‘There is no more Lower House,’ said Arthur. He was trying to count the floors as they whizzed past.
‘That’s right,’ said Suzy. ‘I forgot. Oh, well.’
Arthur stared at her. How could she have forgotten that so easily? Sometimes he thought the Piper’s children were no more human than the Denizens, no matter that they’d started out as mortal kids.
Thinking about that made him forget to count.
‘Drat! I suppose it won’t matter if we’re a few floors out. The Rain Booster Tank is huge, according to that guidebook. Which I should have kept.’
‘Why do we want to go to a Rain Booster Tank?’
‘Catch some of this rain and take a very close look.’ Arthur cupped his hand to demonstrate, and Suzy followed suit, being careful not to stick her hand out too far beyond the chain, where it might get lopped off by a protrusion from an upper floor.
‘What am I looking for?’ she asked when her hand was brimful of clear water.
‘Letters and words,’ said Arthur.
‘Yes! I see ’em!’ exclaimed Suzy. ‘O-r-l-g-w-x-s-t-r-e . . . orlgwxstre . . . hmmm . . . that sounds familiar but I can’t quite put me finger on—’
‘It’s not an actual word!’ said Arthur. ‘It’s just a random, jumbled-up bit of the Will. It’s split up among all these raindrops. That’s why I need to find a place where lots of water comes together, because more, or even most, of the Sixth Part of the Will should be there.’
‘Right!’ Suzy nodded. ‘So you get it and we get out?’
‘Probably. I guess that’s still the most sensible thing to do, though I wish I knew why Saturday wants to get into the Incomparable Gardens, and why she can’t just go up an elevator. Oh, no!’
‘What!?’ Suzy looked around wildly.
‘I’ve lost count again. Maybe we’ll be able to see it, if the offices are empty.’
All the offices they had been passing were empty, but a flash of movement caught Arthur’s eye a few floors up.
‘That one was full – but they were standing at their desks, not sitting.’
‘So’s this one. What are they doing?’
The floors went by too quickly for Arthur to be sure, but as far as he could see, the offices they’d just passed were full of Denizens doing something that looked like tai chi – a formalised, slow dance, in their case performed at the side of their desks. Their umbrellas were furled too, so they were dancing in the rain, kicking up arcs of spray as they slowly turned and jumped.
‘I have no idea what they’re doing,’ said Arthur. He frowned and added, ‘I’d hoped all the Denizens would have gone off to the elevators, to head wherever they’re going. Keep an eye out for anything that might look like a water reservoir. We must be getting close.’
They went up past several more floors of sorcerers dancing at their desks, then there were more vacated floors, some with distant views of marching sorcerers heading off further into the interior of the tower.
‘You look that way, I’ll look the other,’ Arthur said. ‘I’ve got confused about which way is north. I really should have kept that guidebook. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘That Alyse needed it?’ asked Suzy. ‘Zounds! Is that it?’
Arthur spun around, which was not a good thing to do when travelling quite fast inside the link of a vast, moving chain. He nearly lost his balance, and fell against Suzy, who staggered into the side of the link and almost lost her grip on the ring.
Recovering his stance, Arthur saw a glass wall some distance inside the tower, a glass wall that shimmered blue from the water inside it. The wall and the water continued up as they rose through the next floor, and the next.
‘Do we keep going?’ asked Suzy.
‘To the top of it,’ answered Arthur, who was counting very intently now. ‘Get ready, it’s forty-nine floors high.’
They stepped off at the forty-ninth floor, expecting to see either empty offices or offices with working sorcerers. But the office units here were not furnished with desks. Each ten-by-ten-foot office had a small lounge in it, and a standing lamp. The lounges were covered in different fabrics, ranging from black leather to bright floral patterns, and the standing lamps had matching shades.
‘Artful Lounger territory,’ whispered Suzy.
‘Yep,’ said Arthur. He looked around keenly. ‘But there aren’t any here.’
He started off towards the water tank. Though the rain obscured his view, he could see the clear glass wall of the tank through several floors, and the open top of it up ahead, with its rain-dappled surface of clean blue water. It looked like an enormous aquarium, and Arthur wondered if there were fish in it. Or other things . . .
