Nothing happened.
‘Tell it who you are,’ suggested Suzy. ‘I mean, the Master and everything.’
‘I’m Arthur Penhaligon. Master of the Lower House. Rightful Heir to . . . uh . . . the Keys to the Kingdom, the Lower House, the Middle House, the Upper House . . . um . . . the Far Reaches –’
‘The Great Maze, the Incomparable Gardens, and the Border Sea,’ recited Suzy, helping Arthur out.
‘Says who?’
For a second Arthur didn’t know who’d spoken, till he saw the corner of the sun bear’s mouth lift up. It had a high-pitched, squeaky drawl, and it could speak with barely a movement of its snout or lips.
‘Says Paragraphs Three to Seven of the Will, who chose me in the first place,’ said Arthur angrily. ‘I didn’t want the job, but I’ve got it, so you can get up and help me out.’
The Will opened one eye fully and slowly looked Arthur up and down. ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth? You could be anyone.Where’s the First Key if you’re Master of the Lower House?’
‘I made Dame Primus – that is, the first part of the Will – my Steward,’ Arthur answered, trying to muster authority into his voice. ‘She’s got the Key. I need you to make Grim Tuesday hand over the Second Key to me, so you’d better stay awake and start thinking about doing it.’
‘Not as easy as that,’ said the Will. Its high-pitched voice was quite annoying. ‘I need to see it in writing that you’re the Rightful Heir. Proper official notice from Dame Primus. Part One chooses the heir, fair enough, but the least she can do is the proper notification. I can’t do a thing without it. Wouldn’t be prudent. Don’t bother me again unless you’ve got the notice.’
It shut its eyes. Arthur reached forward and tapped it smartly on the nose, then retreated even more smartly as one claw snapped out and raked the air where his hand had been an instant before.
‘I said, don’t bother me,’ squeaked the Will. ‘I’m meditating.’
‘Even more irritating than the first bit,’ remarked Suzy. ‘Though I s’pose it’s a benefit not having it in your throat.’
‘We’ll have to get it – and ourselves – away from Grim Tuesday, out of the pyramid, and up to the Lower House,’ said Arthur. ‘Somehow or other. Did Dame Primus tell you what to do once we got theWill?’
‘Nope,’ said Suzy. ‘Maybe I should’ve asked, from experience, like. With her last plan coming unstuck and everything.’
‘This one’s come unstuck too,’ said Arthur. He scratched his head. ‘We’ve got an hour or so sailing back, haven’t we, Captain?’
‘Half that, or maybe a third,’ replied Tom. ‘The solar wind is with us now.’
‘So we come back out a few minutes after we left,’ said Arthur, as he paced lopsidedly around the bridge. ‘Surely it’ll take Grim Tuesday ten minutes to get up to your room, Captain?’
‘Depends. There are weirdways inside the Treasure Tower. If he climbs the stairs at his usual pace, it’ll be ten minutes or more.’
‘Weirdways? In the prison . . . I mean the Tower? Where?’
‘Ah, a slip of the tongue there,’ Tom said with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’ve been expressly ordered not to mention the weirdways. Can’t tell anyone where they are either, though I suppose I might nod my head or give a wink, if someone was to ask where they’re not or suchlike roundabout questions.’
‘Grim Tuesday wouldn’t put a weirdway right into the chamber with the bottles,’ said Arthur slowly, watching Tom’s face. ‘But he might put one close . . . like the cell next door . . .’
Tom slowly winked.
‘Even if someone did put a weirdway in a cell next door, they’d be sure to disguise it,’ continued Arthur. ‘Like maybe behind something on the wall. Or behind a trapdoor in the floor. Or the ceiling. Or disguised as something else –’
Tom nodded slowly at the last sentence.
‘How would you disguise the entry to a weirdway, Suzy?’ asked Arthur. ‘How are they normally disguised?’
‘Could be anything,’ snorted Suzy. She glanced at Tom and said, ‘A cup of water is quite common. Or a teapot. Or a candlestick. Sometimes a book. Or a painting. A hook on the wall. I remember an old geezer had one you got in through a coin stuck to the floor. Then there’s flowers. A loose brick. Mirrors is popular. Water closet, though that’s disgustin’ and not proper. A chest or drawer. Maybe a box of some kind. Wardrobes. Cigarette case. A pianoforte or harpsichordicle. Clocks –’
She stopped. Tom had winked at ‘clocks.’
