Keys To The Kingdom_ Sir Thursday Part 12

She spoke in a conversational tone, not the barking-order voice Arthur and Fred were used to. Her candor was unexpected, but they didn't want to push it, choosing to remain silent. Both were surprised when the corporal spoke again, just as the column wheeled to avoid the worst remnants of battle, in the middle of the parade ground.

"There's going to be a lot more fighting with that lot. This current campaig n is not like any other. You all did well, but this was an easy battle. We o utnumbered them and they were already tired."

We have to fight again? Arthur thought. He felt a stab of fear rise up from his stomach, so strong that it almost made him throw up. He fought it down. Of course, we're soldiers, hut that was so horrible How can we do it againhow can I do it again?

The recruits were not dismissed when the force was halted at the clear, rear part of the parade ground. Instead, each platoon was sent on particular dutie s. Most were to pick up the dead, salvage usable equipment, and clear up. Art hur and Fred stood at attention, waiting for their platoon to get its orders. After Corporal Urmink left, they also talked to each other quietly out of th e sides of their mouths.

"We were lucky to be ordered out of the front line," said Arthur.

"We were," Fred agreed. "I wonderI wonder if everyone else got through al l right."

They were silent for a while, thinking about that, as platoons turned and m arched off around them. There were only sixty or seventy recruits left on t he parade ground now, and none at all around Fred and Arthur, unless there were more behind where they couldn't see.

Finally, they recognized the voice of Sergeant Helve, ordering Two Platoon t o form up in front of their barracks. "What was that you shouted when the battle started?" asked Fred as they ma rched towards their barracks.

"My real name," said Arthur. "It'swellI think I'm supposed to keep it se cret for some reason. It came back to me, just as the enemy attacked. Only I can't remember anything more. Just the name."

"Is that everyone!" asked Fred as they approached the barracks. There was a very short line in front of the door. Half of the platoon was missing. It to ok Arthur several seconds to work out that this meant they were probably dea d or at the least wounded badly enough to require treatment.

"That can't be everyone," whispered Fred as they got closer. "Denizens are t oo hard to kill "

"Green and Gold, fall in!" ordered Helve, but he didn't scream like he norma lly did.

Arthur and Fred quickly joined the end of the line. Rannifer wasn't at the oth er end. Florimel was there instead, now the tallest.

"You fought well," said Helve, again in an almost conversational tone. "As I expected you to. We've got the plum a.s.signment now. Colonel Huwiti has orde red that as a reward, there will be a special mail call tonight. So you won' t have to wait another three months. And since you've fought today as soldie rs, there's going to be a rum ration as well though not for you Piper's ch ildren, I'm sorry to say. Don't know why not, but it's expressly ordered so.

"We've been detailed to pick up the mail and take it to the mess hall. As th ere is still some danger of Nithling attack, we will stack shields here but keep savage-swords. That doesn't mean you get out of cleaning them or your o ther weapons or yourselves. We'll do a quick clean now and finish up properl y later."

The cleaning took fifteen minutes. Arthur was glad to remove at least some o f the visible evidence of battle, though in his mind he could still picture Nithling blood on the blade of his savage-sword.

Helve did not leave them time to think after the immediate cleaning was don e. "Platoon, by the left, quick march! Left wheel! Keep in step, Lanven!"

"He didn't mention what happened to the others," whispered Fred to Arthur. T hey were fairly safe talking, as they were right at the back, with Helve mar ching at the front.

Helve directed the platoon to a building Arthur hadn't been to before. The re were a lot of buildings at Fort Transformation he hadn't been into. Lik e the Mess Hall. He hadn't even known there was one. This building had the ubiquitous red-and-black sign on the door, which read POST POST OFFICE.

Like the barracks, the Post Post Office was larger inside than it was outsid e. It appeared to be completely empty, save for a long wooden counter that h ad a bell on it. Helve halted the platoon, then marched up and smacked the b ell with his palm. This had an immediate response. A Denizen in a dark green uniform Arthur recognized as Commissary field dress leaped up from behind the counter.

