‘It’s only all the leaves and stuff turning into mulch,’ he said. ‘I wonder whether the Followers of the Carp have built houses up here, or found caves or something. You wouldn’t last long just camping out.’
‘Could be worse,’ said Suzy. ‘Down in the Pit or in the Lower House Coal Cellar.’
‘Or collecting salvage for Feverfew,’ said Arthur. He was thinking of all the golden bones strewn outside the dome. ‘They must not last long doing that.’
‘Who speaks of Feverfew?!’ boomed a voice out of the undergrowth — a deep, powerful voice, trained to rise above the fiercest gale.
Twenty–five
‘WHO SPEAKS OF FEVERFEW?’
Arthur and Suzy leapt to their feet and drew their weapons. But there was no sign of the person who’d spoken. The rain forest around them was quiet and still.
‘No one ever looks up,’ continued the voice. ‘Interesting, isn’t it?’
Arthur looked up, his sword at the ready. There was a Denizen high up in the nearest tree, hanging on with the aid of hooked spurs in his boots and what looked like clawed gloves, though Arthur wasn’t entirely sure if they were gloves or actually the Denizen’s hands. He was wearing a shirt and breeches of light tan splattered with patches of green mould, effective camouflage for the rain forest, particularly since the mould looked like it had spread across the Denizen’s skin as well.
‘Now for the traditional questions,’ said the Denizen. ‘And the traditional warning. Answer correctly, or you will die where you stand. Or, to tell a truth, die a bit later, because our arrows, while tipped with Nothing-contaminated mud, are not very effective.’
Arthur looked around as the Denizen spoke. There were rustlings in the undergrowth around them, and he spotted several other green-mould-and-tan-wearing Denizens moving up on them. These ones had short bows. Not crossbows, but the simple stave and bowstring kind.
‘We’re friends,’ called out Arthur. ‘We’re looking for the Followers of the Carp.’
‘Can you just wait for the questions?’ asked the Denizen up the tree. ‘Let’s do this properly, please.’
‘Sure,’ said Arthur.
Suzy yawned and sat back down.
‘Denizens,’ she muttered to herself.
‘Are you now or have you ever been a pirate?’ asked the Denizen.
‘No,’ said Arthur.
‘Do you serve the pirate Feverfew in any capacity?’
‘No,’ said Arthur.
‘Do you believe in the Carp?’
‘Uh, I’m not sure what you mean. I want to meet it —’ ‘Is that a ‘no’?’ asked the Denizen.
Arthur took a sideways glance at the bow-wielding Denizens, who were nocking arrows and drawing bowstrings back.
‘We do believe in the Carp, don’t we, Suzy?’
‘Sure,’ said Suzy. ‘I’ll believe whatever you want.’
‘You must have faith in the Carp,’ said the Denizen. This statement was echoed in a whisper all around.
Arthur nodded vigorously several times, indicating that he had tons of faith in the Carp.
‘Now, also for the record, state your names.’
Arthur thought for a moment.
If the Carp is who I think it is, I can’t go wrong. But if it isn’t, then …
‘This ’ere’s Lord Arthur, Master of the Lower House, Lord of the Far Reaches, Hero of the House, Eater of the Biscuit, and Rightful Heir of the whole lot,’ said Suzy, standing up again. ‘And I’m Suzanna Monday’s Tierce, so you’d better act a bit more respectful, if you don’t mind.’
‘Really?’ asked the Denizen in the tree. ‘I mean, I have faith and all, but are you really the Rightful Heir?’
‘Yes,’ said Arthur. ‘I am. Can you take us to the Carp?’
‘And you’re going to rescue us all from Feverfew’s dominion?’
‘What?’
‘Rescue us, like the Carp says you will.’
‘Uh, I have to talk to the Carp first.’
‘How many of you are there?’ asked Suzy. She was staring out between two of the trees, where more and more green-tinged Denizens were becoming visible as they moved out of cover.
‘Seven hundred and seventy-nine, at last count,’ said the Denizen as he slid down the tree trunk, his boot-spikes shredding bark. He landed and bowed in one smooth motion.
‘Allow me to present myself. I am Jebenezer, First Follower of the Carp, and formerly Second Mate of the Naiad, may her wooden bones rot in peace.’