‘So a clock in one of the neighbouring cells is the entry to a weirdway. I wonder where it comes out? I guess it must still be inside the pyramid, since Grim Tuesday is so paranoid about keeping people out.’
‘I wonder if he left the door open?’ mused Suzy.
‘You said he lifted the west side of the pyramid to get in,’ said Arthur to Tom. ‘Can you talk about that?’
‘The entire west face of the pyramid is hinged as a door,’ said Tom. ‘It’s no secret, for no one else is strong enough to lift it. Even I could not open that door. Not alone.’
‘And all my power’s gone,’ said Arthur.
‘Maybe he left it open,’ suggested Suzy. ‘He was in a hurry.’
Arthur shook his head. ‘Leave open the door to all his treasures? I doubt it.’
‘Just being optimistic,’ said Suzy. ‘You should try it. It doesn’t hurt. Least, it doesn’t hurt me.Maybe it would give you a pain in the midsection.’
Arthur ignored the comment. His mind was racing over the possibilities, trying to work out what to do.
‘We’ll have to get Grim Tuesday to open the pyramid for us,’ he said. ‘Or maybe Soot. It must have got even bigger and stronger from eating the Grim’s treasures –’
‘Ah, the Nithling,’ interrupted Tom. ‘I fear that it will not be able to serve you. I am sure that Grim Tuesday will call upon me to slay it immediately. I am surprised he did not send a telegram to that effect. It is his preferred means of communication, fitting for one so mean with words.’
‘Oh, yeah, right,’ said Arthur. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt the telegram there. He’d hoped it had become a sodden, unreadable mess, but the brightcoat had kept it dry, or had dried it out perfectly. ‘Sure. I guess you chasing around after Soot will distract Grim Tuesday anyway. That’s better than nothing . . .’
Arthur’s voice trailed off as a thought slowly rose to the front of his mind.
‘Telegrams,’ he said.
‘What?’ asked Suzy.
‘Telegrams!’
‘What about telegrams?’
Arthur clutched Tom’s sleeve. ‘If you can receive telegrams in your room, does that mean you can send them?’
‘Aye, if I’ve the coins to pay. Grim Tuesday allows nothing on account.’
‘Have you got any coins?’ asked Arthur feverishly. ‘I mean can you lend me some?’
‘Only the coins in my ears, for paying Davy Jones in case of drowning,’ said Tom, pushing back his greying hair to show two large gold coins hanging from his earlobes. ‘Superstition, I know, but I’ve grown accustomed . . . Anyways, once we’re ashore you can have the loan of one of them. I need to be keeping one, against unfortunate circumstance.’
‘Would it be enough?’ asked Arthur, eyeing the coin. It looked pretty thick and heavy. The laurel-crowned head stamped into it looked pretty smug and self-satisfied too about being on such a valuable coin. ‘To send a telegram and pay for a reply?’
‘Aye, it should.Who would you send it to?’
‘Dame Primus. Then she can send one back confirming that I’m the heir. I show that to this . . . to the sun bear. It sorts out Grim Tuesday. Everything’ll be okay!’
EIGHTEEN
‘TELEGRAM’S NOT GOOD enough,’ said the sun bear without opening its eyes. ‘When I say proper notification, I mean proper. Stamped and sealed.’
‘You’re a proper pain, aren’t you?’ commented Suzy. But theWill didn’t respond.
‘I’ll send the telegram anyway,’ said Arthur, with as much conviction as he could muster. His brilliant idea didn’t seem so brilliant now. ‘Maybe Dame Primus can help us escape from the Tower and the pyramid. Or send the proper notification some other way . . . or something. I guess we’ll just have to try to get out ourselves in the meantime. And make sure Grim Tuesday doesn’t find us.’
‘Good idea,’ said Suzy. ‘Only we can’t carry the bear. Not without the Captain.’
