Septimus Heap: Darke Part 5

Silas nodded. He put the key in the lock, and Jenna thought she saw a small flash of Magyk-at least, she hoped she did. Silas turned the key. It went halfway around and stuck.

"It's Jammed," he said. "You try it, Jenna."

To Jenna's relief, the key was indeed stuck fast. "It is," she agreed. "It's Jammed."

The Bringer of the Book wore a distinctly suspicious expression.

"Would you like to try?" Jenna asked, offering her the key.

The Bringer of the Book s.n.a.t.c.hed the key, pushed it into the lock and gave it a fearsome twist. Jenna could see she meant business and hoped that Silas's spell held out. It did. Reluctantly, after a lot of vigorous twisting and poking at the lock, the Bringer of the Book returned the key.

"Very well," she sighed. "The ReTiring Room will do just as well."

Jenna refrained from asking why she hadn't said that in the first place. She figured she knew the answer already. The Bringer of the Book wanted to bask in the reflected glory of the Throne Room. Jenna had met many people like her in Queen Etheldredda's Palace, which was where she had begun to learn how to deal with them.

The ReTiring Room was intended as a personal s.p.a.ce for the Queen to put on her ceremonial robes and to retreat to from the Throne Room if she needed. It was dusty and dark, but Jenna liked it and often used it as a quiet place to work. With the Bringer of the Book trailing behind her, Jenna led the way into the ReTiring Room. Silas excused himself and left; this time Jenna did not object.

The ReTiring Room was long and narrow, with one tall window at the end that looked out over Wizard Way. A shabby curtain on the right side of the room covered a door that led to the Throne Room, which was impa.s.sable due to a large plank Jenna had hammered across it. The room was extremely chilly, but a fire was laid ready in the small grate. Jenna took the tinderbox from the chimneypiece and struck a yellow flame into the dry moss at the base of the fire. She used the flame to light the candles as well, and soon the room glowed with a yellow light and looked much warmer than it actually was.

The Bringer of the Book fussily settled herself at a small desk below the window. From an array of mismatched but comfortable chairs Jenna took the chair she liked to curl up and read in-a battered red and gold one with a pile of cus.h.i.+ons and a wonky leg-and pushed it toward the fire.

It was a long and tedious three hours but at the end of it, as she stood at the Palace door, watching the Bringer of the Book sail off down the Palace Drive, her ribbons fluttering in the cold wind that was blowing in off the river, Jenna held in her hand a small red book ent.i.tled The Queen Rules.

Jenna went straight back up to the ReTiring Room. She closed the door with a feeling of relief to have the place to herself once more, then pulled her chair even closer to the fire and looked at the little red leather book. It was so delicate. The pale red leather was soft to the touch, well worn and rubbed-she realized with a s.h.i.+ver of goose b.u.mps-by the fingers of her mother, her grandmother and her many great-grandmothers before her. The pages, edged with gold leaf, were made of delicate paper so transparent that they were printed only on one side. The spelling was bizarre and the type was tiny and full of swirls and curlicues, which was why it had taken so long for the Bringer of the Book to read-and explain-the entire contents to Jenna. But now that she was at last alone with her book, Jenna turned to the page that she wanted to reread the most: Protocol: Wizard Tower (N.B. Subst.i.tute P-I-W for Queen if appropriate) After her three-hour tutorial, Jenna now knew that "P-I-W" meant Princess-in-Waiting. There were two sections that particularly interested Jenna.

SECTION I: THE RIGHT TO KNOW.

The P-I-W has a Right To Know all facts pertaining to the security and wellbeing of the Castle and the Palace. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard (or, in absentia, the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice) is required to answer all the P-I-W's questions truthfully, fully and without delay.

Jenna smiled. She liked the sound of that, but she was willing to bet Marcia didn't. She read the second section even more carefully.

SECTION II: PALACE SECURITY.

