Nix, Garth - Keys to the Kingdom 01 by Nix Garth

Author:Nix, Garth
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

Chapter Thirteen

The Commissionaire stood back up and slowly unscrewed his right hand. He put this through his belt, then drew a much stranger hand from inside his coat. This one had no fingers, but a single broad blade like a cleaver. He screwed this hand into his wrist. As soon as it was secure, the cleaver began to jitter and move up and down so swiftly that it became a blur of steel.

The Commissionaire bent back down and lowered the knife towards Arthur's wrist. The boy cried out, but before he could do anything, or the knife could touch him, the Key suddenly shot out of his hand like an arrow. It plunged into the Commissionaire's breastbone, came out through his back, and spun once more into Arthur's hand.

There was no blood. A vague look of puzzlement crossed the Commissionaire's face. He stood up and stepped back, and the sound of grinding gears came from his torso. Then his blue coat ripped open from the inside and a spring uncoiled to hang limp and broken down his front.

It was followed a moment later with a pop-pop-pop as a rain of small cogs tumbled out around the broken spring and fell to the ground.

The Commissionaire slowly bent his head to look at his chest, raised his one normal hand to touch it, then froze in place, with a small stream of silver fluid trickling down from the corners of his eyes and out of his mouth.

There was silence for a moment. Arthur stared at the broken Commissionaire, then at the Key in his hand, then up at his enemies.

There was no chance of escape, at least not for the moment. He glanced across to Suzy Blue, but she was lying on her side, facing away, and he could not tell whether she was conscious or not.

Noon frowned and gestured to a Commissionaire Sergeant.

"Send four of your most trusted men and fetch that Key!"

The Sergeant saluted and turned to bellow orders at his metal minions.

But before he could speak, Monday's Dusk spoke. Unlike Noon, his tongue was black, not silver, and his voice was a hoarse whisper.

"It is as I guessed — he has now bonded fully with the Key," he said. "So

force will not avail us, unless our Master cares to risk the Greater Key against the Lesser?"

Noon looked sourly at Dusk, then over at Mister Monday, who appeared to have fallen asleep, balanced precariously on his shooting stick. He did not answer Dusk's question, though a faint tic appeared above his right eye.

"No?" continued Dusk. "Why lose more Commissionaires, brother, to no avail? The Grim charges dear for their replacement, does he not?"

"What then? The boy will not hand it over willingly, or from fear. I have tried that."

"Let him keep it, for now," said Dusk. "He does not know how to use it.

Let us put him somewhere safe and unpleasant. When he has suffered enough, he will give us the Key."

"What place is safe from the interference of the Will?" asked Noon.

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