Before Arthur could answer, a female Denizen pushed forward and bowed, declaring, ‘I am the Second Follower of the Carp, and my name is Pennina!’
‘I am the Third Follower,’ shouted someone else, farther back. ‘My name is Garam. I have faith in the Carp!’
A cacophony of voices followed, with Denizens shouting out their names, their numerical ranking as Followers, and various protestations of faith in the Carp, belief that the Rightful Heir would come, and other stuff that Arthur couldn’t hear properly over the din.
As they shouted, the Denizens moved closer and closer. More and more of them appeared out of the undergrowth, till there was a great crowd advancing on Arthur.
‘Uh, I think I’d like to see the Carp right now,’ said Arthur as he retreated back against a tree trunk. Many of the Denizens had forgotten to put away their Nothing-poisoned arrows, and there were lots of muddy, sharp arrowheads sticking out ahead of them, straight at Arthur.
‘The Rightful Heir says everyone take three steps back!’ shouted Suzy, but even her sharp voice was lost in the tumult.
‘I’m the Ninety-Ninth Follower —’
‘Hundred and Sixth —’
‘I believe —’
‘Faith in the —’
‘The Carp! The Carp!’
‘Three steps back!’ roared Jebenezer, at a volume to match Sunscorch’s best shout.
The Denizens halted, then — after some scuffling — stepped back. Arthur took a breath, found he couldn’t get a full lungful, and concentrated on staying calm.
‘Lord Arthur wants to see the Carp,’ said Suzy.
‘I’m in a bit of a hurry,’ Arthur added, a slight wheeze underlying his words. He looked at his watch. They’d been out of the submersible for two hours. Ten hours to go before the Balaena departed, and now he had nearly eight hundred Denizens thinking he was going to do something for them as well.
‘Of course, sir! Follow me!’ said Jebenezer. He pushed two Denizens aside and gestured at the others to move to make Arthur a path through the crowd. ‘It’s just natural high spirits, sir, most of us having been trapped on this island for so long, and in fear of recapture. Feverfew always sinks captured slaves.’
‘Sinks?’ asked Suzy.
‘In the Hot Lake,’ Jebenezer continued. ‘If the mud doesn’t drown you, or the heat burn you up, the patches of Nothing do the business. Nothing’s quick, of course, or should be. But Feverfew don’t let that happen. He’s got a yardarm rigged up so he can lower you in a bit at a time, like a leg or whatever. A hand usually. He likes to start with the hands —’
‘I get the idea!’ interrupted Arthur. He felt very tense. Every minute wasted could mean disaster, and he had so many problems and so many decisions to make. And then there was the asthma, lurking . . .
‘Where is the Carp?’ asked Suzy. ‘Is it far from here?’
‘Why, the Carp is under our feet, ma’am,’ said Jebenezer. ‘When the Carp first freed the slaves, that’s the first twenty, which is me and Pennina and Garam and Obelin and Herush and Peppertoe and Thin Edric and —’
‘Maybe save the names for later,’ said Arthur. ‘Just tell me the basic story.’
‘Well, when the Carp freed us from our shackles in the dead of night, we picked him up and carried him into these hills. He said if we had faith, and looked around, we’d find a place to shelter, a fortress safe from Feverfew. And sure enough, we soon found a mighty cave, and it has served us ever since as our home. And the Carp said that we must have faith that the Rightful Heir would one day come and bring us all back to the House, and blow me down if it isn’t happening, and me still here without being dissolved into Nothing or my bones bleaching out in the Stomach! Here we are.’
The Denizen stopped before what appeared to be a cliff face, a vertical section of pale yellow rock, liberally covered with the same green mould or lichen that grew on his clothes and skin.
‘Just step through, sir. It looks solid, but if you believe it to be a door, as the Carp says, then it’ll be a door.’
‘That Carp sounds like a right pain in the midsection,’ grumbled Suzy in a low voice to Arthur. ‘And a faker as well. I bet it just made the cavern entrance look like this and carried on with all that belief hocus-pocus.’
‘We won’t get that mould growing on us, will we?’ Arthur asked Jebenezer.