"We're closed!" he said with a sniff. Arthur was amazed that a mere Commis sary corporal would dare to speak to Sergeant Helve in such a manner. Part icularly as the sergeant's cuira.s.s was dented in several places and smeare d with Nithling blood. "Come back in three months!"

Helve's hand shot across the counter and gripped the Commissary corporal b y the top b.u.t.ton of his tunic, preventing him from sliding back down again .

"The COs ordered a special mail call, Corporal. Don't you read your orders? "

"That's different, then," said the corporal. "Mail for the entire recruit battali on?"

"That's right," said Helve. He let the corporal go with a tw.a.n.g that threaten ed to separate b.u.t.ton from tunic. "The whole battalion."

"Coming up," said the corporal. He retrieved a piece of paper from under th e counter, got out a quill pen and inkwell, and quickly wrote on it. He the n marched out from behind the counter to the empty s.p.a.ce beyond and threw t he paper into the air.

An instant later, there was a deafening rumble. The corporal jumped back a s a dozen six-foot-tall canvas mail-bags thudded down out of nowhere.

"That's it," said the corporal. "Help yourself."

With those words, he sank behind the counter again.

"Grab those bags," said Helve. "One each. Green and Gold, you take one be tween you."

The sergeant picked up two of the bags, one under each arm, without apparent difficulty. Arthur and Fred found it hard to even lift one off the ground, but once they got it balanced it wasn't as immovable as they'd feared.

"Stay in line and look orderly," said Helve. "We'll stay off the parade grou nd. Round the back to the Mess Hall."

Arthur was not all that surprised to discover that he'd never seen the Mess Hall, because it was not a building at Fort Transformation. It was like the washroom, reached by a weirdway in the outside wall of an armory.

Lugging their mailbags, the platoon lumbered along the weirdway, eventually emerging in a room so large that Arthur couldn't see the walls, though the re was a ceiling fifty or sixty feet up. Like the washroom, the Mess Hall w as populated by ghostly images of thousands of other soldiers, most of them sitting on benches alongside trestle tables laden with food and drink.

Unlike the washroom, these tables were labeled, each one having a sign on it for a particular unit.

"Fort Transformation Recruit Battalion" was about fifty tables directly in from the weirdway entrance. As they marched through, Arthur noticed that a lot of the ghostly soldiers were visibly wounded. There were many bandages, crutches, eye patches, and very new scars. And most of the unit tables wer e considerably less than fully occupied.

It was not the picture painted by The Recruit's Companion, Arthur thought wit h a sinking heart. In the book everything was clean and spotless, and the ill ustrated soldiers positively radiated health, fitness, and contentment.

Fred and Arthur were very weary by the time they got to their own spot, and t hey almost didn't have the strength to haul their bag onto a table.

"Open them up," said Helve. "We don't have to go back immediately. We migh t as well get our mail before the rush."

The bags were opened, cascades of mail pouring out onto the tables. Then sudd enly a letter left the cascade, flew through the air, and struck one of the r ecruits sharply on her helmet. She reached up and caught it, exclaiming in de light. "I got a letter!"

Ten seconds later, a brown-paper parcel ricocheted off Florimel's armor an d into her hands. It was followed by an envelope for Fred, and soon everyo ne except Arthur had something. Even Sergeant Helve had received a small p ink envelope decorated with flowers.

"I won't get anything," said Arthur. He didn't know why he knew that, but he did.

Even as he spoke, a large, buff-colored envelope smacked him in the face. A rthur reeled back onto a bench and found himself sitting down with the enve lope in his hands.

It was addressed to Arthur Penhaligon, which confirmed the name he had remembered.

Arthur opened it. The letter was written on the inside of the envelope, so he had to crack the seams and smooth it out, which was quite difficult. It was very heavy paper. The letter was handwritten in pale silver ink.