It is for the P-I-W to deem if a matter relates to Palace Security. If she deems it to be so, she may Call upon the ExtraOrdinary Wizard or the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice to a.s.sist at Any Time. This Call will be given priority over all other matters at the Wizard Tower. So Be It.

Huh, thought Jenna. Sep had obviously not read this.

She reread the second pa.s.sage, smiling at the hand-drawn, heavy red lines below the words "P-I-W," "Any Time" and "all." It seemed that she was not the only Princess-in-Waiting to have this kind of trouble. She particularly liked what was written at the foot of the page in a different but equally determined hand: "Wizards are replaceable. The Queen is not."

Jenna uncurled herself from her chair like a cat. She got up, dampened the fire and closed the door on the ReTiring Room, leaving it to settle into its stillness once more. She would go straight to the Wizard Tower and do a bit of deeming. Right now.

On her way out, Jenna b.u.mped into Sarah who, with the help of Billy Pot and the cook, had begun to put up bunting in the entrance hall.

"Has Dolly gone?" asked Sarah.

"Who?"

"Dolly Bingle. She works in the fish shop down by the New Quay. I knew I'd seen her before. Funny how different she looks with a bit of gold flummery and her hair out of a fish net."

"The Bringer of the Book was Dolly Bingle?" Jenna was stunned.

"Yes, it was. And Dolly knows perfectly well who I am. I shall expect some cheap haddock when I next go there," said Sarah with a wicked grin.

Chapter 8.

Chemistry

On the way down the Palace drive Jenna remembered her walk with Septimus the previous evening. The memory still upset her but now, with The Queen Rules safely in her pocket, it annoyed her too. Septimus had treated her as though she was no more than an irritating child. And here she was chasing after him again, about to give him the opportunity to behave in exactly the same way. Why did she need his opinion on what was going on in the Palace attic? He wasn't the only one who knew stuff-there was someone much nearer who would actually be glad to help.

A few minutes later Jenna was standing outside Larry's Dead Languages Translation Service. She took a deep breath and readied herself to step inside. Jenna didn't like Larry and Larry clearly didn't like her. However, she did not take this personally because, so far as she could tell, Larry didn't like anyone. Which made it very odd, she thought, that Beetle had not only taken a job as Larry's transcription scribe but, now that his mother had moved down to the Port, was living there too.

Bracing herself for the caustic remarks that always accompanied her entrance, Jenna put her shoulder to the shop door and shoved (the door was notoriously stiff-Larry liked people to really want to get into his shop). The door flew open with unusual ease, Jenna hurtled across the shop and crashed into a pile of ma.n.u.scripts on which a tall, expensive-looking vase was precariously balanced.

Accompanied by the sound of Larry's throaty chuckle coming from the upstairs gallery, Beetle performed an impressive flying catch and saved the vase just before it crashed to the floor.

He helped Jenna to her feet. "Hey, are you all right?" he asked.

Winded, Jenna nodded.

Beetle took Jenna's arm and led her through the shop to the library at the back, saying loudly, "I have your translations ready, Princess Jenna. Perhaps you'd like to take a look?"

As they disappeared out of Larry's earshot, Beetle said, "I'm really, really sorry about the door. I didn't have time to warn you. Larry oiled it yesterday afternoon and set up the vase on top of the ma.n.u.scripts. Since then he's sat upstairs in the gallery waiting for people to do exactly what you did just now. He's charged three people for breaking the vase-and they've paid."

"Three?"

"Yep. He sticks it back together after each time."

Bemused, Jenna shook her head. "Beetle, I really don't know why you want to work here-let alone live here. Especially as Marcia offered you a place at the Wizard Tower."

Beetle shrugged. "I love the old ma.n.u.scripts and their weird languages. And I'm learning all kinds of stuff; you'd be amazed at what people bring in. Besides, I'm not Magykal. The Wizard Tower would drive me nuts."

Jenna nodded. The Wizard Tower would drive her nuts too. But so would working for Larry.

