Septimus Heap: Darke Part 22

Thunder raised his head and sniffed the air. He pawed the ground restlessly and Lucy began to feel slightly unsafe-there was something Magykal about Thunder and he was a little scary. Thunder had been Simon's faithful horse through his master's Darkest moments and there was an indissoluble connection between them. And now Thunder Knew his master was near. And where his master was, Thunder must be.

And so Thunder went. He threw his head back, whinnied and was out the stable door, his hooves slipping on the snowy cobbles as he cantered out into the night. Paying Lucy no more attention than if she had been a gnat on his back, the horse galloped off to the place where he Knew his master awaited him.

The clattering of Thunder's hooves was the only sound to disturb the warren of deserted streets that led from the North Gate gatehouse to Wizard Way-apart from some extremely piercing screams.

"Stop! Stop, you stupid horse!"

Chapter 32.

Day of Recognition

After Spit Fyre had taken off from the Dragon Field, Septimus had flown him away from the Palace and out above the river. They had wheeled to the right just before the jagged crag of Raven's rock and were now flying above the Moat. Septimus craned over Spit Fyre's wide, muscled neck and stared down at the Castle below on his right-hand side. He gasped. It looked as though someone had dropped a large pool of ink onto the Palace and Wizard Way. The dark irregular shape was, even as he watched, moving outward as yet more candles and torches were extinguished.

Jenna was sitting in her usual Navigator s.p.a.ce, in the dip between the dragon's shoulders, just behind Septimus.

"It's so dark down there!" she shouted above the noise of Spit Fyre's wings.

Septimus searched for a sign of Marcia's Safety Curtain. He thought that maybe, just possibly, he could see a faint purple glimmer deep within the blackness, but he could not be sure. The only thing he could be sure of was that the Safety Curtain had failed.

At least, Septimus noted with relief, Marcia knew what was happening. The spreading blackness had halted at the wall surrounding the Wizard Tower courtyard and from its boundaries he saw the Living Safes.h.i.+eld begin to grow upward into the night sky, encasing the entire tower in a cone of brilliant indigo and purple lights, the colors of which showed, to Septimus's knowledgeable eye, that Marcia was in residence. It was a magnificent sight and made him feel proud to be part of the Wizard Tower-although once again unhappy to be outside the Magyk.

They flew slowly along the Moat, keeping the Castle Walls on their right. The Darke Domaine was spreading fast and he knew that nowhere in the Castle would be safe for long. The one beacon of light-the Wizard Tower and his home-was now closed to him and to Jenna. They had a simple choice: leave the Castle and flee to safety or find somewhere within the Castle where they could hide out and keep the Darke at bay.

Jenna tapped him on the shoulder. "Sep, what are you doing? We have to get to the Palace. We have to get Mum out of there!"

They had now reached the other end of the Moat. The One Way Bridge was to their left and in front of them, on the other side of the river, lights ablaze, was the ramshackle shape of the Grateful Turbot Tavern. Septimus contemplated landing there-the lights looked so welcoming-but he needed time to think. He wheeled Spit Fyre around in a tight turn and began to retrace their path.

Septimus flew Spit Fyre slowly so that he could see how far-and how fast-the Darke Domaine was spreading. They flew over the drawbridge, which was raised as it always was at night. The Darkenesse had not yet reached there, although the Gringes' rather mean single candle in the upstairs window of the gatehouse did not make it easy to tell. But there were other signs that all was still well; Septimus could still see the thin covering of snow on the road reflecting the light from candles in houses set back from the gatehouse. He also saw, as he dipped down for a closer look, a rectangle of lamplight thrown onto the road from an open door at the back of the gatehouse.

Septimus took Spit Fyre down low along the Moat. He was relieved to see that candles were still burning in the windows of the houses that backed onto the Castle walls, as were the lamps in Jannit Maarten's boatyard and on the newly arrived late-night Port barge, which was just docking. But farther down, the Ma.n.u.scriptorium boathouse was Darke. Not merely unlit but so dark as to be almost invisible. If Septimus had not known it was there, he would have thought it was an empty s.p.a.ce. And yet, strangely, the houses on either side of it were still lit.

What Septimus could not see was that the Darke Domaine had followed Merrin to the Ma.n.u.scriptorium and had spread through the entire premises, which extended down to the Moat. Merrin intended to make the Ma.n.u.scriptorium his temporary headquarters until he got into the Wizard Tower. But being in charge was not as much fun as he had expected now that Jillie Djinn was no longer there to intimidate. The empty old place felt rather creepy, especially with the Seal on the Hermetic Chamber glowing eerily through the Darke, behind which-unknown to Merrin-Beetle was frantically searching for the Suspension Charm, which was now languis.h.i.+ng in the garbage bin out in the yard along with the rest of the contents of the siege drawer.