Dear Arthur, An agent of ours has your parents under its control. Unless you immediately relinquish the Keys to Us and give up all claims to being the Rightful Heir, we will have our agent cleanse their minds of all knowledge of you. Our agent will also do this to your brothers and sisters and your frien ds. It will be as if you were never born, your home will continue to physical ly exist, but you will have no place in it. As we believe that you desire to return to a merely mortal existence, you should consider this as an opportuni ty. Simply sign on the dotted below and everything will be taken care of.

Sat.u.r.day, Most Superior Denizen of the Upper Mouse Arthur read the letter again, but he couldn't make sense of it. He was a Pi per's child. Whatever parents or family he might have had were long dead, s omewhere in the Secondary Realms. And as far as he knew, he had no desire t o return to some kind of mortal existence. "This is good," said Fred, tapping his own letter. "From my old mates bac k in Gilding Workshop Seventeen. Bringing back lots of memories. Who's yo ur letter from, Ray?"

"I'm not sure," said Arthur. "I think it's a hoax. Only1 do feel as if it's triggered some memory just out of reach. Something about keys"

"Right, that's enough loafing," ordered Sergeant Helve. "There's more clean ing to be done. And preparation for tomorrow's lessons."

Arthur stuffed his letter into his pouch and stood up. He was just in time a s Helve suddenly snapped, "Stand fast!" swiveled on the spot, and saluted an officer who Arthur had seen coming but had dismissed as one of the ghostly figures of another unit.

"Thank you, Sergeant," said the officer. Close up, it was easy to see he was one of the lieutenants who had talked with Colonel Huwiti before the battle . His helmet plume was rather ragged now, and he'd been cut down the arm. Bl ue blood had dried in a line from shoulder to wrist, surrounded by scorch ma rks. On a mortal, it would have been an incapacitating injury. The lieutenan t seemed little bothered by it, returning Helve's salute with only a slight stiffness.

"I'm taking your two Piper's children," said the lieutenant. "Orders came in just before the battle. From the very top. All Piper's children to report t o GHQ immediately. Have they had their Not-Horse riding lessons yet?" No, we haven't, thought Arthur with a sinking heart.

Chapter Seventeen

No!" Leaf cried out. "No message but hey! Don't hang up! Put me throug h to Suzy Turquoise Blue, please."

"Please hold," said the Operator.

A stab of pain hit Leaf behind the right eye as the Operator spoke, and her left hand wriggled without any conscious direction. It was horrible, as if t he hand itself had become imbued with a life of its own. But Leaf knew what was happening.

The mold was established inside her brain and now it was checking its contro l. The Skinless Boy might already be able to see through Leaf's eyes, hear t hrough her ears, feel what she felt. "h.e.l.lo. Suzy here."

"Suzy! It's Leaf. I've got the pocket, but the mold the Skinless Boy's men tal mold is in my head! And I can't get back to the House!"

"Well done!" said Suzy. Her voice faded, and Leaf heard her say, "She has it, Sneezer. Set the dials!"

"I need help," said Leaf. "I know you're not supposed "

Her left hand was flopping about like a stranded fish, but so far it was the only limb affected. The pain behind her eye was no worse but it wasn't getti ng any better either.

"Who cares about that!" exclaimed Suzy, talking away from the receiver and then into it again. "I'm coming through. Hurry, Sneezer!"

The phone abruptly hung up, the dial tone returning. Leaf dropped it back in th e box, then used her right hand to restrain her flailing left arm before she hu rt herself. Her arm didn't fight against her, as Leaf had half-feared, but the strange sensation she'd first felt in that limb was starting to occur in her ri ght leg as well.

"Come on, Suzy!" Leaf whispered. She had an idea of what to do to save herse lf, but first she had to get rid of the pocket. The mold was taking over so fast!

The door opened and Leaf choked on a gasp, because it wasn't Suzy. It was a teenage girl, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Arthur's sister. The youngest o ne. Michaeli.

"What are you doing here?" asked Michaeli. "Who are you?"