‘So do yer just stick your hand in, or what?’ asked Suzy as they reached the edge of the huge tank and looked across the expanse of water.
We’re ten thousand feet up a tower, and this water ‘tank’ is about five hundred feet deep, thought Arthur, with a surface area that’s about equal to sixteen Olympic pools. That’s some water storage!
He bent down and dipped his hand in the water. Immediately he felt Part Six of the Will speak directly into his mind.
Arthur! I need your help to gather myself. Come into the water! There is no time to lose!
SEVENTEEN
‘IT WANTS ME to go into the water,’ Arthur told Suzy. He looked at the rain splashes and then back at the empty lounges behind them.
‘So it’s here?’ Suzy asked. She kept looking back too.
‘Yes,’ said Arthur. ‘I suppose I’d better go in. You keep watch.’
Suzy nodded and drew her wrench, slapping the heavy adjustable head against her open hand.
Five hundred feet deep, thought Arthur. That’s waaaay too deep . . . but I have to get the Will.
Steeling himself, Arthur slid off the latticed iron floor and into the water. It was cold, but not as cold as he’d expected. It was definitely not as cold as it should have been that high up, but then neither was the air. Saturday might like the rain, but she clearly didn’t want the cold of an earthly high altitude.
Good! the Will chimed in. Swim to the middle and call me!
Arthur trod water for a few minutes. He’d done lifesaving classes, and had swum in his clothes before, but not with his boots on. He was about to kick them off, but decided not to. He wasn’t having any trouble staying afloat. Possibly because he wasn’t having any trouble breathing, and his strength and endurance were far greater than they’d ever been.
He struck out for the middle, using br**ststroke rather than freestyle so he could see where he was going. It was slower, but safer. Halfway there, he rolled over on his back and did some backstroke so he could see Suzy. She waved, and he waved back.
Good work, Arthur! Now, call me with your mind.
Arthur trod water and watched the rain, visualising the tiny fragments of the Will that lay inside each raindrop.
Part Six of the Will of the Architect, attend upon me, Arthur the Rightful Heir, he thought, his brow furrowed in concentration. Join together and come to me!
Long threads of type began to glow and flow through the water, twining together like the tendrils of luminous sea plants. The rain shone with an inner light and began to drive towards Arthur rather than falling straight down through the latticework floors. Up above him, drips and drops that had been caught on the floors sprang into motion, rolling and spreading to the nearest gap to fall again.
Sixty floors below Arthur, a sorcerer stared at her mirror in amazement. She hesitated for a moment, then opened a small, secret drawer in the middle of her desk and depressed a dusty bronze button.
Around her, mirrors flashed. Denizens who had been paying scant attention leaned forward, snapping books shut and dropping pens. Above their heads, the pneumatic message tubes suddenly puffed and coughed, and red capsules began to fall upon the desks.
On the floors where the sorcerers danced, they all stopped in mid-beat. Umbrellas were snapped open, chairs dragged back as they sat down, and thousands of small mirrors were turned for better viewing.
Higher up the tower, as high as you could get for now, until the assault ram was raised, a telephone rang and was picked up by a milk-white, silky hand.
Arthur watched the threads of type weave themselves through the water, and he kept calling the Will inside his head. Slowly, the lines of type began to take on a shape, the shape of a large bird. It turned a dark colour, a shining black, and its beak, head and ruffled neck rose up out of the water.
‘Good, Lord Arthur,’ croaked the raven. One text-wrought wing fluttered above the surface, while the other was still unformed threads of type. ‘I am almost complete. A little more rain must fall and be gathered in.’
‘Arthur!’
Arthur looked back to Suzy. She was pointing with her wrench.
‘Artful Loungers! Lots of them!’
‘A few more minutes,’ said the raven. ‘Keep calling me, Lord Arthur!’
Arthur tried to jump up so he could see what Suzy saw, but even with his hardest kicking he could only just raise up seven inches or so. But that was enough. All around the offices beyond the reservoir, Artful Loungers were crawling out from under the lounges. They had been there all along, hidden and quiescent.
Now they were advancing on Suzy, with their curved blue-steel swords and Nothing-poison stilettos of crystal.
