One Who Survived the Darkness was waiting near the exit to the outer air. She knelt before the Will, who flew over and sat on her head. The two spoke quietly—too quietly for Arthur to hear—and then the Will flew back to the boy’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” said Arthur, his words soon echoed by Suzy and Fred.

The Servant made a simple sign, bowed deeply, and retreated back up the passage.

“I know that sign,” said Suzy. “That was good-bye.”

“It was farewell,” said Fred. “Which is not quite the same.”

“It was ‘fly far,’ actually,” said the Will. “With a dash of ‘fly fast’—which we had best do. Perhaps I shall grow a little and shield my eyes against the sunlight.”

The Will jumped off Arthur’s shoulder and before it had landed, it was about the same size as the boy. It had also grown tinted inner eyelids, which it flicked up and down in a disturbing fashion.

“I’ll go first,” said Arthur. “Just in case. I need to warn them too, that Fred’s wing might fail.”

“No it won’t,” said the Will. “He’d have to lose a lot more feathers for that.”

“I’ll still go first,” said Arthur. “To ... um ... smooth the way.”

“The Gilded Youths will recognize me for what I am,” said the Will, correctly interpreting Arthur’s caution.

“But Ugham might not, and he’s quick with a spear,” said Arthur. “Wait a moment before you come out.”

Ugham and the Gilded Youths were still circling outside.

Arthur stood on the edge of the crevasse and called out to them, warning them of the Will’s appearance. Then he dove out, spreading his wings as he fell, to swoop back up and join the aerial company.

Suzy came next, then the Will, then Fred, all launching safely. The Will immediately began to climb up towards the Scriptorium on the peak. Arthur followed it, with Suzy and Fred flapping strongly to catch up—and to stay away from Ugham, who swooped over to them and cast reproach­ful looks without openly berating them for running out on him. The Newnith had a strong practical streak, thought Arthur. He would try to fulfill his duty but didn’t obsess over past infractions. Or so Arthur hoped.

A few hundred feet short of the peak, the Will slowed down and twisted around.

“Preparation is the first part of practice!” it called back. “What?” asked Suzy.

“Ready weapons,” ordered Fifteen, taking out a short, deeply curved bow from the case at her side and a stubby arrow from the sheath on her leg. “Notch arrows.”

Forty Gilded Youths followed her example in smooth motion.

“Ten high, ten left, ten right, ten with,” commanded Fifteen. The Gilded Youths split into groups as ordered, ten of them staying with Arthur and their leader.

The Scriptorium didn’t look like much, Arthur thought as they reached the mountaintop and climbed up still higher before swooping down. There was a flat place the size of a tennis court on the very crest, and on that small area was a round, onion-domed building. The dome was gilded, which was somewhat impressive, but the foil had flaked off in many places to reveal the wooden tiles under­neath. The walls were yellow plaster and they too needed repair. The building had no obvious windows.

There were a lot of bodies clustered around the single door. Arthur hovered, looking for any Piper’s children that he recognized. But the bodies were all Denizens, presum­ably Saturday’s Internal Auditors. They were dressed in black nineteenth-century-style long coats and wore long powdered wigs. Most clutched swords whose blades looked like enlarged and elongated fountain pen nibs.

“No match for the Piper,” said Suzy.

“Indeed,” said the Will. “The Piper is a most powerful individual. But we have me, and Lord Arthur has a Key. Onward!”

It swooped down, landing in front of the door. One of the Internal Auditors who had been lying there, apparently dead, immediately jumped up and pointed his sword, more like a gun than a medieval weapon. The Will chuckled and dived under the stream of Activated Ink that sprayed from the nib. Then he leaped up and bit the Auditor on the elbow. The Denizen sighed, dropped his weapon, and then dropped himself like a boneless fish.

“One way to do it,” said Suzy, clearly impressed.

Arthur landed in a whirl of wings and Gilded Youths. Ten stayed aloft as the others came down and formed up around him, Fred, and Suzy. There were so many of them standing so close that Arthur had trouble getting to the door, which the Will was already going through.

