Lord Sunday

Twenty-eight

LEAF REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS with a start. It took her a while to work out that she was still flying, carried along by Suzy, and that Dr Scamandros and Giac were flying next to them, with Fred a little farther along the line.

‘Did I hear Arthur?’ Leaf asked muzzily.

‘Yep,’ said Suzy.

‘What’s happening?’ asked Leaf. ‘Why is everyone cheering?’

‘Dunno exactly,’ Suzy replied. ‘But Arthur’s got the Seventh Key. The fighting’s over. We’re going in to see him now. Hang on!’

She swooped down towards the Elysium, swerving between the ranks and ranks of hovering soldiers, Newniths, sorcerers, and insects. All save the insects were cheering. The idea of peace was equally attractive to all participants, though perhaps this was only because the power of the Seventh Key had taken away the madness of battle.

Suzy and Leaf saw Arthur first. He had become very tall, and even more impossibly good-looking. He was a head taller than Lord Sunday, who stood behind him, next to a stunted apple tree that was swaying on exposed roots, as if it stood on tiptoe. Arthur himself was leaning on a tall cage made of gilded bars and staring into the distance.

Dame Primus was a dozen yards ahead of Suzy. She landed next to the cage and folded her wings. Suzy landed behind her, but not too close, and let go of Leaf, who took a few shaky steps forward. Dr Scamandros and Giac at once went to either side, and took her arms to keep her steady.

‘Thanks,’ whispered Leaf. She whispered because she suddenly felt like she shouldn’t be there. It was like dropping in unannounced on the inauguration of the president or the coronation of the queen or something, made somehow worse and more terrifying because Arthur didn’t look like Arthur anymore. He was too dazzling, too bright, and obviously too far beyond human for Leaf to even think of him as the boy he had once been.

‘You have done well, Arthur,’ boomed Dame Primus. ‘You are in truth the Rightful Heir.’

‘I am,’ said Arthur. ‘I would have my Keys, so that I may turn back the Nothing and rebuild my Kingdom.’

Dame Primus inclined her head graciously. With that movement, the clock-hand sword that was the First Key flew to Arthur’s belt. The gauntlets of the Second Key disappeared from the Will’s hands and reappeared on Arthur’s. The trident and baton brooch split into the Third and Fourth Keys and grew somewhat, before flipping end over end to join the sword at Arthur’s belt. The Fifth Key, which Arthur already had, joined the Seventh Key on the chain around his neck, and the quill pen that was the Sixth Key slid into position above his left ear.

Arthur smiled and raised his hands, letting the power of all seven Keys infuse his being.

I can do anything now, he thought. Anything at all ...

Dame Primus picked one of the tiny, wizened apples from the Part Seven tree and bit into it with her perfect teeth. The sound was sharp and incredibly loud, redolent with the snap of something breaking that isn’t meant to break.

Arthur felt that sound like a blow to the stomach. He dropped his hands and stared as the tree and Dame Primus stepped into each other. For a moment they were mighty Denizen and stunted tree, then both joined to become a column of swirling words. Words of fire, so hot and bright they could be seen through closed eyelids, seen even if you looked away. There were millions of words, but one phrase was repeated over and over again, clear not only to Arthur with his newfound mental powers but to everyone else as well.

I am the Will of the Architect, said the burning words. Let the Will be done.

Arthur read this phrase and, to his horror, found that he had spoken it aloud, unknowing, without conscious direction. His mighty voice, and the power of the Keys, had been conscripted to the Will’s purpose, the execution of long-delayed intent.

What that intent was became immediately apparent.

Beyond the hill of the Elysium, with a roar like a thousand planes taking off, a great gout of Nothing burst from the ground, continuing upward to cut through the ceiling of the sky. A second later, through the great gash in the fabric of the House above, an answering torrent of Nothing came cascading back down.

Thousands of Denizens, insects, Newniths, and others were destroyed in this first assault from the Void. A few seconds later, before anyone could react, another fountain of Nothing burst up, and another. Nothing spread everywhere, annihilating the Gardens as quickly as someone might wipe a table clean.

‘Stop it, Arthur!’ cried Leaf. ‘Stop it!’

Arthur tried to turn to her, his face contorted with the useless effort. He tried to speak, but could not. He tried to use the Keys against the Nothing that was pouring in on all sides, but he couldn’t do that either. He had become a mere channel, a conduit for the Will.

The others were also fixed in place. The tendons on the back of Suzy’s hand were taut, her sword drawn a mere half inch from its sheath. Dr Scamandros’s fingers had only touched his pocket. Both Giac and Fred had just managed to shut their eyes.

Nothing spread to the edge of the lawn, and high waves of it crested together above Arthur’s head. But the waves did not come crashing down. The Nothing stopped, as if an invisible dome covered the small paved area of the Elysium.

It had only taken a few seconds, but the Incomparable Gardens were destroyed, and with them, nearly all the Denizens, Newniths, and other inhabitants of the House.

Only Arthur, Suzy, Leaf, Dr Scamandros, Giac, Fred, Lord Sunday, and the Will survived.

A word inside the column of burning letters flashed, and Arthur and his friends found their mouths at least unfrozen, though they still could not move.

‘I regret to say ...’ began Dr Scamandros, whose face was for once completely clear of tattoos. But whatever he regretted was not heard, for he suddenly stopped talking, in order to gasp as someone stepped out of the Nothing that surrounded them.

It was a man, unbowed and vigourous despite his obvious age. He wore only a plain white robe, a little like a toga.

‘The Old One,’ said Arthur. ‘Free from the clock!’

‘Freed by your hand, Arthur,’ said the Old One. ‘For which I give you thanks.’

‘But ... what is happening?’ asked Arthur. ‘Why is the Will ... we have to stop the Nothing! Won’t everything be destroyed if this last part of the Garden goes? The whole Universe? Everything!?’

‘Yes,’ said the Old One.

He walked over to the column of words that was the Will and stepped into it.

As he did so, Nothing crashed in.

The Elysium was annihilated in that final wave of Nothing, and with its destruction, so too the Secondary Realms were destroyed: every galaxy, star, and planet, including Earth, and all its people, life, and wonders.

The Architect’s Creation was no more.

The Universe had returned to the Nothing from which it had been made.