As if he'd read her mind, Beetle said, "You know, after working for Jillie Djinn, Larry's not so bad. And I like living on Wizard Way. It's fun. Fancy a FizzFroot?"

Jenna smiled. "You got one in chocolate?"

Beetle looked crestfallen. "Sorry, no. They only come in fruit flavors."

Jenna took her much-loved Chocolate Charm from her pocket. "We could try them with this," she said.

"Okay," said Beetle a little doubtfully. "Larry!" he called out. "I'm going for my break."

Jenna heard a gruff, "Ten minutes and no more," from the gallery and followed Beetle to a small, incredibly filthy kitchen right at the back of the shop.

"Happy Birthday," said Beetle. He looked embarra.s.sed. "I . . . I've got something for you but it's not wrapped up yet. I wasn't expecting to see you until this evening."

Jenna looked embarra.s.sed too. "Oh. Gosh. That's not why I came. I wasn't expecting anything."

"Oh. And, um, sorry about the mess," Beetle said, suddenly seeing the kitchen through Jenna's eyes. "Larry gets really angry if I clear it up. He says mold is good for you."

"Slime too?" asked Jenna, looking at a bag of carrots that were pooling across the floor.

Beetle felt mortified. "Let's go to Wizard Sandwiches," he said. "I'm owed some time."

Some ten minutes later-after Jenna had witnessed a new and impressive Beetle telling Larry he was taking his lunch hour now and it was actually going to be one whole hour-they were sitting at a small window table in Wizard Sandwiches' newly opened upstairs cafe. They made a striking couple. Beetle wore his blue and gold admiral's jacket and his thick black hair was, for once, behaving just the way he wanted it to. Jenna's gold circlet shone softly in the light of the small candle that stood in a pool of wax on their table. She sat with her red, fur-lined cloak still pulled around her, slowly warming up after the chill of the outside, while she gazed around the exuberantly painted room with its steamed-up windows. Jenna noticed with relief that no one was staring at her (the members of the Wizard Sandwiches Cooperative did not believe in hierarchical systems and acted accordingly). She felt like an everyday person-a grown-up everyday person going out to lunch. Even better than that, she had her happy and excited birthday feeling back.

"What would you like?" asked Beetle. He offered Jenna the menu, which was covered with Wizard Sandwiches in-jokes and colorful drawings of sandwiches but offered no clue as to what the sandwiches might contain.

Jenna picked a tall, triangular stack of small sandwiches called "Edifice." Beetle chose a large cube-shaped sandwich called "Chemistry." He took the menu and went up to the counter to order (Wizard Sandwiches did not believe in the servitude of waitstaff. This also kept the wage bills down.) Beetle returned carrying two WizzFizz specials, which were as near to a FizzFroot as it was possible to get. He set a pink and green drink in front of Jenna with a flourish.

"Minty strawberry," he said. "It's new."

"Thank you," Jenna said, feeling suddenly shy. Being out with Beetle like this felt different from being with Beetle in the everyday way she had become used to. It seemed that Beetle felt the same, as for some minutes they both looked intently out the window, although there was little to see apart from a wintry Wizard Way and a couple of people scurrying along with boxes of candles in preparation for the Longest Night illuminations.

Eventually Jenna spoke. "Actually, I wanted to ask you something," she said.

"Did you?" Beetle felt pleased.

"Yes. I asked Sep last night and he won't do anything."

Beetle felt rather less pleased. Jenna did not notice. She carried on, "Sep's weird at the moment, don't you think? I've asked him a few times now and he's always made excuses."

Beetle now felt distinctly un-pleased. He was tired of being second best to Septimus. It was, in fact, one of the reasons why he had refused Marcia's offer of a place at the Wizard Tower.

"Edifice! Chemistry!" A shout came from the counter.

Beetle got up to collect the sandwiches, leaving Jenna with a vague feeling that she had said something wrong. He returned with a teetering stack of triangles and a huge cube.

