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Praise for shrank as he ran, but he didn’t try to put it in his pocket. o He couldn’t pause even for a second or those tentacles THE Keyst e kingdom would latch on. They might sting, or paralyse, or hold him tight so the Scoucher could do whatever it did – ‘WOW! That’s all I can say – WOW.’ These thoughts drove him to the end of the street. He Theresa Chance, 14 hesitated for an instant, uncertain of which way to turn, till the Atlas twitched to his right and he instinctively ‘Mister Monday is a complete and utter masterpiece; one of the best books I’ve ever read. I fully recommend it for followed its lead. It twitched again at the next corner and readers of all ages and I can’t wait for the next one.’ then again a minute later, directing him down a partly David, 14 hidden laneway – all at high speed. A speed Arthur soon realised he couldn’t keep up. Whatever had happened to ‘... a ripping yarn that can be read by adults and children alike.’ Tim Cadman, The Sydney Morning Herald his lungs in the House had improved them, but he wasn’t cured. He was wheezing heavily and the tightness on his ‘... an epic journey of the imagination.’ right side was spreading to the left. He’d run farther and Australian Bookseller & Publisher faster than he’d ever done before, but he couldn’t sustain ‘Exciting, engrossing, humorous and deliciously creepy.’ his speed. Magpies Arthur slowed a little as he exited the lane and looked over his shoulder. The Scoucher was nowhere to be seen. ‘... relentlessly thrilling and unstinting in its amazing imagination.’ He slowed down a bit more then stopped, panting and Viewpoint wheezing heavily. He looked around. He’d thought he was ‘The action is non-stop, but it is the characterisation headed towards home, but in his panic he’d gone in a and the quirky invention that make the book.’ different direction. Now he wasn’t sure where he was, and Sunday Age he couldn’t think of any possible refuge. ‘Nix keeps his taut and energetic series moving at breakneak pace, Something flickered at the corner of his eye. Arthur sustaining action and mystery until the last page.’ spun around. The Scoucher was back in its small fluid Good Reading shape, sneaking again. It was about thirty yards back, ‘I said once that this series was better than Harry Potter, zipping from cover to cover, slinking forward whenever he and Garth Nix just keeps proving me right.’ couldn’t see it. Lili Wilkinson, CYL newsletter 40 The Keys to the Kingdom series Mister Monday Grim Tuesday Drowned Wednesday Sir Thursday Lady Friday Superior Saturday To come Lord Sunday Other books by Garth Nix Shade’s Children The Ragwitch Across the Wall The Old Kingdom trilogy: Sabriel Lirael Abhorsen As he finished his circumnavigation of the last block, Arthur began to feel panicky. Time was slipping away. It was already 11:15. He only had forty-five minutes to find o some way to enter the House, but he had no idea how he was going to do that. THE Keyst e The sight of several moss-covered garden steps reminded him of the Improbable Stair. That bizarre stairway went from everywhere and everywhen, through the House and the Secondary Realms. But the Stair was kingdom dangerous and there was a good chance of ending up somewhere he really didn’t want to be. It wasn’t worth trying the Stair unless he must. Even then, he probably wouldn’t be able to enter it without the Key. There had to be another way. Perhaps if he could track Grim Tuesday down the Grotesques’ headquarters, he could find their doorway back to the House – Something moved at the corner of his eye. Arthur twisted his head around, immediately alert. There was something in the movement he didn’t like. Something Garth Nix that gave him a slight electric tingle across the back of his neck and up behind his ears. There it was again – something flitting across the garden of the house opposite. Moving from the letterbox to the tree, from the tree to the car in the driveway. Arthur put one foot on the pedal, ready to move off, and watched. Nothing happened for a minute. Everything was quiet, save for the constant drone of the distant helicopters patrolling the perimeter of the city. 38 To Anna and Thomas, and to aD my family and ftiends First published in .Australia in 2004 Copyright@ Garth NIX 2004 All rights rcscrvcd. