Septimus Heap 4 : Queste(67)

Rupert Gringe knew what the problem was. When he had seen Jannit set off that morning carrying the Indentures, he had guessed what she was doing. Rupert was not a great fan of the Heap family, particularly now that his sister Lucy had run off with Simon blasted Heap—as Rupert always called him—but he, too, was unhappy about Nicko’s disappearance.

Rupert was not sure he believed all the stories that were going around the Castle about Nicko being trapped in another Time, but it was plain that something nasty had happened to him and Rupert was very sorry about that.

Although at first he had been extremely dubious about Jannit taking on a Heap, Rupert had grown to like and respect Nicko. He was fun to have around and always willing to sail down to the Port and have a laugh. And since Nicko had gone, Rupert had realized how much work Nicko had done—more than two yard hands’ worth put together, he told Jannit. But even though they could never replace Nicko, they needed a new apprentice before the summer season began.

That afternoon, when Jannit had returned from the Palace, Rupert watched her wander slowly over to her ramshackle hut at the entrance to the boatyard. There was a small shed attached to the side of the hut where the junior apprentice slept, and Rupert saw her gingerly push open the door and go inside. Half an hour later Jannit came and found him.

“Need a hand,” was all she said.

What Jannit needed a hand with was tin trunk with NICKO HEAP painted on the top in spidery writing. Rupert helped her carry it over to the old lock-up.

“Keep it in there until he gets back,” said Jannit.

“Yeah. Until he gets back,” Rupert said. Then he went and sat on the bowsprit of the Port Sloop for half an hour and watched the muddy waters of the Moat drift by.

SIMON AND LUCY

Simon and Lucy made it safely over the river, paid a small fortune to get Thunder out of the Ferry stables and then set off for the Port. It was a subdued journey—being back in the Castle had upset them both.

Simon had been shocked to see the Wizard Tower in a state of Siege. It had made him realize how important the place was to him and how much he cared that it continued unharmed. And with this insight had come the unwelcome realization that through his actions of the last three years he had thrown away any chance he might have had of one day becoming an Ordinary Wizard (which Simon would have gladly settled for now) and actually being able to live and work in such a wonderful, Magykal place. Now he was unlikely to even see the Wizard Tower again.

Lucy sat behind Simon and looked back mournfully. Thunder trotted briskly along the riverbank path and, as the Castle disappeared behind Raven’s Rock, Lucy wished she had been brave enough to say hello to her father when she had gone to the gatehouse the morning after they had arrived. He had looked tired and careworn—and so much smaller than she had remembered. Lucy didn’t really know why she hadn’t dared to tell him she was there. Well, she did know—it was the thought of a full-blown Mrs. Gringe tantrum. But now she really wished she had. How long would it be before she saw her parents again? Years probably, she thought. And she would never be able to bring Simon to meet them. Not that they would want to, she thought gloomily.

As Thunder trotted along, in high spirits after leaving the damp and dingy stables, Lucy made an effort to brighten the gloom. “At least Marcia didn’t put you in the lock-up,” she said. “She can’t be totally mad.”

“Huh,” was Simon’s response. But then, later, “I hope she looks after Sleuth. That blasted Merrin took it before it was completely ReCharged. I think I’ll send her the instructions.”

“Si, you can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Oh, Simon. You don’t give up, do you?”

“No, Luce. I don’t.”

MERRIN

The beginning of Merrin’s employment at the Manuscriptorium was not the best. After the shock of being confronted by Simon—and the unexpected loss of Sleuth—Merrin ate his entire licorice snake supply. By mid-afternoon he felt sick and very irritable. When Foxy asked him to fetch a copy of the Cameloleopard Conundrum Pamphlet from the Wild Book Store, Merrin—who was terrified of the store after Beetle’s lurid tales—told Foxy to get it himself. Foxy looked shocked. Beetle never

would have done that. Foxy then proceeded, in Merrin’s opinion, to get very unreasonable. Merrin promptly told Foxy what he could do with his precious Camel-thingies and Foxy stomped back to his desk in a huff.

Merrin listened at the door for a while, but like all listeners, he did not hear anything good about himself. He decided to leave them to it and go stock up on snakes. He snuck out, locking the door behind him to make sure that no customers could get in, then he crossed Wizard Way and headed into the tangle of alleys that would take him—he hoped—to Ma Custard’s All-Day-All-Night Sweet Shop.