The Piper was waiting for them inside, standing alone in a ring of dead Piper’s children and the motionless body of a superior Denizen, one who had once worn the immac­ulate clothes of a Victorian dandy, his dark red waistcoat stained with his own blue blood. A broken ebony stick lay at his side, his smashed-in top hat next to it.

The Piper’s children were the ones who had gone with Arthur on the ill-fated raid to stop the Spike in the Great Maze. Arthur recognized them immediately: Quicksilver, Gluepot, Yellowbristle, Awning, Halfcut, Sable, and Ermine.

The Piper’s own yellow greatcoat was rent in several places as if torn by weapons, but there was no sign of him being actually wounded. His steel mask hid his face as always, abetted by the Napoleon hat of black oilskin. He held his wooden pipes in his gloved right hand. His left hand was also gloved, but empty.

Beyond the Piper, the room was empty, save for a slim spire of dark stone that rose up to waist-level. On it sat a shining silver mirror that Arthur knew was supposed to be the Key.

One of the Piper’s children on the floor moved. Arthur took a breath, only in that second noticing that he had not been breathing.

“They’re alive!” said Fred.

“Saturday’s minion overrated his power to kill against my own,” said the Piper easily. His voice was almost as melodious as it had been before Part Four of the Will had spat acid at him.

He inclined his head to Arthur. “I see you have once again brought the thing that calls itself the Will against me, Arthur.”

“It’s a different part,” Arthur replied. He didn’t take his eyes off the Piper, though he wasn’t sure what he would, or could, do if he raised his pipes. “I didn’t know what Part Four was going to do. I’d told it not to do anything poisonous.”

“I suppose you expect to claim the Fifth Key too?” said the Piper.

“I will,” said Arthur. “But that’s not the Key. Friday’s tried to trick us into fighting each other. It’s kind of worked too.”

“You say that is not the Key?” asked the Piper. “But you are here, with the Will and a force of lovely Gilded Youths. They are fine, are they not? They are mine too, you know, in essence.”

The Piper’s words were not just words. Arthur could almost see the power in them, and he saw Fifteen flinch as the Piper spoke.

“Yes, ultimate master Piper,” said Fifteen. The Gilded Youths with her breathily echoed her words in a whispered chorus.

“Not to mention Banneret Ugham,” continued the Piper. He made a small motion with his left hand, and Ugham strode over to the Piper’s side.

Arthur kept his gaze on the Piper.

One lunge to the heart, he thought, if he raises the pipespipes—

“This is all rather tedious and besides the point,” said the Will. “That isn’t the Key, you know. Moreover, it is almost certainly a trap of a very nasty kind. We would all do better to leave and carry on whatever we must discuss outside.”

The Piper ignored the Will.

“Ugham, fetch me the mirror from that stand of stone.”

“Don’t,” said Arthur. “It’s a trap. Besides, if it was the Key, it would kill you!”

Ugham nodded. “We know that our prince loves us not, save that we serve him. But he made us, and that is not a debt easy to repay. We serve with what honor we may retain. One slight matter remains, before I take up yonder—”

“I said to pick up that mirror, Ugham,” interrupted the Piper. He had not moved, the steel mask facing Arthur, the dark holes where eyes might lie in line with Arthur’s gaze.

“You do not wish to hear of a matter of import, milord?” asked Ugham.

“Get on with it!” said the Piper, his voice cracking.

Ugham nodded again, bent down, and put his spear, knuckle-duster knife, and sword on the floor. Then he reached inside his coat and put a small, folded piece of paper under the knife. Standing up, he looked Arthur in the face, and his third eye, above his forehead, winked.

“Don’t do it, Uggie!” said Suzy. She started forward, but Arthur grabbed her elbow and hauled her back.

“Wisely done, Arthur,” said the Piper. His voice was smooth again, but so loaded with menace that Arthur felt like he was in a room with a bomb. He had no idea of the

Piper’s full powers but he wasn’t confident about taking him on, even with the Fourth Key and the Will at his side. Not with the Gilded Youths arrayed against him as well.

Not to mention one sound of that pipe and Suzy and Fred will be stopped cold, Arthur thought.

