ink?"

"Yes. A very small, refined amount. Not made by me, I hasten to add. I do not work directly with raw Nothing. Though it is true most House Sorcery depends upon apparatus or consumables originally created from or with Nothing."

"Right," said Arthur. He took the mirror and the shell suspiciously. "What do these do, then?"

"I have, I hope, attuned the mirror to show the current situation of your friend Leaf," said Scamandros. "And the conch so you may listen as well. It should work for some days, before the spell degrades and begins to show other persons or places. I should not use it once that occurs, as it may well show you to those who look for such open passages into the mind."

"How do I make it work?"

"Merely hold the shell to your ear and gaze into the mirror. It will work best somewhere quiet, with a little but not too much light shining into the mirror. Here, with the candle, would be ideal. It is generally best to have someone watching over you, as you will not be aware of what is happening around your corporeal form."

"Thanks," said Arthur. "I think I'll try this a bit later. Closer to the camp."

"As you wish. Now, as to messages, I'm afraid that neither telephone nor telegraph will work for us. Though we are not in the Border Sea, we are of it, and any connection would thus normally go through there and the exchange has been long flooded. However, I can send a message by slower means. Have you paper, pen, and ink?"

"No."

"Here you are, then." Scamandros handed Arthur a cracked leather case tied closed with a blue ribbon. "Write a letter while I prepare the messenger."

Arthur opened the case. It was like a pop-up book, with an inkwell, a pile of paper, and several pens rising up as he opened it. Arthur selected a pen, dipped it in the ink, which he noticed was turquoise blue, and wrote.

Dame Primus

Monday's Dayroom or Tuesday's Pyramid

Dear Dame Primus,

Lady Wednesday invited me to luncheon and sent a ship for me, but due to an accident I am now in another Secondary Realm with a different, wrecked ship, called the Moth. A House Sorcerer called Dr. Skamandros is sending this letter for me. I think I might try to find the Third Part of the Will, since I'm here. If you can send help or advice that would be good. Also my friend Leaf got picked up by accident and I think is on a ship called the Flying Mantis. If you can help her get back home that would also be good.

Yours sincerely,

Arthur Penhaligon

P.S. Say hi to Suzy for me, and Sneezer and everyone.

Arthur looked at what he had written. He hadn't even been sure he was going to try to find Part Three of the Will until he'd written it. But the idea must have been growing in his head ever since Leaf had said that he should do something first instead of waiting for the Trustees to do something to him.

The only problem was where to start.

"Finished?" asked Doctor Scamandros. "Fold it over and write the addressee on the front. Then press your thumb on the fold and it will seal."

Arthur did as he was instructed. When his thumb pressed down, a spray of rainbow light ran around the edges of the paper, and when he lifted his hand, there was a thick round seal that showed his own head in profile with a laurel wreath around his temples.

"Now, don't tell Captain Catapillow or Concort," said Doctor Scamandros. "Having a shortage of prepared stamps, I have taken something suitable from their collection."

He showed Arthur a large, colourful stamp that pictured a bird with a dark body, a white rump, and a forked tail. It was labelled in small type Leach's Stormy Petrel and there was a large number 2 and an unfamiliar currency sign.

"From your Earth," said Scamandros. "A nocturnal seabird. I shall just dab a drop of activated ink on its eye and utter a little incantation. You might wish to stand behind me, Arthur. Some of the Architect's words are inimical to mortals."

Arthur quickly moved behind Scamandros and put his fingers in his ears. He remembered the effect of the words the sorcerer had used on the ship.

Scamandros bent over the folded letter, opened his bronze ink bottle, and, using a tiny eyedropper, sucked up some ink. He then carefully dropped just a speck of the liquid on the eye of the bird in the stamp, at the same time muttering something that Arthur couldn't hear, though it made his elbows and knees twinge and ache.

The bird twitched and flapped its wings. It poked its head up and out of the stamp and, fluttering its wings furiously, worked its whole body out. As it left the stamp, it grew larger and the letter grew smaller. It continued to grow until it was about two feet long and its wings spanned six feet. The letter was tiny by then, a rectangle only an inch long. The bird, a bright twinkle in its eye, picked the letter up in its beak and swallowed it before waddling down the beach, slowly beating its wings till it was able to take off, immediately becoming graceful and swift.

"Well, I shall just clear up here," said Doctor Scamandros. "I have to spread some of this magic-tainted sand around and so forth. If you want to try the mirror and shell, I suggest you ask Mister Sunscorch to watch over you, and sit between the Captain's tent and the sea."

"Thanks," said Arthur. Doctor Scamandros was being very helpful.

Maybe I'm too suspicious, thought Arthur. He must have some reason of his own for helping me … I wonder what it is … I wonder if he can read my thoughts —

"How long will it take the letter to get to Dame Primus?" Arthur asked quickly, just in case Doctor Scamandros could read his mind and was offended that Arthur still didn't trust him.

"It's difficult to say. Barring accident or interception, a day or two in our time here. What that would be in the House, I cannot say without considerable calculation. Time does not run true between the House and the Realms."

Arthur nodded. It looked like he was stuck here for a week anyway, till the Moth could be repaired. Since there was nothing he could do about that, he might as well use the time to work out what to do. And to do that, he needed to find out what had happened to Leaf.

"I'll go back now," said Arthur. "I will ask Sunscorch to watch over me. Thanks for your help, Doctor."

Scamandros bowed.

Arthur turned away and started to walk back along the beach. It was dark without the candle, but he could see the lights of the camp, which weren't that far. Even so, he started to walk quite fast.

