Septimus Heap 4 : Queste(60)

I am pwesent in sun, but not in wain,

I do no harm, I feel no pain.

What am I?”

This time Jenna was stumped. What else was on the map? There was nothing she could remember.

“I’m wait—ing,” said the DoorKeeper in a singsong sneer. “You have one minute to answer and then I shall let the Questor in. Alone. You two can go home—if you pay the Toll-Man enough.” He gave a horrible chuckle.

In a panic, Jenna unfolded the map.

“No cheating. I said no cheating!” The DoorKeeper screamed excitedly. He snatched the map and began tearing it into shreds.

“No!” yelled Jenna, lunging forward to grab the map. “Give it back!”

“Jen, Jen, we don’t need it anymore,” said Septimus, pulling Jenna back. “We’ve got to keep calm and think.”

“Twenty seconds,” came the DoorKeeper’s taunting squeak. “Fifteen seconds…ten, nine, eight, seven—”

Septimus summoned up Snorri’s drawing in his mind—the snake, the key, the shaded House of Foryx.

“Four, thwee, two…”

And then he got it.

“One—”

“Shadow!”

The DoorKeeper glared at them. He said nothing, though the door spoke for him as he heaved it open with a chorus of groans and Septimus stepped over the threshold. But as Jenna went to follow the DoorKeeper began to push the door closed.

“No!” yelled Beetle. “You let Jenna in.” He leaped forward and threw himself at the door. The DoorKeeper staggered back, the door flew open and Jenna, Beetle and Septimus fell into the House of Foryx.

The door slammed behind them with a bang.

“Oh no!” Beetle gasped, suddenly realizing his mistake. “Let me out, let me out!”

It was too late. Time was suspended.





45


THE HOUSE OF FORYX

O h, pigs,” said Beetle. “Pigs pigs pigs.”

“Oh…Beetle,” whispered Jenna, feeling sick.

“I don’t believe I could be so stupid. How are we going to get back into our Time now?”

The DoorKeeper looked up at Beetle. “Time?” he said with a lopsided grin. “What is Time now that you are here?

Welcome to the House of Fowyx.”

They were in the checkerboard lobby that Aunt Ells had described—but the tall dragon chair that Aunt Ells had so resolutely sat on was empty. Jenna felt overwhelmed by disappointment. She had expected Nicko to be sitting on the chair waiting for them just as Aunt Ells had done, and he wasn’t there.

“Leave your bags here,” said the DoorKeeper, pointing to a large cupboard.

Jenna took out Ullr from her backpack and tucked him firmly under her arm—much to the DoorKeeper’s surprise. The DoorKeeper threw the bags into the cupboard, and then turned to watch the new arrivals.

In front of them was a pair of silver doors—a smaller version of those in the Wizard Tower, although much more ornate, as they were covered with hieroglyphs. The DoorKeeper pushed them open and ushered Jenna, Septimus and Beetle into the House of Foryx. They stood stock still, three small figures dwarfed between two huge marble pillars, the snow on their boots melting in the warmth and making puddles on the white marble floor. Before them was a great space lit with thousands of candles and yet still shadowy and dim.

Jenna felt dizzy, as though she were standing on the edge of a whirling carousel in a foggy, silent fairground, waiting for her turn—and she did not want her turn to come. Septimus was reminded of the Wizard Tower. There was a certain sense of things not being quite what they appeared to be, a feeling of things shifting slightly whenever you tried to focus on them, giving the sensation that the more you looked, the less you saw. Beetle was reminded of something too—the inside of the Dangerous Bin in the yard at the Manuscriptorium. On a dare he had once taken off the lid and seen a deep, foggy whirlpool inside that had made him want to dive in and swim around and around forever—until Foxy had grabbed his collar and pulled him away.

The DoorKeeper regarded their expressions with amusement. He generally made a point of being unamused by everything, but he made an exception for the expressions on the faces of newcomers as they tried to make sense of the Eddies of Time. After some minutes, having had his fill of fun for the day—indeed for the next few months—the DoorKeeper scuttled off through a tiny gilded door in the pillar next to Jenna and slammed it shut.

The slamming of the door brought them back to reality. “Come on,” whispered Septimus. “Let’s go in.” They linked arms and together they stepped into the slow, muggy vortex of candle smoke and Time.