With the Paired Code feeling like it was stuck in his throat, Merrin had gone upstairs to Jillie Djinn's rooms to wash it down with her stash of biscuits and plan his next move. His mouth full of stale biscuit, Merrin stared out of the window and caught a glimpse of Spit Fyre as he flew past. What was he doing up there? Merrin cursed. Stupid Things. They couldn't even do a simple job like getting rid of a pathetic dragon. Well, he'd show that dragon. He'd get it. Merrin smiled at his dark reflection in the grubby window. Oh, he'd get it all right-one way or another. It wouldn't stand a chance. Not against what he'd got planned. This was, Merrin told himself, going to be fun.

Spit Fyre flew slowly on, past tiny attic windows containing flickering candles until they came to Snake Slipway. Below them, to the left of the Slipway was Rupert Gringe's boathouse, still happily ablaze with a couple of buckets containing torches. The houses on either side of the slipway were also still untouched; many of them seemed to have caught Marcellus's habit of burning forests of candles, and the whole slipway shone brightly.

Septimus had made his decision-Alther must wait. He would use his Darke Disguise to rescue Sarah and then he would stay and fight the spreading Darkenesse. But he could not risk Jenna's safety. He wheeled Spit Fyre out across the Moat and over the Forest borders in order to give the dragon s.p.a.ce to turn for a good run into Snake Slipway, where he planned to land.

"What are you doing?" yelled Jenna.

"Landing!" yelled Septimus.

"Here?"

"Not here. Snake Slipway!"

Jenna leaned forward and yelled in Septimus's ear, "No, Sep! We have to get Mum!"

Septimus turned to face Jenna. "Not you, Jen. Too dangerous. I'll go!"

"No way! I'm coming too!" Jenna shouted above the whoos.h.i.+ng of the air as the dragon's wings swept down.

Spit Fyre was lining up for the tricky swoop down into Snake Slipway, but Septimus could not concentrate with Jenna yelling in his ear. He wheeled the dragon around once more.

"No, Jen!" Septimus yelled as Spit Fyre flew back across the Moat toward the Forest again. "I'm taking you somewhere safe first. We don't know what's in the Palace now!"

"Mum's in there, you-you total dumbrain!"

Septimus was shocked. Jenna never used language like that normally. He blamed the witch's cloak. He turned Spit Fyre around and lined him up once more for landing on Snake Slipway.

Spit Fyre began his second attempt to land.

"Septimus Heap, you are not dumping me!" Jenna yelled.

"But Jen-"

"Spit Fyre!" yelled his Navigator. "Go up!"

Spit Fyre-who obeyed his Navigator's instructions in the absence of any from his Pilot-began to go up. But not for long.

"Down, Spit Fyre!" his Pilot countermanded. Spit Fyre went down. His Pilot was in charge.

"Up!" yelled Jenna.

Spit Fyre went up.

"Down!" Septimus yelled. His dragon obeyed. Septimus had one last go at persuading Jenna.

"Jen, please, listen to me! The Palace is dangerous! If something happens to you, that's it. No more Queens in the Castle. Ever. We can land here and I'll take you to Marcellus's house-he's got a SafeChamber-or we can even go to Aunt Zelda's. You choose. But you have to be safe!"

Jenna fumed. How many times had she been sidelined just because she had to be safe? She leaned forward-all the better to yell at Septimus and tell him she didn't care about being Queen, so there-and The Queen Rules dug into her. Angrily she pulled the book out of her pocket, intending to hurl it into the Moat below. But something stopped her. The little red book sat so naturally in her hand and felt so much a part of her that suddenly Jenna knew she could not throw it away-in fact, she could never throw it away. This fragile, worn, little red book contained her history. Whatever she thought of it, whether she liked it or not, this was who she was, who her family was, and she knew, as she looked down onto the Darkening Castle below, that this was where she belonged. Nothing she did would ever change that.

And so, sitting on a somewhat confused dragon, Jenna realized what the Day of Recognition actually meant. Somehow, without any official ceremony, procession or traditional hoo-ha, it had happened. She understood who she was and she accepted it. It was, she realized, recognition of something she had known for a while but had preferred not to notice. It was a bit late in the day, she thought, as she heard the chimes of the Drapers Yard Clock strike ten, but that was fine.

Septimus took Jenna's sudden silence to mean that she had stopped speaking to him in disgust.

"Landing!" he yelled.

"Okay!" Jenna shouted back.

Surprised, Septimus turned around. "Really?" he shouted.

Jenna smiled. "Yep! Really!"

Septimus gave Jenna a huge grin of relief-he hated arguing with her-and once more Spit Fyre began his approach to Snake Slipway. The slipway was hemmed in on both sides by houses, some leaning in toward each other and none wanting their windows smashed by a misplaced dragon's tail. It was not an easy landing, even for a dragon used to the narrow confines of the Castle. With a loud snort of excitement-Spit Fyre liked a challenge-the dragon headed down.

It was a perfect landing. Spit Fyre settled lightly in the center of the slipway and folded his wings with an air of satisfaction and the creaking sound of old leather. His Pilot and Navigator slipped down from their places and stood on the sleet-s.h.i.+ned slipway.

"Spit Fyre," said his Pilot. "Stay!"

Spit Fyre regarded his Pilot quizzically. Why did his Pilot want him to Stay in this bad place? Had he done something wrong? His Navigator came to his rescue.