"Wow," said Jenna. "Thank you." She tentatively took the top triangle off the pile and bit into it. It was a delicious mixture of chopped smoked fish and cuc.u.mber with Wizard Sandwiches' famous sandwich sauce.

Beetle regarded his large cube with dismay. It was one solid lump of bread made from half a loaf. In it were drilled nine holes filled with different colored jams and sauces, and from the center hole a wisp of smoke was rising. Beetle knew at once he had made a mistake; he just knew that when he tried to eat it, the colored gloop would run down his face and drip on the table and he would look like a kid. Why hadn't he chosen something simple?

Beetle began sawing at his cube. The multicolored gloop ran across his plate and swirled into a thick rainbow puddle. Beetle began to turn pink. His sandwich was an utter disaster.

"So . . . um, what is it you wanted Sep to do?" he asked, trying to deflect attention from the accident on his plate.

"There's something going on in the Palace. In the attic," said Jenna. "No one's allowed up there since that stuff with Dad and the Sealed Room-even I don't go there-but sometimes when I'm in my room I hear footsteps above my head."

"Probably rats," said Beetle, staring at "Chemistry" in dismay. "There're some big ones down by the river."

"It's human," whispered Jenna.

"But some ghosts make footstep noises," said Beetle. "It's one of the easiest things a ghost can Cause. And you have a load of ghosts at the Palace."

Jenna shook her head. That was what Silas and Sarah had said too.

"But Beetle, someone is using those stairs-the dust is worn away from the middle of the treads. I thought it was Mum, as she does wander around a bit at night when she can't sleep, but when I asked her about it she said she hadn't been up there for ages. So yesterday I decided to go up and have a look."

Beetle looked up from the mangled mess on his plate. "What did you see?"

Jenna told Beetle what had happened the previous evening. By the time she had finished, Beetle wore a look of consternation.

"That's not good. Sounds like you might have an Infestation," he said.

"What, like c.o.c.kroaches or something?" Jenna was puzzled.

"No. I didn't mean that kind of infestation. It's what we used to call it in the Ma.n.u.scriptorium. I suppose Wizards might have a different name for it."

"For what?"

Beetle also lowered his voice-it wasn't good to talk about the Darke in a public place. "For when something Darke moves into someone's house. In fact, it sounds like something might be setting up a"-he glanced around to check that no one was listening-"a Darke Domaine."

Jenna s.h.i.+vered. She didn't like the sound of that at all. "What's a Darke Domaine?" she whispered.

"It's like a kind of foggy pool of Darke. It can get really powerful if it's not gotten rid of. It grows by drawing strength from people, and it lures them in with promises of all the things they long for."

"You mean there might really be something nasty in the attic?" Jenna looked scared. She hadn't quite believed it until now.

From what Jenna had just told him, Beetle thought it was highly likely. "Well, yes. You know, I think you should really get Marcia to have a look."

"But if I ask Marcia to come today, Mum will throw a fit." Jenna thought for a moment. "Beetle, I'd really appreciate your advice first. If you say it's a"-she too glanced around-"you-know-what, then I'll go straight to Marcia. I promise."

Beetle could not refuse. "Okay," he said.

"Oh, thank you." Jenna smiled.

Beetle took out his treasured timepiece. "Suppose I come round, let's see . . . about half-past three. Gives me time to pick up a SafeCharm from the Charm desk at the Wizard Tower. It will still be daylight then. You don't want to go near that kind of stuff after dark."

It was then that Jenna remembered that the last time Beetle helped her, he had lost his job. "But what about Larry? What about your job?"

Beetle grinned. "Don't worry, I'll fix it with Larry. He owes me a lot of time. And Larry's okay as long as you tell him what you're doing. He's nothing like Jillie Djinn, so don't you worry about that. Half-past three at the Palace Gate?"

"Oh, thank you, Beetle. Thank you." Jenna regarded the gooey mess on Beetle's plate, which was beginning to fizz alarmingly. She pushed her stack of sandwiches to the middle of the table. "Let's share," she said. "I can't possibly eat them all."