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical. including photocopying. recording or by any information storage and rctric:wl system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The AmtrrJUm Copyright Aa 1968 (the .Act) allOWl a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book., whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a rcJnWlCraOon notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.. Allen &: Unwin 83 .Alexander Street Crows Nest NSW 2065 Au=lia Phone:(61 2) 8425 0100 Fax:{61 2) 9906 2218 Email:[email protected] Web:www.allenandWlwin.com National Library of Ausualia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry: Nix, Garth, 1963-. Grim Tuesday. For children. ISBN 978 1 741142549 I. TItle. (Series: Nix, Garth., 1%3- Keys to the kingdom; bk. 2). A823.3 Cover design by Sandra Nobes Cover illwttarion by Hofstcd.c Design Ten design and typcsctring by Pauline Haas Printed in.Australia by McPhCl'SOlls 7 9 10 8 Grim Tuesday read over part of the letter again. The heir was a boy named Arthur Penhaligon, a boy from the world that was one of the most interesting of those in the Prologue Secondary Realms. A place called Earth, which had given birth to many of the artists and creators whose work Grim Tuesday copied. Humans, they called themselves. They were the most gifted result of all the Architect’s aeons-old seedlings, the only creatures anywhere, in the House or out of it, who rivalled Her in their creativity. THEBLOODRED, spike-covered locomotive vented steam The Grim scowled again and crushed the letter. He did in angry blasts as it wound up from the very depths of the not like to be reminded that he could only copy things. Pit. Black smoke billowed through the steam, coal smoke Given a good look at anything original, he could make a that was laced with deadly particles of Nothing from the copy from Nothing. He could even combine existing things deep mines far below. in interesting ways. But he could not create anything For over ten thousand years, the Pit had been dug entirely new himself. deeper and deeper into the foundations of the House. ‘Lord Tuesday.’ Grim Tuesday’s miners sought workable deposits of Noth- The greeting came from the taller of the two messengers. ing, from which all things could be made. But if they found Denizens of the House, but not like the ones in the Far too much in one place or broke through to the endless Reaches. They stood head and shoulders above the soot- abyss of Nothing, it would destroy them and much else stained, Nothing-pocked servants of Grim Tuesday who besides, before the hole could be plugged and that flocked to the train to unload the great bronze-bound particular shaft closed off. barrels of Nothing brought up from below. These barrels of There was also the constant danger of attack by Nothing would be used to make raw materials like bronze, Nithlings, the strange creatures that were born from steel and silver, which would in turn be transformed into Nothing. Sometimes Nithlings came as multitudes of finished goods in Grim Tuesday’s factories and foundries. lesser creatures, sometimes as a single, fearsome monster Some of the Nothing would be used directly by the Grim to that would wreak enormous havoc until it was defeated, magically fashion the exquisite items he sold to the rest of turned back, or escaped into the Secondary Realms. the House. 1 4 Despite the danger, the Pit grew ever deeper, and the shafts and tunnels that preceded it spread wider. The train was a relatively recent addition, a mere three hundred years old as time ran in the House. The train took only four days to travel from the bottom of the Pit up to the Far Reaches. There wasn’t much left of the Reaches, since the digging had eaten away much of Grim Tuesday’s original domain within the House. Very few ordinary Denizens ever rode the train. Most had to walk, a journey of at least four months, following the service road next to the railway. The train was only for the Grim himself and his favoured servants. Its locomotive and carriages were razor-spiked all over to prevent hitchhikers, and the conductors used steam-guns on anyone who tried to get on. Even an almost-immortal Denizen of the House would think twice about risking a blast of superheated steam. Recovery would take a long time and be extraordinarily painful. Flying would be far faster than the train, but Grim Tuesday never wore wings himself and had forbidden them to everyone else. Wings attracted Nothing from all over the Pit. Sometimes they caused flying Nithlings to form. Other times, the flapping set off storms of Nothing that the Grim himself had to quell.

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