"Friend of Arthur's!" said Leaf, but her mouth wasn't working properly be cause her lips and tongue were suddenly partially numb so it came out as, "Fiend up Arfloor."

"What?" asked the girl. She had a cell phone in her hand, thumb poised over what was probably a speed-dial b.u.t.ton for the police.

"Arthur!" burst out Leaf, speaking slower so she could be understood. "I'm a friend of Arthur's!"

"What are you doing here?" repeated Michaeli. She hadn't pressed the b.u.t.t on. "And what's wrong with you?"

"Arthur sent me," said Leaf. "Got Grayspot."

Michaeli recoiled in horror, backing out the door so fast she ended up against the corridor wall on the other side.

"Not contagious," said Leaf, spoiling her words by losing control of her leg and falling on the floor, where she writhed around in a desperate struggle with her own body.

Michaeli screamed then, but it wasn't because of Leaf's contortions. Suzy T urquoise Blue had materialized in the corridor, and she was wearing pale ye llow wings that were fully extended, tip feathers touching the ceiling and walls. She also had a Metal Commissionaire's truncheon in her hand, an appa rently wooden club that was covered in crawling blue sparks.

"What's going on?!" screamed Michaeli. She had dropped her phone, Leaf wa s pleased to see.

"I'm a friend of Arthur's," said Suzy. She folded her wings and bent over Le af, gesturing with the truncheon in her hand. "Do I need to knock you out wi th this, Leaf?"

"Not yet," chattered Leaf. Her jaw was moving of its own accord. But her r ight arm was still her own. She made contact with her jeans and tried to p ull out the box with the sorcerous pocket, but her legs kept thrashing awa y. "Thanks coming so quick." "I've been watching through Seven Dials," said Suzy. "Off and on, after th e Army n.o.bs knocked me back. Got to do something useful, even if old Prime y objects."

She suddenly transferred the truncheon to her belt and put her booted foot on Leaf's thigh, stopping her spasms. Then she reached down and took the pl astic box.

Leaf's arms whipped around to try to s.n.a.t.c.h the box back as Suzy took the s orcerous pocket, confirming Leaf's worst fears. The Skinless Boy could see what she saw. It would probably be only minutes before it had total control of her body.

"Taketo House," she said. "Quickly."

"What about you?" asked Suzy.

"Knock me out," whispered Leaf. Her right hand was starting to crawl acros s the floor to Suzy's foot. "Tell Sylvie in ambulance. Get sedate"

"The old lady in the conveyance with the light on top?" asked Suzy, but she was really only talking to distract Leaf as she whipped out the truncheon and tapped her on the shoulder. There was a sharp crack, and a river of blu e sparks ran up and down Leaf's body, from toe to head. Every muscle in her body spasmed, and her eyes rolled back.

"You've killed her!" cried Michaeli from the doorway. She'd picked up a br oom from somewhere and was brandishing it with a technique that suggested past lessons in kendo or perhaps a role in a stage musical of Robin Hood.

"No, I haven't," protested Suzy, keeping a wary eye on the broomstick. "You' re Arthur's sister Michaeli, right?"

"Yes"

"I'm Suzy Turquoise Blue. You might say I'm Arthur's chief a.s.sistant."

"His what? What is going on?"

"No time to explain," said Suzy airily. "Could you nip down to the what d'y e call it, ambulance, outside and tell the old lady that Leaf needs to be ta ken care of. I must hasten away."

"But"

Michaeli lowered the broom a little. Suzy took this as an invitation and ging erly edged past, her wings flapping a little. A few feathers brushed Michaeli 's face, making the other girl jump.

"Those wingsthey are real!"

"I should hope so," said Suzy. "Best you can get.

Hopefully the owner won't miss 'em before I get back. Which way is the Eas tern Hospital?"

"Uh, East Area? Kind of that way," said Michaeli, pointing.

"Thank you," said Suzy. "And your roof garden lies beyond that door?"

Michaeli nodded, bewilderment plain on her face. "Where are you going?" s he asked.