‘I thought I was the one who needed optimism,’ Arthur reminded her. He prodded the sun bear’s rear with the toe of his Immaterial Boot. ‘It can walk. How about that, Will? You should come with us just in case I do turn out to be the Rightful Heir, which everybody tells me I am.’
‘I’m not going anywhere till I have adequately assessed the situation,’ said the sun bear, still without opening its eyes. ‘It would not be prudent to move until I have considered all possibilities, or must comply with appropriate authority.’
‘You’re not staying on board the Helios,’ announced Tom. He turned from the wheel and stooped down to look at the sun bear. ‘Part Two of the Will, do you know who I am?’
‘No,’ said the sun bear, squeezing its eyes even more shut. ‘Nor do I care to play twenty questions to discover your dubious identity.’
Tom held out his hand. There was a rush of cold air, and his strangely dark and bright harpoon appeared in his hand. He tilted it down, till the point touched the deck a few inches from the sun bear’s nose.
Arthur and Suzy retreated to the companionway and took a few steps down, almost falling over each other in their haste.
The sun bear reluctantly opened one eye.
‘Do you know me now?’ growled Tom.
The sun bear opened its other eye, lifted its snout with obvious effort, and sniffed the air several times.
‘The Old One’s second son,’ it squeaked.
‘The Architect’s adopted son.’
‘Yes, yes,’ admitted the sun bear. ‘That is true enough.’
‘And I say Arthur is the Master of the Lower House and so must have been chosen as the Rightful Heir.’
The sun bear rolled its eyes and gave an annoyed snort.
‘Character witnesses are all very well, but I stand by my position. I will not act on behalf of anyone until I am in receipt of the correct notification from Dame Primus.’
Tom scraped the point of the harpoon across the deck towards the sun bear’s snout. It made a nerve-jangling, harmonic sound that filled the bridge and made Arthur and Suzy take several steps down the ladder.
But the sun bear did not retreat. It merely pulled back its head.
‘Nor am I moved by threats!’ it added.
‘This is not a threat, you furry backslider,’ Tom roared. ‘But if you won’t at least go along with Arthur, then I’ll see ifMother’s gift can spill some ofMother’s words out of your gizzard.’
The sun bear looked distastefully at Arthur and wrinkled its nose.
‘I suppose that I have to go somewhere, since my pleasant retreat has been destroyed. Perhaps, ipso facto, pursuant to the circumstances, I may accompany this potential heir-designate until further information is forthcoming one way or another.’
‘Pleasant retreat!’ said Arthur. ‘That was a prison – you . . . you were supposed to break out of it and do your duty. Let theWill be done, my foot!’
‘I trusted that I would be released at the correct and proper moment to fulfill my obligations,’ said the Will stiffly. ‘Certainly not rousted out by such an unorthodox . . . ahem . . . party, with such peculiar –’
‘That’s enough!’ ordered Tom. His harpoon vanished, he spun the wheel and pushed back several levers. The red dye in the central gauge ebbed away. ‘We’re almost at the mooring point. You will need to gather around me for the transfer back to the House.’
TheWill frowned, but stood up with visible effort and waddled the few steps to Tom’s feet.
‘Fat little rat,’ whispered Suzy. ‘Nothing like Part One.’
‘I guess they could all be different,’ whispered Arthur back. ‘Not that I want to find out.’
‘Stand close,’ said Tom. He reached into his pocket and drew out a silver carving fork. He frowned, returned it, and pulled out a very large silver soup spoon, rubbing it carefully against his sleeve. Then he held it up so it caught the blue light from the portholes.
‘Focus on your own reflection in the spoon,’ he instructed. ‘Don’t look at anything else. Don’t get distracted. Don’t look away. Everybody looking?’
Arthur and Suzy nodded.
The Will sighed and reared up on its hind legs, its stubby tail helping it to balance.
‘Hold it a little lower, if you please? Yes, I am looking.’
Arthur stared fixedly at the curved back of the spoon. His reflection was curved and fuzzy, mixed in with Suzy’s and the reflection of the bear. Arthur tried to concentrate on maintaining his stare, but his mind was wandering ahead, trying to think about other options. But he couldn’t think of anything other than sending the telegram to Dame Primus and trying to stay one step . . . or preferably many more steps . . . ahead of Grim Tuesday.