Mister Monday

Chapter Twenty-Three

It was easier than it looked. Arthur slid one foot after the other along the spiderwire. It felt rock-solid under his feet, and he had no trouble with balance. At least he had no trouble with balance as long as he didn't look down. As soon as he glanced towards his feet, he started to shake and quiver, and that became a general wavering that threatened to send him upside down. But if he looked up and ahead, it stopped again.

Suzy came next, moving quickly. She had no trouble at all and didn't even need to extend her arms, because her wings spread out and easily kept her upright.

Soon she was right behind Arthur and he was all too conscious of his own slow progress.

"Is this perhaps the time to mention that the spider-wire is impermanent?" asked the Will after Arthur had slowly shuffled along another twenty yards.

"No," said Arthur. He made himself go faster and tried not to look down. "What do you mean impermanent?"

"It will disappear in a few minutes."

Arthur started a peculiar running motion. It was very odd to not be able to pick up his feet. It also made balancing more difficult and, though Arthur was making faster progress, he also picked up a wobble that got worse and worse.

"Faster," said the Will when they were halfway down the wire, moving through thick clouds of cooling steam. It wasn't anywhere near as hot as Arthur had feared. It was just like the steam in the bathroom after a shower. "Much faster!"

Arthur tried to comply. The wobble got even worse and Arthur realized he was expending as much energy throwing himself from side to side to try to regain his balance as he was running along the wire.

"Faster! The spiderwire unravels!" called out the Will just as Arthur spotted the island up ahead. It was about two hundred yards away. The bubbling waters were only ten or twenty yards below, the steam was much hotter, and the red glow of deeply submerged lava brighter. Arthur was unpleasantly reminded of Suzy telling him the few ways it was possible to be killed in the House. Fire, if it's hot enough. Superheated water probably fell into the same category.

Arthur stopped that train of thought and focused all his energy into a sprint, but it was very difficult to pick up speed. He simply couldn't go any faster without lifting his feet.

Fifty yards... forty yards... thirty... twenty... ten... five...

"We're going to make it!" shouted Arthur as his feet finally left the spiderwire and he threw himself onto the cool green grass of the lawn that surrounded Monday's Roman villa.

But when he turned around, Arthur nearly had a heart attack. Suzy had not only fallen back, she was hanging upside down!

Arthur sprang up and ran to the spiderwire. But when he put his right foot on it and tried to slide along, he slid off and almost fell off the island into the water.

"One-way wire," said the Will. "Leave her. We must get on."

"Stop!" shouted Arthur. "What's wrong with you anyway? She's my friend!"

"Even friends must be sacrificed for the goal..." the Will began.

But Arthur wasn't listening. He undid the handkerchief around his sleeve and pulled out the Key.

"Hurry!" he shouted to Suzy and then said to the Will, "How long before the spiderwire unravels?"

"It is already withdrawing from the far anchor," said the Will. Arthur looked down and saw the little frog staring across the lake into the clouds of steam. "At the current rate of unraveling and the speed of Suzy Blue, she will fall into the water in ten seconds."

Arthur touched the Key to the spiderwire and commanded it fiercely. "Stop! Do not unravel!"

The Key glowed a little brighter for a second, but Arthur couldn't see any difference.

"That was foolish," complained the Will. "Using the Key may alert Mister Monday..."

"I said to stop!" snapped Arthur. Then, contradicting himself, he added, "Did it work? Will it stay up?"

The Will didn't answer for a second. Then it said mulishly, "It has slowed. The spiderwire was made with the Greater Key and is governed by the schedule laid upon it then. But it has slowed."

Arthur stood back and waved frantically at Suzy, willing her on. She was flapping her wings furiously and was almost upright again.

"Faster!" he screamed. "Go faster!"

Suzy hurled herself forward, her wings beating up a storm. She got closer and closer and Arthur could see the tension and fear in her face. He found himself grip-ping the Key so tightly that it almost cut him again and left a livid line down his palm.

Closer, closer...

Twenty feet from the island, the wire snapped out from under Suzy's feet. She screamed and flapped with all her might. At the same time, a huge bubble formed in the lake beneath her and Arthur remembered the other danger. Gouts of steam specifically designed to hit free-fliers.

The bubble expanded as Suzy flew. Arthur held his breath. Three seconds. The bubble hadn't burst; Suzy was almost at the island. He suddenly remembered the Key in his hand and pointed it at the bubble... It burst, sending a great jet of steam straight up like a geyser. Arthur staggered back.

Too slow! Too slow! he thought. Suzy's been blown to pieces...

Then she crashed into him and they both rolled across the lawn.

"That was close," said Suzy as they extricated themselves and stood up. "I reckon my shoulders 'ave been pulled up to my ears."

