He held back his fear and ran along the bridge, into the swirling steam, the geysers, and the raining mud. He ran faster than he ever had, his footsteps ringing on the iron, until he pointed down with the Key and said,
"Silence!"
The bridge went for a very long way, much farther than he expected. There were platforms every hundred yards or so, but apart from that, Arthur saw nothing but steam, boiling mud, and the occasional geyser that was close enough. He heard a lot more geysers than he saw, and boiling mud fell so often it was like rain, coating Arthur completely. The Key stopped it from doing him any harm, but every now and then he had to slow down to wipe it off his face.
As he ran, Arthur repeated the Will's instructions over and over in his head. Beneath that there was an undercurrent in his head that thought the Will's plan was all very well, but it was unlikely to work. He had to be prepared for anything.
Finally, the bridge changed. It widened a little and inclined down. Arthur slowed, peering ahead into the steam, the Key clutched hard in his hand, ready for action.
There was another platform ahead. A low, broad platform that must be only a foot or two above the mud. Someone was standing there next to a table. Arthur crouched down and crept closer, his heart hammering in his chest. Was this Mister Monday, awake and waiting for him?
The figure turned and Arthur's heart seemed to stop in his chest. He took a breath and opened his mouth to start the incantation. But he didn't speak it, because the steam eddied apart and he saw who it was.
Sneezer. Mister Monday's butler. He looked exactly the same as he had back in Arthur's world, with one very noticeable change. His left wrist was chained to a table leg, which Arthur saw was also cast iron. It was an extremely long chain, coiled up under the table. On top of the table was a silver tray, a methylated spirit burner, two bottles of cognac or whisky or something similar, a saucepan, and a large decanter of colorless fluid, probably water.
Sneezer was mumbling to himself and fiddling with his fingerless gloves. As Arthur watched, he turned around, and the boy saw that his coat and shirt were cut into strips on the back. There were ugly red weals on the jaundiced-looking skin beneath. Given that all House Denizens healed quickly, Arthur knew that no ordinary whip could have inflicted those wounds.
Arthur thought about that. He had to get past Sneezer without the butler giving the alarm. Mister Monday probably wasn't far away. There were steps down from the platform to yet another lower bridge, at the level of the mud. Monday could well be only yards away, concealed by the steam.
Arthur kept watching. Sneezer rearranged his gloves, then aimlessly shifted the bottles and the decanter. After a minute of this, Arthur crept closer, while Sneezer's back was turned. When he was only a few feet away, he could make out Sneezer's mumblings.
"Not my fault. I was only visiting for a card game. How was I to know that the Will would crawl up my nose? I never thought to look in a handkerchief. Who would? Used that handkerchief since Time began, never had anything in it before I sneezed. Not my fault. Always strived to give the best service. Never had the training. Not my fault. I mean, a handkerchief? Not my fault, ulp..."
Sneezer stopped in midsentence as Arthur pressed the sharp point of the Key against his throat and whispered, "Freeze!"
Arthur was quite unprepared for what happened next. Sneezer did freeze, but it was a literal freeze. Ice flowed from the Key in a softly crackling rush, moving swiftly down Sneezer's body and arms and up over his head. In a few seconds, the butler was completely encased in shiny blue ice. Frozen solid.
Arthur slowly pulled the Key back. While he hadn't expected it, this was a good result. But would the ice last in this incredible heat? Just to be sure, he touched Sneezer with the Key again and said, "Double freeze!"
More ice gushed from the Key, flowing steadily till it wasn't so much Sneezer that stood in front of Arthur, but a man-sized icicle, the ice so thick that the butler was just a dim shape at its core.
Arthur inspected the icicle. There were a few drops of water sliding off it already, but it should hold for a few hours. Hopefully Arthur would only need a fraction of that time to do what he had to.
Arthur left the platform and trod as quietly as he could down the steps to the low bridge. It was barely above the mud and, in fact, in places the steaming mud flowed across it. Protected by the Key, Arthur had no trouble walking through it.
The steam was even thicker this close to the surface. Arthur slowed down even more and waved the Key in front of him to send the steam swirling apart so he could see. Mister Monday had to be somewhere close, surely?
He was. Steam parted, and Arthur saw that the bridge stopped. Ahead there was a pool of bubbling mud that had several iron posts sticking out of it. Hung between the posts was a hammock of silver rope, and in the hammock was Mister Monday.
Arthur stopped, his mouth dry despite the steam. Monday looked asleep. He was wrapped in a thick white bathrobe and had something on his eyes. For a moment Arthur thought they were slices of cucumber like his mother used sometimes, then he saw they were coins. Gold coins.
Arthur edged closer, right up to the end of the bridge. The top rungs of an iron ladder went down from there into the mud. Arthur looked at the ladder, then at Monday again. What was that glint in his pocket on the right-hand side? Was it the Hour Hand, the Greater Key?
Monday moved slightly. Arthur flinched, then calmed himself. It was only a small movement, and Monday's chest continued to rise and fall with the steady motion of a sleeper.
Recite the incantation. The Hour Hand will fly to you. The words of the Will echoed in Arthur's head. Recite the incantation.
Arthur raised his own Key and pointed it at Monday. Then he swallowed twice and in a soft voice, little more than a whisper, spoke.
"Minute by minute, hour by hour, two hands as one, together the power!"
Chapter Twenty-Five
The gold coins screamed into the air as Monday's eyes flashed open. He made a grab for his pocket, but it was too late. The Hour Hand rocketed away, flying across the mud towards Arthur, a gold-and-silver streak almost too fast to see.
Somehow, Arthur caught it. One moment it was a flash in the air, then it was in his left hand, the Minute Key in the right. He held both Keys, the attraction between them making his arms shiver with the effort of holding them apart. Now all he had to do was prick his thumbs...
But before he could move, a great gust of wind knocked him back and sent him sprawling across the bridge, almost into the mud. As Arthur scrambled to get up he saw Mister Monday hovering above him, his too-handsome face distorted in rage. Huge golden wings stained with rust spread from his shoulders, and he used them to buffet Arthur with another gust of wind, sending the boy rolling along the bridge.
"Foolish mortal! Come to me, my Key!"
Arthur felt the Hour Hand leap in his grip as it tried to return to Mister Monday. He clenched his fist, but his fingers slowly opened and the Hour Hand began to slip free. To stop it, Arthur pressed the Minute Hand against it and pushed both Keys against his chest. At the same time he struggled to his feet and began to run back along the bridge.
"Come to me, my Key!" shouted Monday again, and he flew up above Arthur, into the steam. The Hour Hand wriggled against Arthur's chest. It almost got free, but at the last second Arthur pushed the point of the Minute Hand through the circle of the Hour Hand and held them together, shouting himself.
"Holdfast!"
He kept running as he shouted. If he could just get outside, then the Will could help him, hold Mister Monday off somehow so Arthur could prick his thumbs. But the Hour Key kept trying to break free, and then Arthur found himself losing traction on the bridge. The Hour Hand was rising up to where Mister Monday flew above... and was lifting up Arthur with it!