"There is still no word from Sunday?" Monday demands irritably, aware that he is repeating himself for at least the fifth time.
"No," the Grower says, his words tighter than usual. Evidently his temper is fraying as well, likely because Monday keeps calling him.
Monday pinches the bridge of his nose, reminding himself that it is not the fault of Sunday's Noon that Sunday himself didn't inform the Denizen of his destination. "Very well. Please inform me if you learn anything new."
"I will," the Grower agrees.
Monday hangs up with more force than is strictly necessary and scowls at the desktop.
Arthur and Suzy had boarded the Mariner's vessel (though crash-landed on it might be a more accurate description) and passed beyond the view of the Seven Dials, no matter how Sneezer adjusted the dials of the grandfather clocks.
For whatever reason, the Mariner's vessel is hidden from the Seven Dials. Monday does not know whose side the Mariner could be on. If, like his brothers, he was fond of mortals; or whether he had another agenda that ran counter to both Wednesday's and Sunday's.
The phone rings, and Monday snatches it up.
"Monday," he barks into the receiver.
"You sound worried, Monday," Tuesday says. Monday can hear something clanking nearby, from Tuesday's end.
"Should you not be working on the vast number of unfilled orders?" Monday retorts.
"I can shape Nothing and speak on the phone at the same time. And here I thought you would approve of multi-tasking. It's more efficient, wouldn't you agree?" Which would explain the clanking, at any rate.
"When it serves some purpose. Why did you call?" Monday says curtly.
"I've already authorized the transportation of Nothing-powder and Not-Horses that Thursday's been demanding for... a while."
"Great," Monday says. "So when Thursday rolls around, assuming Wednesday has not destroyed Earth before she allows time to resume, Thursday will be able to finish the job."
"Someone sent me a list of items that they thought deserved special attention," Tuesday remarks idly. "For me to begin manufacturing immediately. Do you remember who that was, Monday?"
"Yes, all right, I did not think they would actively resist us!" Monday says, stiffening. It was true that he thought the supplies for the Great Maze needed greater priority than the things other Demesnes required.
"I do not think Thursday will," Tuesday says. "He has always been content to remain within the Great Maze."
"True," Monday mutters. "You still have not told me why you called."
"Ah, yes," Tuesday says distractedly. "I've decided to embargo the other Demesnes. Of course, it won't be much of a change from these past millennia, but it's better than nothing."
"That seems wise," Monday says grudgingly.
"Your approval warms my heart," Tuesday says.
"I do not recall you using these moronic idioms before," Monday snaps.
"I think it's a side effect of Lord Arthur restoring me," Tuesday says. "Ah, there. Done. I have to go now, Monday. We should talk again soon, I so enjoy it."
Monday scowls and slams the receiver down, his mood not improved in the slightest.