"You can't tell Spit Fyre to Stay, Sep."

"It's only for a few minutes, Jen. Then I'm going to get Mum."

But Spit Fyre's Navigator dug her heels in. "No, Sep. Supposing those Things come back? You have to take the Stay off. It's not fair."

Septimus sighed. Jenna was right. "Okay. Spit Fyre, Stay replaced with StaySafe." He patted the dragon's nose. "Okay?"

Spit Fyre snorted. He thumped his tail and sent a plume of Moat water up into the air. The dragon watched his Pilot and Navigator walk to a doorway a few yards up on the left where the slipway leveled out. His Pilot placed a key in the lock and turned it, then they disappeared inside and the door closed behind them.

Spit Fyre watched the door, waiting for them to come out again. And while he watched he stretched out his wings so that he was ready to take off quickly-just in case. He didn't like the slipway. It was narrow and full of hiding places on either side. Spit Fyre didn't like what was happening to the Castle either; he could smell the Darke, he could feel it coming closer. And then, suddenly, he saw a movement in the shadows. His Pilot's StaySafe kicked in and so, as a group of Things crept up on him in a pincer movement, knives at the ready, Spit Fyre raised his wings and, with one powerful downstroke, he was airborne. He looked down and saw the Things on the slipway staring up at him. A moment later there was a loud splat-a particularly large amount of dragon p.o.o.p had scored a direct hit.

Jenna didn't like Marcellus's house very much. There was something about the smell of it that reminded her of a Time five hundred years ago.

"Do we have to come here?" she asked uneasily.

"Marcellus has a SafeChamber," said Septimus. "Where you can be, um, safe." He glanced around. The narrow hallway and the flight of stairs leading up to the next floor were ablaze with candles, as they always were, but a stillness hung in the air, and he knew the house was deserted. Septimus felt at a loss. He realized he was also hoping for Marcellus's company-and advice. "He's not here," he said flatly.

Jenna was puzzled. "He must be. All these candles are lit."

"He always does that," said Septimus. "I've told him that one day he'll come back to find his house burned down but he doesn't listen."

"I don't want to stay here on my own, I really don't," Jenna said anxiously. "It's so creepy . . ."

"Let's go," said Septimus. "We'll sit it out on Spit Fyre and wait for him to come back."

"I'm not leaving the Castle," said Jenna, a warning in her voice.

"Neither am I. We'll just kind of hover. We'll be safe on Spit Fyre." Septimus opened the door and stepped outside. Jenna heard a sharp intake of breath.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Spit Fyre. He's gone."

Chapter 33.

Thieves in the Night

As Jenna and Septimus stood on the lonely slipway, the dark waters of the Moat to their right and the spreading Darkenesse of the Castle all around them, they heard an echoing, flip-flapping noise coming toward them.

"Quick, Jen. Let's get back inside."

Jenna nodded. The noise sounded horribly like an approaching Thing. Septimus was fumbling with the key when a voice called out, "Apprentice! Apprentice!"

The fl.u.s.tered figure of Marcellus Pye, with one shoe looking like a dog had mangled it, appeared from a gap between two houses and hurried toward them. "Thank goodness you are here." He bowed slightly to Jenna, as he always did, and then succeeded in annoying her-as he always did. "Princess. I did not recognize you at first. You do realize you are wearing the cloak of a true witch?"

"Yes. I do, thank you," said Jenna. "And before you ask, the answer is no, I will not take it off."

Marcellus surprised her. "I should hope not. It may prove useful. And you will not be the first Witch Princess in the Castle."

"Oh." Jenna was not entirely pleased. She had rather a.s.sumed that she was the first Witch Princess.

"Marcellus," said Septimus urgently. "Jenna needs to stay somewhere safe. I thought your SafeChamber-"

Marcellus did not let Septimus finish. "It is not safe here, Apprentice. Miss Djinn knows I have a SafeChamber-all Chambers are declared to the Chief Hermetic Scribe-and I fear our Chief Hermetic Scribe has already given away our secrets." Marcellus shook his head sadly. He hated to see what had happened to the Ma.n.u.scriptorium. "There are Things abroad already," he continued. "They will come here soon enough, and Princess Jenna will be trapped like a rat. We must go somewhere the Darke Domaine will have trouble finding."

"But the Darke Domaine is spreading fast," said Septimus. "It will soon be everywhere. Jenna should leave the Castle."

"Sep, I'm actually still here," said Jenna, annoyed. "And I am not leaving the Castle."

"Quite right, Princess," said Marcellus. "Now, I believe that the Domaine will have some trouble getting into the Ramblings, and even once it's inside it will not find it easy to spread. So I suggest we head there and . . . what is that Young Army term, Apprentice?"

"Regroup?" Septimus offered.

"Ah, yes. Regroup. Ideally, what we need is an overlooked little fleapit down a dead end, with an outside window."

Jenna knew exactly where to find one. She pulled out the key that Silas had given her not so very long ago.

"What's that?" asked Septimus.

"It's a key, Sep," teased Jenna.