He was halfway there when something made him turn around and look back. He could see the glow of the candle, and a partial silhouette that might have been Doctor Scamandros. But there was something else there as well. Another shape, a dark cutout against the candlelight. Arthur only saw it for a moment, then it was gone. But in that instant, he thought he recognised what it was.

Another stormy petrel. Doctor Scamandros was sending a message to someone else.

I knew it, thought Arthur fiercely. He's probably trying to sell me out to Wednesday or one of the other Trustees. They might send Superior Saturday's Dusk if that's who it was who attacked me in Grim Tuesday's Pit. If he comes back with his sword I'll be helpless without a Key, though maybe the crew of the Moth would defend me because of the Captain's disc. I still don't understand why Saturday would want Nothing to destroy the House. There is definitely something going on with the Morrow Days and Nothing. But what? Why is everything so difficult —

Arthur's thoughts submerged into his subconscious as he was hailed by a sentry near the camp.

"Halt! Who there goes? I mean, who goes there? Recognise me and advance!"

"Um, I think your name is One-Ear, isn't it?" said Arthur. The Denizen was only partially illuminated by the lanterns on Catapillow's tent, a dozen yards away. "It's Arthur, I'm just coming back from a walk. Doctor Scamandros will be along in a while."

"Advance, friend!" called out One-Ear. He lowered his crossbow and waved Arthur in. As the boy passed, the Denizen muttered, "Actually my real name is Gowkin, but One-Ear sounds so much better. I was a Third-Class Box Shifter before the Deluge. Now I'm a forecastle hand —"

"One-Ear! Watch your front!"

Arthur recognised that shout. Sunscorch came stomping down the beach. Arthur could just make out another sentry behind him, scanning the darkness, his crossbow ready.

"Aye, aye, sir!" called One-Ear. "Just admitting a friend."

Sunscorch gave a slight bow as he met Arthur, which the boy returned.

"The Doc done what's needful?" asked Sunscorch.

"I think so," said Arthur. He held up the mirror and shell. "He's given me something I can use to see what's happened to my friend Leaf. Only I need someone to keep watch while I'm using it. I was hoping you wouldn't mind..."

"Watch over you? Aye, I can do that. I have to finish going round the sentries first, since we don't want Feverfew and his lot arriving unannounced."

"I thought we left them behind!" said Arthur as he fell into step with the Second Mate.

"Maybe, maybe not," said Sunscorch. "Feverfew's an uncommon clever sorcerer. Doctor Scamandros would outdo him in book learning, but that pirate must have dozens of filthy tricks the Doc don't know about. Watch your front!"

The next sentry scrambled to her feet and picked up her crossbow. Sunscorch gave a disgruntled snort and kept on.

"Doctor Scamandros told me he was a volunteer," Arthur said. He needed to know more about Scamandros. "What did he mean? Why would he volunteer?"

"Before the big flood there were only Navigator-Sorcerers on the regular ships," explained Sunscorch. "So when all the extra ships were being built, they advertised for volunteers with enough sorcerous training to come aboard. Some of the regular sailors were transferred to the new ships too."

"Like you," guessed Arthur.

"Yes, sir, like me," said Sunscorch heavily. "Fourth Mate of the Spiral Waterspout, I was, and you never saw a better ship and a finer crew."

"But why would Doctor Scamandros volunteer to be a navigator if he was a top-class sorcerer trained in the Upper House?"

Sunscorch shrugged.

"He probably lost something. That's why most folk from other parts of the House come to the Border Sea."

"I don't understand."

"Anything that's ever been lost anywhere turns up in the Border Sea sooner or later," said Sunscorch. "Finding it again can be more than a mite difficult, though. And it has to be lost by accident — not on purpose, or stolen."

They were almost down to the sea again. A Denizen stood in the wash, looking out to the water, a crossbow at her side. There were a few very red, very bright stars in one patch of the sky, but it was mostly cloudy, and there was no moon of any kind. Possibly no moon circled this world.

"Halt!"

"It's Sunscorch and the passenger," said Sunscorch. "All quiet?"

"Nothing save the waves," said the Denizen. Arthur recognised her voice. It was the one with scales all over her face. Lizard.

"Mind your eye," said Sunscorch. "If they come, like as not it'll be straight from the sea."

"Aye, aye!"

Sunscorch turned back and started walking up the well-trodden patch of sand between two of the larger piles of boxes.

"That's my rounds done. Where do you want to look into that mirror of yours?"

"Somewhere quiet, with a bit of light," said Arthur. He pointed to a patch of sand where there were no resting Denizens, not too far from the lanterns on the tent. "Over there would do, I guess."

Sunscorch followed Arthur over, and stood behind him as Arthur sat down cross-legged on the sand. The boy looked in the shell, holding it up to the light, and shook it a few times to make sure there was nothing inside. Then he gingerly put the shell to his ear, raised the mirror, and tilted it so it caught some of the lantern light.

All Arthur could hear at first was the soft roar of the sea inside the shell, and all he could see in the mirror was his own reflection. He tried thinking about Leaf, but for some reason he couldn't remember exactly what she looked like. He could remember her voice, though, and he concentrated on that, recalling what she had said when she'd come into his hospital room.

The roar in the shell cut off, to be replaced by the rattle of iron and the creak of wood. The mirror clouded as if Arthur had breathed on it, then cleared to show not his reflection, but another dark scene, lit by a different light.

Arthur stared at the mirror. He could see Leaf, inside a very cramped, dimly lit room.

She was a prisoner.