Ugham saluted the Piper, but the salute also encom­passed Arthur, Suzy, and Fred. Then he quickly strode over to the stone plinth, reached over, and picked up the mirror.

There was no immediate result. Ugham’s shoulders relaxed a little, he took half a step back, he began to turn—and the stone floor beneath his feet groaned and shifted and then it wasn’t there, an area ten feet in diameter replaced by a whirling vortex of Nothing.

In the instant the floor disappeared, Ugham was destroyed. He had no time to react or cry out; he was instantly dis­solved into the pure darkness of Nothing.

Everyone else in the room only had a few seconds more. The vortex spun wider, stones falling into it as it spread.

The Piper was the first to react. With his pipes he sketched steps in the air, creating an entrance to the Improbable Stair. He jumped onto it as the floor beneath his feet ceased to exist.

Everyone else, including most of the unconscious Piper’s children on the floor, was suddenly swept out of the way by an enormous scaly tail. Knocked head over heels, Arthur found himself being dragged over a knocked-down wall as the Will simultaneously grew large, smashed the wall down, and pulled the contents of the room, includ­ing Arthur, to temporary safety.

But it was only a brief respite. The vortex was still expanding. Gilded Youths sprang into the air in a panic around Arthur as he struggled to his feet. Suzy was trying to pick up Quicksilver, and Fred had his arms around Sable, his wings flapping in a frenzy.

“The Key, Arthur!” roared the Will. “Use the Key. This is a breach into the Void itself!”
Chapter Twenty-Three

Arthur balanced on the very edge of the mountain, his wings extended, and raised the Fourth Key. It stayed in its baton shape, but shone with an internal light that reflected back from the crocodile ring, more gold than silver.

The vortex spread towards Arthur. Almost the entire top of the mountain was a dark absence now, and Arthur instinctively knew that as the breach into the Void spread outwards it also expanded down, eating the substance of the House.

He concentrated on the vortex and on the Key, build­ing a picture in his mind of how it had looked when he’d flown up only minutes before.

“Be as you were,” he said. “The House rebuilt, the Nothing banished.”

The Key grew hot in his hand but the Nothing contin­ued to spread, though more slowly.

I can’t do it! thought Arthur, panic suddenly filling him. His concentration slipped. The Nothing began to spread more quickly, smoothly destroying everything as it lapped towards his feet. The Fourth Key isn’t strong enough in the Middle House! I need the Fifth Key and I haven’t got it!

You can do it, you know, came a thought, directly into his head. He knew it was Part Five of the Will and though it was only a mental touch, the Beast still sounded calm and relaxed. You’re Lord Arthur, you know. Wielder of Four Keys, though you might only hold one in your hand. Think of them all as being with you. Combined, they will have more than power enough.

Arthur grimaced and imagined the clock-hand sword of the First Key, heavy at his side. The rough feel of the gauntlets of the Second Key on his hands. The trident of the Third Key at his belt, and the heavy baton of the Fourth Key in his strong right hand.

“Begone!” instructed Lord Arthur, and the Nothing was gone, and the mountaintop was all bare, polished stone, save for a rim of debris around the edge, where the Will had swept as much as it could with its tail.

Arthur blinked and looked at his hands. He was actually wearing the gauntlets of the Second Key. The clock-hand First Key was at his side. The Third Key was thrust through his belt.

“How ... how did I do that?” he whispered.

“Don’t ask me,” said Suzy as she landed at his side. “But I reckon Dame Primus is going to be pretty miffed.”

“I think I will understand the circumstance,” said the Will as it landed on Arthur’s shoulder, parrot-sized once more. “Once I can get together with myself. That breach could have destroyed the whole Middle House.”

“Right,” said Arthur dazedly. “I have to stop saying that, don’t I? Particularly when I mean wrong .... Ugham’s dead .... The Piper’s children ...”

“Quicksilver and Sable are here,” said Fred somberly, who was crouched by the two children. “They seem to be just asleep. But the others ...”

He gestured at the shallow, smooth-walled crater that had been carved by the Nothing breach.

“The Gilded Youths?” asked Arthur. He couldn’t see them anywhere above.