But the alleys were not as Merrin remembered them—someone had changed them just to annoy him. By the time Merrin eventually found Ma Custard’s, he was very hungry. Which was probably why he bought three dozen licorice snakes, two bags of spider floss, a box of toffee termites and a whole jar of banana bears. Ma Custard asked Merrin if he was having a party. Merrin wasn’t quite sure what a party was, so he said yes. Ma Custard gave him a tub of crumbly cocoa crumbs “for his little friends.”

Merrin decided it was too late to bother going back to the Manuscriptorium that day. After eating three snakes dipped in cocoa crumbs and ten banana bears, Merrin felt quite brave. He went to the Palace kitchen garden, retrieved his things from the horrible shed and, safe in the knowledge that Simon Heap had been thrown out of the Castle, he reclaimed his room.

The ghost of the governess fled sobbing to the old schoolroom.

At the Manuscriptorium at half past five precisely, the scribes leaped from their desks and rushed to the front door. It was locked. The Manuscriptorium had a One and All

Spell on the outside doors—if one was locked, all were locked. The scribes had to wait until Jillie Djinn emerged from the Hermetic Chamber some two hours later before they could get out. They spent the time discussing in some detail what they intended to do to Merrin when they finally got him.

When Merrin turned up the next day he had some explaining to do, but he had a good line in tall stories and Jillie Djinn (unlike the scribes) believed him. Jillie was not about to admit that she had made a bad choice—and who else but Merrin would be perfectly happy counting the entire stock of Manuscriptorium used pencils and arranging them according to Miss Djinn’s new cataloging system, which depended on the number of teeth marks on each pencil?

STANLEY

The beginning of Stanley’s Message Rat Service was not all that he had hoped for. After he had turned down Ephaniah Grebe’s offer of staff, Stanley found that word had spread about the reinstated message rat service and soon a steady trickle of customers found their way to the East Gate Lookout Tower.

Stanley was somewhat irritated by the sudden craze for silly birthday messages among the younger Castle inhabitants, and after—for the third time that day—he had flatly refused to sing a birthday greeting, he began to seriously consider packing in the whole enterprise.

The night after he had not only been asked to sing a message but also to perform a dance, Stanley went for a late night scramble along the Outside Path to clear his head. Stanley liked the Outside Path. It ran along the Castle Walls and was at some points—as Septimus had once found out—nothing more than a narrow ridge. Stanley didn’t believe the tales about Things walking the path; in fact, he didn’t believe in Things at all. But it was a dark night and when, at a particularly narrow and crumbly section, he heard scrabbling and a high-pitched squeaking right in front of him, Stanley suddenly discovered that he did believe in Things

after all. It was not a good moment, and he very nearly jumped into the Moat there and then.

But Stanley hated getting wet and the Moat looked dark and cold. He decided that the Thing would not be interested in a mere rat, and if he kept very still it would probably go away. But the noises did not go away. And the more Stanley listened, the more he realized how much they sounded like rat squeaks—baby rat squeaks.

Dawn was breaking by the time Stanley was back in the East Gate Lookout Tower—and he was no longer alone. With him were four cold, hungry and very small orphan ratlets.

SYRAH SYARA

When Syrah saw the long knives of the Questing Guards, she knew she was in trouble. With no time to say a proper farewell to Julius Pike, whom she loved like a father, Syrah was bundled onto the Questing Boat. As soon as she set foot upon the deck, Syrah felt her Magykal powers drain away.

Seen off by a triumphant Tertius Fume, the Questing Boat set off fast. A Magykal wind filled its sails, and soon they were sailing past the Port and out to sea. Syrah refused to go below. She sat, shivering in the wind and the rain as the Questing Boat

cut through the waves. Syrah stayed awake all through the first night and the following day, eyes wide—hardly daring to even blink—keeping a close eye on the Questing Guards and their sharp knives.

Syrah knew that as soon as she fell asleep, she was as good as dead. And as the second night on the deck of the Questing Boat

drew on, Syrah felt her eyelids droop and the lure of sleep become irresistible. As she gazed out across the calm sea, watching the distant loom of a lighthouse, the rhythmic movement of the boat lulled her into a brief sleep. She woke with a start to find three Guards advancing on her with their knives drawn.