Authors: Angie Sage
Fyre (35 page)
“Is my Merrin really in danger?” she asked Alther.
“Unfortunately, madam, he is.”
“Why?” demanded Nursie—quite understandably, Alther thought.
“It relates to the
Darke
ring he used to wear, madam.”
“But he doesn’t have it anymore. Look. Show them, Merrin.”
Merrin meekly held up his bandaged hand.
“Indeed, madam. But the two
Darke
Wizards who were in the ring have escaped. This puts your son in great danger. Which is why we wish to take him to the Wizard Tower for his own protection.”
Nursie was suspicious. “Why do you care about him all of a sudden? You never did before.”
“It is to do with the ring, madam,” said Alther, who tried to never tell a lie.
Nursie narrowed her eyes and looked at Alther. “If you wasn’t such a nice, honest-looking gentleman, I’d say you was thinking of using my Merrin as bait,” she said.
“Bait!” gasped Alther.
“To get the ring back.”
“Oh. Goodness me!”
“Near the mark, am I?” asked Nursie.
“No, no!” Alther rapidly abandoned his principles for the greater good. “We would not dream of doing such a thing. Oh, dear me, no.”
“And he’ll be safe in the Castle?”
“As safe as we can make him, madam.”
“Very well. On one condition,” said Nursie.
“Yes, madam. And what would that be?”
“I will take him myself. I am not letting my Merrin out of my sight ever again.”
Alther knew when to give in. Short of abducting Merrin by force—and with Nursie present he didn’t give much for their chances—it was the best they were going get.
“Very well, madam. I beg the honor of escorting you.”
“To make sure we don’t escape?” asked Nursie.
“No, madam, not at all. To try to protect you from the
Darke
Wizards.” And this time, Alther did indeed speak the truth.
They were just in time to catch the late Barge to the Castle. Merrin and Nursie joined the Barge’s only passengers—two excitable women who were planning to join a
Magyk
tour of the Castle the following morning. They took their seats under cover and wrapped themselves in the rough barge blankets provided for nighttime journeys. Alther hovered above the barge, watching for any signs of trouble. But despite the wind and the spattering of rain that was beginning to fall, all was quiet. It seemed as though the whole Port had gone early to bed.
Septimus, Simon and Jim Knee watched the barge edge away from the Quay and head out into the choppy waters of the river. They saw the wind catch its huge white sail and send it plowing rapidly through the spray. Very soon it was gone into the night, heading upriver to the Castle.
“It won’t take them long with this wind,” said Simon. “It will blow them straight there.”
Septimus and Simon headed away from the Barge Quay into the maze of alleyways that would take them back to the harbor front, where they could safely do their
Transports
back to the Castle. Jim Knee followed, debating with himself whether he might request being an owl for the return journey. He was so hungry that the idea of fresh mouse was quite appealing. And then he thought about mousetail and changed his mind.
Septimus was pleased with the way things had gone. “Bait dispatched,” he said. “Now all we have to do is wait for Edmund and Ernold to turn up for it.”
But seeing Merrin shivering in the barge, setting off into the night—and who knew what danger—had made Simon thoughtful. “Poor Merrin,” he said.
Septimus was not in the mood to feel sorry for Merrin. “None of this would have happened if he hadn’t taken the ring in the first place.”
“True,” agreed Simon. “But then, you could say the same about many things. None of it would have happened if DomDaniel hadn’t kidnapped him instead of you. Maybe you should be thankful to Merrin for taking your place.”
Septimus fell into kid-brother mode. “I wouldn’t have been such a little tick as him, even if it had been me,” he retorted.
Simon smiled ruefully. “You can’t know for sure. Not until you have walked the same road in the same shoes.”
“But my feet are different from his,” said Septimus.
“They are now. But baby feet are soft. You have to take care they don’t get squashed.” Simon grinned at Septimus. “Well, that’s what Lucy says, anyway.”
The alleyway narrowed and Septimus dropped back. They hurried, single file, through Fat Man’s Crush and Weasel Slip Slide and soon emerged onto the deserted harbor front.
“Ready to go?” Septimus asked Simon.
Simon nodded.
Septimus decided to give Jim Knee the choice of bird to
Transform
to—the jinnee had done well. “Time to go, Jim Knee. I’ll see you at the Castle—at the Port barge landing stage. We have someone to meet.
Transform
!”
There was a flash of yellow light, a small
pop
, and an albatross stood at Septimus’s feet. Septimus heard a sharp intake of breath from Simon.
“Oh,
no
.”
“It’s okay. I said he could be what he liked.”
“Not the stupid albatross. Over there.
Look!
”
Heart in mouth, Septimus looked up, expecting to see two wild Heap uncles heading their way. But hurrying out of the shadows came a very different Heap.
“It
can’t
be,” said Septimus.
“It is. It’s
Jenna
.”
“O
h, Sep. It is so
good to see you!” Jenna threw herself at Septimus and hugged him hard. “And you too, Simon.”
“What are you doing
here
, Jen?” Septimus whispered.
“You would not believe it, Sep. You just would
not
. She is totally, utterly
impossible
.”
“Who is?”
“The Queen—my
mother
. She is a complete control freak. Mum never,
ever
behaved like that.”
Septimus recognized the expression in Jenna’s eyes. “You mean you had a fight with the Queen?”
“You bet I did,” said Jenna.
“Wow.”
“I stuck it out for
forever
, Sep, until I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. I just
had
to come home.”
“You
walked out
?” Septimus was amazed.
“Yep. But I was so mad that I didn’t look where I was going and I ended up here. There’s a kind of crossroads in the Queen’s Way, I think.” Jenna grinned at Septimus. “And now I’m really glad I did.” She stood back and pushed her hair out of her eyes.
