Free Superior Saturday by Garth Nix Page B

head and took a breath, forcing this arrogant temper tantrum back to wherever it had come from. He was frightened by it, frightened that he could get so angry, and that his immediate response was to attack.
    As the rage lessened, he became aware that his arm hurt quite a lot.
    ‘Ouch!’ he exclaimed. The point of the Newnith’s dagger had made contact with him after all. He rolled his arm over to get a better look, and saw that it had done more than just scratch the skin. There was a six—inch-long incision in his forearm, and it looked cut to the bone. Yet even as he looked, the cut closed up, leaving only a very faint white scar. Arthur wiped off what little blood there was with his left hand, and tried not to notice that it was neither red like a normal human’s nor blue like a Denizen’s. It was golden, like a deep, rich honey, and that was almost more painful to him than the cut itself. Whatever he was becoming was very strange indeed.
    ‘There’s nothing left of ’im,’ said Suzy with satisfaction, turning over the vapourised Newnith’s smoking boots with the point of her sword.
    ‘I didn’t mean to do it,’ said Arthur sadly. ‘It was the Key.’
    ‘We’d best get ready.’ Suzy tugged on the table, to drag it to the door, but it was bolted to the deck and she only succeeded in staggering into Scamandros when she lost her grip. Still unsteady, both of them went backwards into one of the well-upholstered chairs. Suzy was up again in a moment, while Scamandros struggled like a beetle thrown upon its back.
    ‘Won’t just be one Newnith on board,’ Suzy warned. ‘They’ll be charging in any moment.’
    ‘They might not have heard,’ said Arthur. It was noisy, the constant rhythmic thud of the ship’s steam engine mixed with the groan and creak of the rigging above, as well as the regular crash and jolt as the ship plunged through what had to be fairly sizable waves.
    ‘They heard orright,’ said Suzy. She spat on her hands and gripped her sword more tightly. ‘I expect your Key can burn up a passel of ’em, though.’
    ‘I don’t want to burn them up,’ Arthur protested. ‘I just want to talk to the Raised Rats!’
    ‘We are very glad to hear that,’ said a voice from under the table.
    Suzy swore and ducked down to have a look.
    ‘A trapdoor,’ she exclaimed in admiration. ‘Sneaky!’
    A four-foot-tall rat clad in white breeches and a blue coat with a single gold epaulette on his left shoulder clambered out from under the table and saluted Arthur, his long mouth open in a smile that revealed two shiny gold-capped front teeth. He had a cutlass at his side, but it was sheathed. A Napoleonic hat perched at a jaunty angle on his head.
    ‘Lord Arthur, I presume? I am Lieutenant Goldbite, recently appointed to command this vessel following Captain Longtayle’s promotion and transfer. I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting you before, but I am acquainted with your past dealings with us. Perhaps you and your companions would like to sit?’
    He gestured at the armchairs.
    ‘Do we have a truce?’ asked Arthur, still standing. ‘And do you speak for all aboard?’
    ‘I am the captain,’ said Goldbite. ‘I say truce for all of us, Newniths and Raised Rats.’
    ‘The Piper’s not ’ere, is he?’ asked Suzy. She hadn’t sat down either, though Scamandros had settled back down only moments after finally managing to get up.
    ‘The Piper is not aboard this ship,’ said Goldbite. ‘And though we owe him a considerable debt and so will carry his troops and so forth, the Raised Rats have chosen to be noncombatants in the Piper’s wars, and should not be considered in the same light as the Newniths. Speaking of them, if you wouldn’t mind sitting down, I shall just pop out and stand down both my own folk and the Newniths.’
    ‘I’m sorry about the one ... the one I killed,’ said Arthur. He was very aware that the Newniths, though they felt obliged to serve the Piper, actually just