‘Oh, no, sir!’ the Denizen replied. ‘That’s the Carp’s special moss, that is, not mould. It takes cultivation to get that growing right, that does.’
Arthur shut his eyes and stepped forward, holding his hands in front of his face, just in case he did run straight into a mossy cliff.
After four or five paces, when he didn’t suddenly impact with rock, Arthur opened his eyes. He found himself in soft darkness, lit here and there by soft green lights. Some of the lights moved, including one close, bright clump of green lights above Arthur’s head.
‘The moss is luminous!’ he said.
‘Aye, it shines in the darkness, to illuminate our path,’ said Jebenezer. ‘As does the Carp.’
‘It doesn’t shine very well,’ said Suzy. ‘And I can’t see a path.’
Arthur looked around, but he couldn’t see anything more than a few feet away. But judging from the echo of Suzy’s voice, and the patches of both moving and static green light, he knew he had to be standing inside a huge cavern, somewhere near the top. It looked like it extended downward for a few hundred feet and back for at least as far.
‘The path to the Carp is a little difficult,’ admitted Jebenezer. ‘Even with the gift of our light. I’d better go first, and you might care to hold the back of my belt, sir. Miss Suzy, please hold Lord Arthur’s coat-tails.’
Suzy muttered something that Arthur felt he was probably glad not to hear. He reached out and hooked two fingers through the back of Jebenezer’s belt. With one leg not as nimble as it should be — though the crab armour did a great job — he didn’t want to take any risks in the dark. He felt Suzy grab hold of his coat-tails a moment later.
As a makeshift train it was a slow shuffle down. Most of the time Arthur couldn’t see how narrow the path was, or how far he could fall, but every now and then they encountered a large patch of the glowing moss in exactly the right place to illuminate the danger.
Despite these momentary flashes of light and terror, they reached the cavern floor without incident. For the first time, Arthur looked back and was unnerved to see a long line of moving green light zigzagging back up behind them. It looked as if all eight hundred-odd Followers of the Carp were coming down the path. All very quiet now, in contrast to their shouting outside.
‘We approach the Carp,’ whispered Jebenezer. He pointed ahead, indicating a straight way lit by regularly spaced clumps of luminous moss. At the far end, perhaps two hundred feet away, there was a soft, golden light that occasionally twinkled with a red glint, as if there was a distant fire caught by a mirror.
‘The Carp’s road is flat; there is no danger,’ said Jebenezer. ‘You should go ahead here, Lord Arthur, and we will follow.’
Arthur let go of Jebenezer’s belt and started walking slowly towards the gold-red light. He was having last-minute doubts with each step. Surely, the Carp had to be Part Three of the Will? But what if it wasn’t? What if it was some other powerful entity, something like the Old One in the Coal Cellar? Something strange, strong, and dangerous that was expecting some other kind of Rightful Heir, somebody else entirely.
As he drew closer, Arthur saw that the greenlit road ended and there was a band of darkness. Beyond that was a kind of sunken arena or theatre, a deep bowl with terraced sides where the Denizens could sit. The gold-red light came from inside the bowl, but it was deep enough that he could not quite see its source.
Arthur crossed the darkness and stepped down onto the first terrace. He paused there for a moment, looking down. The light came from a huge glass bowl about twenty feet in diameter, with a bronze lid that appeared to be riveted to the glass in some way. The bowl was full of sparkling clean water, and in the water was the biggest goldfish Arthur had ever seen. It was ten feet long and six feet high, with huge goggly eyes and long moustache-like tendrils hanging down from its mouth.
Arthur stepped down to the next terrace and the next. There were forty in all before he reached the lowest and stood in front of the glass bowl. The goldfish watched him approach, just bobbing up and down. It didn’t look very intelligent.
Arthur cleared his throat, not without some difficulty, and spoke.
‘Greetings! I am Arthur, chosen by Part One of the Will to be the Rightful Heir to the House!’
‘I knew you were coming,’ said the Carp, its words mysteriously echoing all around the arena. Its voice was of a strange pitch, and could have come from either a deep-voiced woman or a high-voiced man. ‘It is as I have told my Followers. Hold true to your faith that the Rightful Heir will come. The pirate Feverfew will be cast down, and we shall return to the House!’