They walked hesitantly forward, feeling as though they were wading through treacle, forcing themselves through an invisible barrier. Septimus held out the Questing Stone, which sat, hot, in his hand, glowing a brilliant fiery red. It shone like a beacon, clearing a path through the haze. As they pushed their way deeper into the House of Foryx, shadowy shapes that they had at first taken for drifts of candle smoke and disturbances in the air became clearer. Figures began to emerge from the miasma and circle around them.

“There are ghosts in here,” Beetle whispered. “Tons of ’em.”

“They’re not ghosts,” said Septimus. “They’re real. I mean…alive. I can hear them. I can Hear the Sounds of Human Heartbeats. Hundreds of them.”

“What are they doing?” Jenna whispered.

“The same as us, I expect,” said Septimus. “Trying to get back to their own Time.”

“But we’re not doing that.”

“We will be.”

Jenna said nothing. Beetle felt awful.

The figures around them became increasingly solid; their robes took on colors and shapes and their faces became clear.

There were farmers, hunters, women in fine clothes, serving men and women in rough tunics, knights in all kinds of armor and finery, a large family of exotic-looking people festooned with gold with an interesting line in pointy headgear.

Ullr was restless. He struggled in Jenna’s arms, trying to jump down. But Jenna clutched the cat even more tightly. The last thing she needed right now was to lose Ullr.

Jenna and Septimus were scanning the crowd, hoping to see the familiar sight of Nicko’s fair curls and Snorri’s white-blond hair. They began to realize that they, too, had become visible, and that they—and the Questing Stone in particular—were the center of attention.

Suddenly the crowd parted and a young woman in a threadbare green cloak and tunic made her way to the front, heading straight for Septimus. She fixed Septimus with her surprisingly brilliant green eyes and pointed a long, delicate finger at the Stone. “You have the Questing Stone,” she said in amazement.

Septimus nodded.

“And what are you called?”

“Um. Septimus. Septimus Heap.”

The girl looked at Septimus with a puzzled expression. “Well, Septimus Heap, you are very…short,” she said as if searching for the right words.

“Short?” asked Septimus indignantly.

“I mean…young. You are very young. Surely you have not finished your Apprenticeship?”

“No…I haven’t,” he replied, puzzled.

“So what, pray, are you doing on the Queste?” demanded the girl, sounding a little like Marcia.

“I—I’m not really on the Queste,” stammered Septimus. “Or rather…I didn’t mean to go on the Queste. Someone gave me the Stone and I took it by mistake.”

“By mistake?” The girl now sounded completely like Marcia. “How very foolish. Still, we can’t be choosy. My Master will just have to make do with you. We were expecting great things but now…” The girl looked Septimus up and down with an expression that said she had no expectations of any kind—let alone great ones—when it came to Septimus.

Jenna had been impatiently waiting for her chance to ask the girl if she had seen Nicko, but as she opened her mouth to speak, a tall, important-looking woman swept up to them. She was wearing a dark blue fur-edged robe and her long face reminded Beetle of a horse he used to feed apples to on the way to school. She pushed aside the grumpy girl in green.

“Welcome to Eternity,” said the woman.

“Eternity?” Beetle gasped. “Are we dead?”

“You are alive in all Times, and yet dead in all Times,” she replied. “Welcome.”

Beetle thought it was not the best welcome he had ever had. He glanced at Jenna and Septimus. They did not look too thrilled either.

“I am the Guardian of this House,” the horse-faced woman continued. “This House is a Place of Waiting. Here you will want for nothing, for here you will want nothing. Many arrive but few wish to leave.”

A dark-haired young woman wearing a long white fur cloak and a large amount of gold jewelery pushed forward. “Some of us wish to leave,” she interrupted the Guardian. The young woman looked at Jenna, Septimus and Beetle. “I can smell the snow on you,” she said longingly. “I come from the Palaces of the Eastern SnowPlains. All I wish is to go home to my family. But you have Come In and told no one your Time. No one has had the chance to go.”

The girl in green who, Septimus now realized, was wearing a very ancient Apprentice tunic—one of the full-length ones with the old hieroglyphs—was getting impatient. “Madam Guardian,” she said. “I have come to take the Apprentice boy to our Master.”