Suzy flicked her rain-mantle behind her back and raised her wrench.
‘Concentrate, Arthur! Call me!’ said Part Six.
Arthur dove forward and broke into his fastest freestyle stroke.
‘Arthur! I can’t escape without you!’
Arthur ignored the raven and swam faster, piercing the water like a dolphin. But even though he was swimming faster than he ever had, after a dozen strokes he was no closer to the side, and after a dozen more, he felt himself being pulled very strongly back. Rolling over, he was pushed sideways as well. As he swirled about, he felt a powerful tug at his ankles.
He was in a whirlpool. The water was running out of the tank, and he was going with it.
‘Suzy!’ yelled Arthur. The water had sunk so quickly and he was being twirled around so fast that he could only see Suzy’s head. ‘Use your wings. Fly aw—’
Water filled his mouth. Flailing wildly, Arthur barely managed to get himself above the surface again. The suction was incredible, the action of tons and tons of water drawn into a ten-thousand-foot-high drain. Desperately he looked back, but he couldn’t see Suzy, only the glitter of Artful Lounger swords, and through water-filled ears he heard the crash of metal and shouts and a single, cut-off scream.
Then he could only think of himself. He was drowning, his lungs filling with water as he was inexorably dragged below the surface. All his fears of a long, slow underwater death were coming true.
He scrabbled at his belt pouch, thrusting his fingers in to touch the Fifth Key through the bag, not trying to get it out, for if he did, he knew he would lose it for sure. He felt its power, weak though it was through the shielding metalcloth, and focussed his mind to use its sorcery, only to be flung around so violently that his arms were twisted behind him and he was up-ended, diving headfirst down the drain.
Water completely filled his lungs and the last, pathetic bubble of air left his mouth.
I refuse to die, thought Arthur. I am no longer human. I am the Rightful Heir of the Architect. I am going to breathe the water.
He opened his mouth and took a deep, refreshing intake of water. All his choking sensations vanished, and his mouth, twisted moments ago in a panicked, silent scream, smoothed into something that was not quite a smile. He took another breath of water and pirouetted so he was upright, rushing feetfirst rather than headfirst down what must be an enormous pipe.
Suzy was probably only taken prisoner, he told himself. I’ll survive this and rescue her. It will be all right . . .
The water rushing him down suddenly changed direction. Arthur hit something very, very hard. He screamed, but no sound came out, just a blast of water from his mouth. Then he was picked up again and slammed even harder, bumping and scraping as the water surged and corkscrewed, carrying him with it.
Still screaming, Arthur curled up into a ball to protect himself – and, like a ball, was swept on and on, down and along the huge stormwater pipe that switchbacked its way through and down ten thousand feet.
It took half an hour for the water to reach the bottom. In that time, Arthur was smashed a hundred times against the sides of the pipe. He hurt terribly, all over, but the awful passage that would have killed any mortal at its beginning did not kill him.
At the bottom, the huge pipe spat out a waterfall that cascaded into a vast, under-floor lake, carved out of the bulwark rock under the Upper House. Arthur fell through the waterfall, sank to the bottom, and just lay there until the pains that wracked him diminished from the level of blinding stabs to a steady, debilitating ache.
It still hurt to move, but Arthur forced himself to swim up to the surface. Breaking out of the water, he was afraid he might not be able to breathe air, but he could, and it felt no different from when he was breathing the water.
Arthur wearily trod water and looked around. He could see the huge pipe and the waterfall that still cascaded from it, but little else. There was fog, or steam, obscuring everything. As the water drained from his ears, he became aware of sound, the dull, repetitive thud of mighty engines.
Back under the floor, he thought. In the middle of a lot of water. Must be the Central Rain Reservoir . . .
‘Part Six?’ Arthur croaked. ‘Will. Are you here too?’
A raven head emerged from the water, but it was not glossy and black, and there were blank lines where parts of it were missing. It opened its beak and croaked, ‘Most of me is here, Lord Arthur, but some fragments are yet to arrive. In fact, I believe the few paragraphs that make up my tail are still falling as rain and will not arrive here for an hour or more.’