Lord Sunday

“It’s so nice up here,” he said. “Particularly without the rain. I really do think ten thousand years of rain is a bit much. My socks might even dry if it stays fine.”

“Be even better with a game of draughts,” said Suzy. “You don’t have to untie me. Just swing me in and I’ll call out the moves. Then, if one of your lot shows up, you can swing me out again and they’ll be none the wiser.”

“I suppose I could…” Giac put the book down and peered at the workings of the crane. “I wonder if it’s this wheel…or perhaps this lever?”

“No! Not the lever!” shouted Suzy.

Giac withdrew his hand, which had been just about to pull the lever that would release the hook and send Suzy plummeting down to certain death.

“Must be the wheel, then,” he said. He started to turn it and the crane responded, rotating on its pivot until Suzy was brought back to dangle above the floor of the veranda.

“Good work,” said Suzy. “I s’pose you still don’t want to touch Noon’s set?”

Giac nodded.

“Well, get a piece of paper and draw us up a draughtboard.”

As Giac got some paper and a quill pen out of the closer desk, Suzy spun herself slightly away from the Denizen so that he couldn’t see her as she wriggled two fingers under the rope around her waist, feeling inside one of the pockets of her utility belt. She could only reach one pocket and she knew there was nothing as useful as a knife in there. Still, ever optimistic, she thought there might be something. It was an effort, but she did manage to get a grip on a cake of best-quality waterless soap. Slowly she drew it up into her hand.

Bloomin’ soap, she thought. What am I going to do with that?

“This will serve,” said Giac. He set out a sheet of thick paper on the floor near Suzy’s feet and quickly drew up the board. “I’ll rip up some more paper to make the draughts. Do you want to be blue or white?”

“Blue,” said Suzy. As she rotated around again she manoeuvred her hand so that she could push the soap between two strands of rope. Being waterless soap, it was quite slippery and she thought she might be able to make it shoot out, if she could just get a good grip and snap her fingers in the right way. “What’s your friend doing?”

“Hmmm? Aranj?” asked Giac. He looked around at the other Sorcerous Supernumerary, who had stopped pacing by the door and was now sitting down with her legs pulled up and her face on her knees, appearing rather like a crushed black spider. “She’s gone into a slough of despond. It couldn’t have helped to have you talking about our heads getting cut off.”

“What’s a sluff of despond?” asked Suzy.

“Acute misery,” replied Giac as he tore up a blue sheet of paper, “resulting in withdrawal from the world. Happens to a lot of us Sorcerous Supernumeraries. Had a bout of it myself a thousand years ago. Not too serious, mind – it only lasted twenty or thirty years. I suppose I should be suffering now, but you were right about the draughts. I’m looking forward to our—”

At that moment, Suzy forced her fingers together with a snap and the soap shot out. It struck Giac in the side of the head, but with very little force.

“Ow!” he said. He looked around wildly, but Suzy was still all tied up and slowly spinning in place. “Who did that?”

“Dunno,” said Suzy. “It just came out of nowhere.”

Giac picked up the soap and looked at it.

“Grease monkey soap,” he said. “Probably thought it was funny to drop this over the side, somewhere up top. Oh, well. Let’s get started.”

“You can go first,” said Suzy.

Giac nodded and set out the paper draughts on the makeshift board. He’d only just laid them all down when a breeze blew in, picked them up and lofted them over the edge of the veranda to spin and twinkle away.

“We’d better use Noon’s board and the pawns for draughts,” said Suzy. “Tell you what – if you don’t want to touch it, how about you cut me down and I’ll do all the moves? That way you can say you never went near it.”

“I don’t know…” said Giac. He looked longingly at the board. “I would so love to play a game. It’s been such a long time since I played anything.”

“You get me down and we’ll play draughts until someone shows up. If it’s your lot, you just say I escaped a minute ago. If it’s the Piper’s Newniths, you can change sides.”

“Change sides?” asked Giac. “Um, how could I do that?”

“Well, you just stop obeying Superior Saturday and start obeying the Piper…or someone else. Lord Arthur, for example.”

“Just like that?” asked Giac wonderingly. “And it would work?”

“Well, I s’pose it would,” said Suzy. “As long as you didn’t run into Saturday herself. Or one of her superior Denizens, like Noon.”

“But they’ve gone up top,” said Giac, pointing. “Invading the Incomparable Gardens. I could change sides now.”

“First things first,” said Suzy. “It’s one thing to change sides; it’s something else to have the other side accept you.”

The half smile that had begun to form on Giac’s face crumpled. “I knew it couldn’t be easy as that.”

“Course you will get accepted if you let me go,” said Suzy. “That’s the first thing. So it’s still pretty easy.”

“You mentioned Lord Arthur,” said Giac. “How many sides are there again? I mean, besides Saturday’s?”

“It’s a bit complicated,” said Suzy quickly. “I’ll explain when you get me down. I can draw a diagram.”

“I like diagrams,” said Giac.

“Good!” said Suzy. “Get me down and I’ll draw one. Quickly!”

“All right,” replied Giac, and something like a small smile flitted across his face. It was the first time Suzy had ever seen a Sorcerous Supernumerary look even remotely happy.

Giac pulled the lever and Suzy dropped to the floor of the veranda. The Denizen strode over and began to undo the knots.

“I’m a rebel,” Giac said happily. “Do you think I’ll get a uniform? Something brightly coloured? I rather fancy a red—”

Before he could say anything further, something large and black streaked in from the open air and struck him in the back of the head, sending him sprawling across Suzy. As Giac hadn’t properly undone any knots, Suzy was still trapped. All she could do was wriggle out from under his unconscious form.

“Suzy Turquoise Blue?” asked the black object, which was reforming itself from a kind of bowling ball made of tiny swirling letters into a raven made up of tiny swirling letters.

“Yes,” said Suzy. “Let me guess – Part Six of the Will, right?”

“At your service,” said the raven. “In a manner of speaking. I’ve come to rescue you, as Lord Arthur instructed.”

Suzy sniffed. “I don’t need no rescuing,” she said. “Had it all organised, didn’t I? ’Cept you’ve just knocked out the Denizen wot was untying me. Where’s Arthur?”

“Mmm…not entirely…mmm…sure,” said the raven as it pulled at a knot with its beak. “There – slither out.”

Suzy slithered out of the loosened bonds and checked Giac. He was unconscious, but the faint smile was still on his face, suggesting that he might be dreaming of a colourful uniform. She looked over at Aranj too, but the other Denizen hadn’t even looked up and was still crouched down, totally rejecting the world around her.

“’Ow do you knock out a Denizen?” asked Suzy. “I tried it myself once or twice, but just hitting them never works.”

“It is not the force of the blow, but the authority with which it is delivered,” quoth the raven.