Jenna began to notice how oddly her brothers were behaving. They were standing really close to her—like a couple of guards—but neither of them was looking at her. Instead they were gazing around the empty harbor front like they were expecting someone else to arrive at any moment.
“Hey, you don’t look very pleased to see me,” Jenna said.
“We’re not,” said Simon tersely.
“Well, thank you, Simon Heap. Thank you
so
much.”
“He didn’t mean it like that, Jen,” Septimus whispered.
“Well how
did
he mean it, then?”
“There’s no time for this,” said Simon, also whispering. “Right now we need to get somewhere safe.”
Jenna was beginning to feel scared. She glanced around and thought for the first time how scary an empty harborside can be. “Why, aren’t we safe here?”
“No.”
“I guess it
is
creepy here. Anyway, I’m off. I’ve stayed here too long as it is—I really must get back and see Mum. I’m going to get the late Barge to the Castle.”
“You’ve missed it,” said Septimus.
A gust of wind whipped across the open harbor front, sending the ships rigging zinging, and a rumble of thunder drifted in from the ocean beyond. Jenna shivered. In her time away she had become accustomed to the heat. Suddenly she felt tired, cold and frightened. “Well, I suppose we can go back to the Port Palace,” she said reluctantly.
“Where’s that?” asked Simon, who knew the Port well, but had never seen or heard of a Palace.
Jenna pointed over to the Customs House, a tall building on the edge of the harbor front where Simon had, until recently, lived in one of the attic rooms. “There’s an alleyway down there.”
“No, there isn’t,” said Simon.
“Yes, there is,” said Jenna. “But you don’t see it—unless you’re with me. So, do you want to go there or not?”
A flash of something by the side of The Harbor and Dock Pie Shop caught Septimus’s eye. “Yes, we do. Right now,” he said, accompanied by the bang of Maureen’s broom as she chased out two rats she had found sleeping in the warmth beneath the pie ovens.
“Okay.” Jenna set off across the harbor front. Flanked on either side by her guards and waddled after by a reluctant albatross, who longed to be spreading its wings and lifting off into the wind, she led them into the shadows of an old brick wall beside the Customs House. Jenna turned to her brothers.
“Is that yours?” she asked, pointing to the albatross.
“Yes.” Septimus sighed. “It is.”
Jenna grinned. “You can bring your, er,
bird
too, Sep. This place even has an aviary.”
The albatross gave a raucous squawk of protest and pecked at Septimus’s foot.
“Ouch!” he said. “Okay, Jim Knee. I give you permission to
Transform
.”
With another
pop
and a yellow flash Jim Knee was once more back in human form, shivering in the chill wind. Albatross feathers were remarkably warm.
“I thought it might be you,” said Jenna with a smile. “The yellow beak was a giveaway.”
Jim Knee bowed politely. “Good evening, Your Majesty.”
To Septimus’s surprise Jenna did not object—as she certainly would have in the past. She merely replied, “Good evening, Jim Knee.”
Jenna turned to Septimus and Simon. “We’ll go in now.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on the old bricks. The bricks shimmered like stone on a hot day and slowly disappeared to reveal a ghostly archway. Septimus and Simon were impressed, Jim Knee less so—he’d seen plenty of these Arcane Alleys before, although this one looked rather smart compared to many of the dingy dives he had known. The name of the alley, he noticed, was The Queen’s Way.
“Okay, now it’s like going into the Queen’s Room. We all need to hold hands to get across the threshold,” said Jenna, holding out her hand to Septimus. He took Jim Knee’s hand, who took hold of Simon’s, and the chain followed on quickly, afraid that both the alley and Jenna would disappear. As Jenna crossed the threshold, a line of candles in golden holders sprang alight showing a narrow alley, glittering in tiny red and gold tiles snaking away into the darkness along the side of the Customs House.
Once everyone was safely in, Jenna waved her hand across the entrance and the view of the harbor faded away and was replaced by the other side of the brick wall. “Okay. We’re safe now,” she said. “No one can get in here.
Now
you can tell me what all the fuss is about.”
“It’s a long story,” said Septimus.
“It usually is, Sep,” said Jenna with a smile, “especially when you’re telling it. Come on, then, let’s get somewhere warm. And there’s someone else who’d like to hear the story too,” she added mysteriously.
Jenna set off along the winding Queen’s Way, which was quiet and still after the blustery harbor front and carried no sound from outside. She hurried forward and Septimus, Simon and Jim Knee followed in single file, their footfalls quiet on the smooth mosaic. Soon they were around the first bend and another line of candles sprang alight, illuminating the next stretch of the alleyway. This way and that the Queen’s Way took them until they had lost all sense of direction. As they rounded yet another bend Septimus—who was now a little taller than Jenna—could see over her shoulder to a wide wooden door, which formed the end of the alley. From a small window in the middle of the door shone a bright yellow light. The light grew brighter as they approached and soon Jenna was taking a large golden key from her pocket, unlocking the door and holding it open.
“Welcome to my Port Palace,” she said.
They stepped inside. A few fat candles on a table lit a wide passageway—which Jenna called the cross passage—with a warm glow. In the dim light Septimus could see that to his left was an ancient screen of dark wood carved with a series of crowns and initials, in the middle of which was an ornate door covered in gold leaf that glowed a deep red gold in the light of the candle flames. To his right was a plainer wooden screen, which had two smaller doors set into it.
Jim Knee put his hand out to touch the right-hand wooden screen, which was warm from the heat of the kitchen behind it—as he knew it would be. The jinnee felt a little strange. He took advantage of his Master being occupied to lean against the warm wood and think. Sometimes the incessant clatter of humans, particularly young ones, was too much for the jinnee and he longed for some stillness. The shadows of the cross passage gave him just that.