"What were you doing?" yelled Arthur.

"Sorry. I got tired of waiting for you to get out of the way. So I thought I could run along upside down. Only I couldn't get my wings to work properly the wrong way around..."

"Forget it," said Arthur. Concentrate on what has to be done. "Sorry I yelled."

He looked across at the villa. Its windows were shuttered, but he could see a door. An unassuming back door of unfinished wood. "I guess we go in there."

"Indeed," said the Will. "Before we enter, I should alert you that it may be a little confusing inside. I believe Monday has had the entire interior converted to steam rooms and bathing pools, and it is much larger in than it is out. Obviously, Arthur, you must find Monday and speak the incantation. I... ahem... we shall assist as best we can."

"Let's do it," said Arthur. He hefted the Key in his hand, ran over the incantations and procedure for joining the Keys, and headed for the door.

Ten paces away, he stopped. There was a deep ditch in front of the door. A dry moat really, about six feet deep and six feet wide. Not much of an obstacle. Except that it was knee-deep in writhing, undulating, coiling, hissing snakes. And not just ordinary-looking snakes. These were patterned in yellow-and-red flames that flowed from their flat heads to their pointy tails, and their eyes were shiny and blue, as bright as sapphires.

"Bibliophages!" exclaimed the Will, its voice alive with panic. "Step back! Step back!"

Arthur needed no encouragement. He stepped back as the snakes flung themselves at the side of the ditch and tried to get out. He was relieved to see that they couldn't.

"What's a bibliophage?" asked Arthur nervously.

"They are creatures of Nothing," said the Will slowly. "Book eaters. A type of Nithling. They spit a poison that dissolves any writing or type into Nothing. They should not be here. Monday has gone beyond the limits of... of anything!"

"Will they spit on us if we don't have any writing or type?" asked Arthur.

"No," said the Will. "But I am entirely composed of type! I cannot cross!"

"Which is what Monday had in mind, I reckon," said Suzy. "How's the plan looking now?"

"It remains as discussed," said the Will, rallying quickly. "Arthur, you must cross without me. But first you must be sure you have no writing or type of any kind upon you. Labels in clothing. Notes. The bibliophages will detect even a single letter and will spit. Their poison will dissolve you if they do, and all will be lost."

"And we'll be dead," added Suzy.

Five minutes later, they were ready. Arthur had to tear labels off all his own clothing. There were some handwritten laundry letters marked in Suzy's clothes, but she just discarded them and was still left wearing three shirts, breeches, two pairs of stockings, and her boots.

It wasn't so easy for Arthur. Every item of his regular clothing had multiple labels or printing on the cloth. He even had to tear the waistband out of his underwear, but he was past embarrassment. He was glad he didn't have a tattoo or the habit of writing on his hands with ink.

"You are certain you have no words upon you, no writing?" asked the Will. It had jumped down to sit on top of the discarded clothing. "Not even a single letter? What is that upon your wrist?"

Arthur looked at his watch and gulped as he realized the brand name on the face was type and would attract bibliophage spit.

"Nothing else?" asked the Will again, and they all checked their pockets. Then Arthur glanced down at his jeans and said, "Uh-oh. There are letters on my zip."

Now he was embarrassed as he worked to break off the zipper tag. But then he saw that there was writing down the inside of the zipper as well.

"This isn't going to work," he said slowly. "Uh, I'm going to have to get rid of all my own clothes and just wear the stuff from the Antechamber."

Arthur turned his back, quickly stripped off, then put on the long shirt the Lieutenant Keeper of the Front Door had given him, which was long enough to be like a nightshirt, then his coat. Still, it felt pretty weird and exposed, even with everything buttoned up. He hoped there weren't any Marilyn Monroe-style wind gusts around.

"May you be successful," said the Will. "Let the Will be done."

Arthur nodded. The frog stood on his hind legs and bowed. Suzy gave a rough curtsy back. Arthur nodded, then felt that wasn't enough and gave a kind of salute.

Then he led the way to the ditch and stared down at the bibliophages. There were thousands of them. Snakes. Every one at least four feet long. Arthur felt his mouth drying up as he watched them writhe and coil around one another. He and Suzy would have to literally wade through this mass of snakes. He hadn't even asked if they bit as well as spat.

And he didn't have any underwear on.

For some reason that brought a faint, almost hysterical chuckle to his mouth. He couldn't believe he was in this situation. He was supposed to be some sort of hero, going up against Mister Monday, and here he was without any pants on, worrying about being bitten somewhere very unpleasant by Nithling snakes. Surely no real hero would end up in this predicament.

"No time like the present," he said, and lowered himself over the side.