Гарт Никс – Lady Friday (страница 6)
“Get off!” said the operator suddenly, over the top of Sneezer’s voice. “No, I’m not coming down the line… Get off! Stop it! Ah! Help! It’s got my foot – pull me back, lads! Heave!”
A whole host of voices joined in then, shouting and screaming, and whatever Sneezer was saying was lost. Then there was a deafening howl, as if someone had trodden on the tail of an extremely large and unfriendly wolf, and the handset crumbled into dust in Arthur’s hands, leaving him holding a single wire that let out a small and pathetic spark before he hastily dropped it.
“We have to find my mum,” said Arthur.
“Your destiny does not include a mortal family,” Dame Primus declared. “As I have said before, you should shake off those minor shackles. As I understand it, your parents are not blood relations in any case.”
“They’re my parents,” Arthur protested. He had long since got used to being adopted, but there was still some sting in the Will’s words.
“Emily and Bob love me, and I love them. I love all my family.”
“That is a mortal invention,” said Dame Primus. “It is of no use in the House.”
“What?” asked Arthur.
“Love,” Dame Primus answered, her lips twisted in distaste. “Now, Lord Arthur, I really
“I requested?” Arthur’s voice was vacant since he was still in shock. He’d tried so hard to protect his family. Everything he’d done had been to keep them out of things. But it hadn’t worked. Superior Saturday had threatened to use the Skinless Boy to take his place, to erase their minds so they forgot the real Arthur. Since that hadn’t worked, maybe now Friday or Saturday had kidnapped his mum… Arthur’s mind raced as he tried to get a grip on the situation.
“At our meeting in Monday’s Dayroom,” said Dame Primus. “Before you were drafted. Do pay attention, Lord Arthur.”
“I’m thinking,” snapped Arthur. “Captain Drury, do you have a spare phone? I have to get Sneezer on the line again. And Dr Scamandros.”
“Arthur, this is not—”
Dame Primus got no further as two of Arthur’s Legionary guards suddenly grabbed him and pulled him back, and two more jumped in front of him and locked their shields with an almighty crash. The embodiment of the Will leaped back too and all over the room there was the sudden whine of savage-swords, and the acrid, ozone smell of lightning-charged tulwars as everyone drew their weapons.
Arthur couldn’t even see what his guards had reacted to until he stood on tiptoe and looked over the locked shields to see that someone had appeared only a few feet in front of where he’d been standing.
That someone was a tall, slight, female Denizen clad in a very unmilitary flowing robe made of thousands of tiny silver strips that chinked as she moved. Over that beautiful garment she wore a thick leather apron with several pockets, out of which protruded the wooden handles of weapons or perhaps tools. This strange ensemble was completed by the silver branch she held in her right hand, from which a dozen small cylindrical fruits of spun gold hung suspended, tinkling madly as half a dozen Denizens threw themselves upon her.
“I’m a messenger!” she shouted. “A herald! Not an assassin! Look, I’ve got an olive branch!”
“Looks more like a lemon branch,” said the Legionary Decurion as he twisted it out of the Denizen’s grasp. He looked over at Arthur. “Sorry, sir! We’ll have her out of here in a moment!”
“I’m an emissary from Lady Friday!” shouted the silver-robed Denizen, who could hardly be seen amid the scrum of soldiers. “I insist on an audience with Lord Arthur!”
“Wait!” Arthur and Dame Primus called out at the same time.
The legionaries stopped dragging the sudden visitor away, though they kept a very firm grip on her.
“Who are you?” demanded Dame Primus at the same time that Arthur asked, “How did you get here?”
“I’m Emelena Folio Gatherer, Second Grade, 10,218th in precedence within the House,” declared the Denizen. “I have been sent as a herald to Lord Arthur with a message from Lady Friday, who sent me here through her mirror.”
“Through her mirror?” asked Arthur, as Dame Primus said, “What message?”
Arthur and Dame Primus looked at each other for a long moment. Finally the embodiment of the Will lowered her chin very slightly. Arthur turned back to Emelena.
“What mirror?”
“Lady Friday’s mirror,” said Emelena. She added hesitantly, “Am I correct in assuming that I address Lord Arthur?”
“Yes, I’m Arthur.”
Emelena mumbled something that Arthur correctly thought was about expecting him to be taller, more impressive, have lightning bolts coming out of his eyes, and so on. Ever since someone in the House had written a book about Lord Arthur, every Denizen he’d met had been disappointed by his lack of heroic stature and presence.
“Lady Friday’s mirror,” asked Arthur. “It can send you anywhere within the House and the Secondary Realms?”
“I don’t know, Lord Arthur,” replied Emelena. “I’ve never been sent anywhere before. Usually I’m a senior page collator of the Guild of Binding and Restoration in the Middle House.”
“Friday’s mirror is known to us, Lord Arthur,” said Dame Primus through pursed lips. She looked around the room, then pointed to a highly polished metal shield that was one of the trophies hung on the wall. “Someone take that shield down and put it in the dark.”
She paused to watch several Denizens dash forward to carry out her orders, then continued, “Friday’s mirror is akin to the Seven Dials in the Lower House. Powered by the Fifth Key, she can look out or send Denizens through any mirror or reflective surface, provided she has been there before herself by more usual means. Which does make us wonder when and why Lady Friday has come here before to meet with Sir Thursday. However, what is of most importance now is the message Lady Friday sends. I trust it is her unconditional and total surrender?”
“After a fashion,” said Emelena. “I think. Perhaps.”
This time, Arthur was silent, while Dame Primus drew in her breath with an all-too-snakelike hiss.
“Shall I tell you the message?” asked Emelena. “I’ve got it memorised.”
“Go ahead,” said Arthur.
Emelena took a deep breath, clasped her hands together and without looking directly at Arthur or Dame Primus, began to speak a little too fast and without emphasising the punctuation, though she did stop every now and then to draw breath.
Emelena stopped, took a deep breath and bowed. When she stood up, she added, “I have the metal tablet in an envelope here, Lord Arthur.”
She took a small but heavy buff-coloured envelope out of her apron pocket and held it out to Arthur. He instinctively reached for it and his fingers had just touched the envelope when Dame Primus shouted, “No! Don’t take—”
Her warning came a fraction of a second too late, as Arthur’s fingers closed and Emelena’s let go. As he took the weight, Arthur felt a sudden surge of sorcerous energy erupt out of the package. The envelope blew apart in a shower of tiny confetti and Arthur had a fraction of a second to see that what he was now holding was a small round plate made of some highly burnished silvery metal.
Then everything around him vanished, to be replaced by a sudden rush of freezing air, the nauseous shock of disorientation and the sudden fearful realisation that he was falling… followed seconds later by his sudden impact with the ground.
Arthur lay stunned for several seconds. He wasn’t hurt, but was seriously shocked from the sudden shift from where he’d been to where he was now, which was flat on his back in a deep drift of snow. Looking up, all he could see were large, puffy grey clouds and some lazy, downward-spiralling snowflakes. One landed in his open mouth, prompting him to shut it.