Oscar and the Magi: The Battle of the White Tower
At that moment the lift bell rang and the doors slid open. At first Oscar thought that the lift was empty but then he realised that the passenger was, in fact, very small. It was a tiny figure, no larger than six inches tall, muddy brown except for a bright blue waistcoat. It had strange little stumpy limbs and indistinct features, apart from its beady bright eyes, like two black buttons. In fact, now he looked closer, not just like: they were black buttons, and it was more than just muddy, it appeared in fact to be made entirely of mud - Oscar could see things stuck in it - bits of old clay pipe, some roots, an old coin.
“A homunculus,” confided Maggs, “From the Watchmen.”
The homunculus stumped forward out of the lift, leaving behind it a trail of little muddy paw prints. It gestured as expansively as its limited arms would allow.
“I bring word from the Knights Watchmen to the rebels and prisoners in the White Tower. If you return to your cells no harm will come to you but should you attempt to resist the rightful representatives of the law of the Council of the Magi then the full force of that law will be pressed against you.” It paused and then said, in a very different tone of voice: “In other words: you’re stuffed, chums.”
The homunculus looked very pleased with itself and tried to put its hands in its waistcoat pockets, only it hadn’t any pockets and its arms weren’t long enough, so it only succeeded in wiping mud down its front. Then it spotted the black cat.
“Ah! A cat? Get it away from me!” The homunculus jumped in panic and turned, only to slip on its own footprints.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” Thursby bent down and grabbed it by the waistcoat and, in one swift movement threw it into a flip-top bin that stood between the lifts. The lid rattled and slowly swung to a stop.
“That didn’t hurt me,” said a muffled voice, “I’m made of mud. You’re not:, though… made out of mud, you see… so you could be… hurt, I mean… are you following this?… that cat can’t get in here, can it?”
Thursby turned to the others.
“Listen,” he said, “We’re going to need your help, we’re going to try and get through to the Temple, rouse the Magi…”
“But the Watchmen are outside,” Harrison interrupted, “How are you going to get past them?”
“That,” said Murray, “Is where you come in.”
“Me?” Harrison’s voice quavered a little. But many of the other prisoners were smiling and nodding.
“All these years locked in here, enduring the White Tower,” Thursby gestured at the empty rooms around them, “This is your chance, your chance to take the fight to the Knights Watchmen, to show them what defeat feels like!”
The prisoners all cheered and some of them darted forward to clap Thursby on the back or shake his hand enthusiastically. Murray started gathering some of them round him.
“Right, you, you and you, come with me,” he crossed to the cell nearest to him and picked up the ‘Keep Out’ notice that was lying on the floor. He took in both hands and broke it in two and, at the sound, the chair in front of him suddenly shook itself and started ambling forwards on its four metal legs. “Come on, come on,” Murray was impatient, “Get a move on… Right, follow me…”
He started off down the corridor towards the windows. The chair followed him and as it went its plastic back began to warp and change, separating out into two orange wings that flapped experimentally. After them followed many of the prisoners, other chairs clattering from the empty offices to join them, all stretching new wings.
Meanwhile the prisoners who had been gathered round Thursby were already cramming themselves into lifts. Maggs grabbed hold of Oscar and hurried him into a lift with Thursby, Cuddy and Ridley, but Oscar couldn’t tear his eyes away from the strange, skittering column of flapping chairs.
“Oscar, please pull your head in before the doors knock it off,” Maggs pulled him back, but before she did so, he caught one last glimpse of Murray as he reached the window and flung it wide. Then, in the same movement, he jumped up onto the seat of the chair following him, like a surfer on his board, as the chair sprang through the window, spread its plastic wings, and dropped into the night.
Down in the lobby the fog pressed so thickly against the glass they couldn’t see further than a step beyond the front doors. Somewhere in the gloom dark shapes moved and massed, but it was hard to tell whether they were buses or monsters. If there was a difference between them out there.
The prisoners were all waiting by the doors when Oscar, Maggs, the black cat and the others stepped out of the lift. They were accompanied by various large pieces of lobby furniture, which all milled around, pawing at the ground, their overstuffed leather hides shining in the fluorescent light. Oscar could see that outside a couple of thin steel bollards had already taken up guard outside the front door, whipping long tentacles of chain over their heads to protect anyone who stepped outside. The security guard had disappeared from behind his desk.
“Are you ready?” Thursby’s voice was loud in the echoing hall.
“We’re ready!” came the answering cry.
“Remember - we need a clear path down through St Giles, if you can do it…” Thursby strode across the tiles and in one clear move leapt up onto the reception desk, “To the Temple!”
“The Temple!” shouted the prisoners, and at that the huge lobby sofas launched themselves forward, straight through the plate glass windows and out into the fog, with the Magi spilling out after them cheering and whooping.
Thursby jumped down from the reception desk and started for the front door when Cuddy put a hand on his shoulder.
“Clive, they’ll all be at the front - we should go out by the side - it’ll be quicker… and safer…”
Thursby paused for a moment, as if torn between the heroism of fighting his way through the fog and the need to get to the Temple.
“Alright, by the side, but hurry up,” Thursby turned and gestured and a small metal ashtray that had been left behind when the furniture escaped suddenly flipped onto its side and went rolling across the tiles, gathering speed until, at the last minute, it suddenly hurled itself into the air and flung itself through a window at the back of the lobby, shattering it into pieces.
“Come on, then!” They all ran after Thursby across the lobby towards the broken window.
And out they ran, out through the hole in the window and into the fog beyond.