by Angie Sage
“I’ll be off now,” Simon said.
“It’s dangerous out there, Si.” Jenna sounded worried. “Stay here the night.”
“Thank you, Jen,” Simon said, “but I must get back to Lucy.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. There are a few Darke tricks I have up my sleeve.”
“Simon!” Jenna sounded shocked.
“Needs must,” said Simon. Careful not to squash the rat, he gave her a hug. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
“Give Lucy my love,” Jenna said. “Tell her we’re going to get William back.”
“I will.” Simon headed for the Palace doors, where the ghost of a one-armed knight who guarded the door saluted smartly. “Good luck, Heap,” he said.
“Thank you, Sir Hereward,” Simon replied as he let himself out into the night. “I’m going to need it.”
MORRIS
Of all Stanley’s four foster ratlets, Morris knew the Castle the best. As soon as the ratlets had been old enough to go off on their own, Stanley had given each one a map and told them to run the Castle until they knew the place with their eyes closed. Morris had been the only one to do this literally. It had earned him a few bumps and bruises, but now his hard work had paid off. Scurrying through pipes, over rooftops, along the tops of walls and even, at one point, hurtling down a playground helter-skelter, Morris made his way steadily toward the Wizard Tower. The rat-runs kept him safe, but not all of them joined up, and every now and then Morris was forced out into the open. He was crossing the mouth of Measel’s Ope, which, like all alleys that led off Wizard Way, was lit at its entrance by two large lanterns, and was running through the pool of light when he smelled snake and dead dog.
Morris was so scared that he didn’t know where his feet were. He stared at the huge white shape that loomed out of the mist above him. He saw the flat snakehead dart down and as the cavern of the mouth loomed over him, Morris let out a high-pitched rat scream. The Garmin flinched—the creatures had sensitive ears—and its mouth snapped shut and Morris felt a terrible pain. And then he was free, running, running, running across the alley, diving into the pipe in the wall that went through to the Wizard Tower courtyard. Morris felt light-headed with excitement as he realized he had escaped, that he would be able to deliver his first, and probably his most important, message ever. He reached the foot of one of the massive buttresses of the Wizard Tower and scrambled into the rat tube. The tube was steep and winding and as he clambered up it, Morris began to feel oddly tired. He forced himself on and at last pushed open the rat flap and fell out into the fuzz of nighttime lights of the Great Hall. Morris was far too dizzy to notice that the floor of the Wizard Tower was flashing on and off with the words: MESSAGE RAT! MESSAGE RAT! MESSAGE RAT! He got to his feet and leaned against the wall, his head spinning.
In the distance Morris saw blurry figures in blue looming above. He heard a voice say, “Yuck—look at the blood.”
Another said, “Quick, pick it up and get the message. Before it’s too late.”
“You pick it up,” was the reply.
Someone grabbed his scruff between finger and thumb and Morris found himself being lifted dizzyingly high into an achingly bright light. A face not bothering to conceal an expression of disgust loomed in at him and a booming voice filled his ears. “Speeke, Rattus Rattus.”
With a huge effort, Morris Spoke. “First, I have to ask, are you Septimus Heap, ExtraOrdinary Wizard?”
The person holding him turned around and Morris felt the world spin out of control. “Get the EOW!” his holder yelled. “Fast, before the rat pegs it.”
Morris was floating. Sparkling lights spun around his head, fuzzy noise filled his ears and then, after what seemed to him to be many hours later, something purple filled the space in front of him. A voice from far, far away said, “I am Septimus Heap: ExtraOrdinary Wizard. What is your message?”
Gathering all his remaining strength, Morris Spoke. Then, message delivered, Morris collapsed.
In a lonely window in the Rat Office, three young rats stared out into the night. The distant tinny chimes of the Drapers Yard Clock drifted through the still night air. Ting . . . Ting . . . Ting.
“Something awful has happened,” said Florence. “I just know it.”
FLORENCE
Tod was woken just before dawn by an upside-down rat banging outside on the porthole. She thought she was still dreaming, but Nicko’s voice told her otherwise.
“Morning, Tod! Welcome to the Castle communication system,” he said. “You’ve got a Message Rat. Come up on deck.”
Tod tumbled out of her bunk and scrambled up the ladder. A small brown rat was shivering and looking anxiously at the Night Ullr, who was sitting on guard in the prow.
“You have to say, ‘Speeke, Rattus Rattus,’” Nicko told Tod. “Then it will tell you the message.”
“It talks?” Tod was amazed.
“Message Rats do, yes. In fact, some Message Rats never stop talking,” Nicko said with a smile.
Tod was intrigued. “Speeke, Rattus Rattus,” she said.
The rat spoke in a thin, high voice. “First, I have to ask, are you Alice TodHunter Moon?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Ask it what the message is,” said Nicko.
“What is your message, please?” said Tod.
“Message begins: Alice, there is a Queen’s Crisis Council meeting at the Palace at six this morning. I know you want to go home, but because of your knowledge of the Garmin, the Queen wishes you to be there. Alice, please do go. Ask Nicko and Snorri to take you. And, oh, Alice, I would be so happy if you would reconsider your decision to leave. Your homesickness will pass and there is so much for you here. You have great Magykal potential. And I will miss you very much. Love, Dandra. Message ends.”
Tod was more than a little relieved at the message. After her bad attack of homesickness the previous day in the Wizard Tower, she had been surprised when Nicko and Snorri had agreed to take her home so soon. She had then spent the evening on the Adventurer feeling sad about leaving Dandra Draa. Tod had hardly slept that night, she had felt so wretched. It seemed that wherever she lived now she would be missing people she loved. By the early hours of the morning, Tod had realized that she wanted to stay with Dandra—all she had needed to know was that she could go home if she wanted to. “Thank you very much,” she happily told the rat.
“You’re welcome,” the rat replied. It lingered uncertainly. “Excuse me,” it squeaked. “I hope you don’t mind. This is not part of the message and I know that I shouldn’t really use the Speeke for anything else but . . . oh dear.” The rat sat down and put its paws over its face.
Tod kneeled down beside it. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Something awful has happened to my brother. And my dad. They went to the Palace on a message last night and they never came back. Please, please, could you ask the Palace people if they know what happened?”
“Of course I will,” Tod promised.
“Oh, thank you,” said the rat. “Thank you so much. I’m Florence. If you find anything out, please get a message to the Rat Office. I . . . oh, I’d be so grateful.” With that, the rat jumped off the boat and Tod watched it scuttle away through the boatyard.
The sun rose over the Castle rooftops, and in the prow of the Adventurer, the Night Ullr Transformed into the Day Ullr. A few minutes later, Tod, Nicko, Snorri and a small orange cat walked down Wizard Way, heading quickly for the Palace. At the entrance to Measel’s Ope, Tod stopped. She recognized the dead-dog scent of Garmin.
“What is it, Tod?” Snorri asked.
“Garmin,” Tod said. “They’ve been here.”
“Here?” Nicko looked shocked.
As they walked toward the Palace, bathed pink in the light of the rising sun, everything seemed so quiet and peaceful. But Tod remembered the burning remains of her village, the wreck of her house stinking of Garmin, and she felt suddenly afraid. Suppose it was her wh
o had led the Garmin to the Castle?
PART X
TOGETHER AGAIN
Tod was the first to arrive for the Queen’s Council. Nicko and Snorri left her sitting in a quiet corner of the Palace ballroom, talking to Queen Jenna. The Queen asked her to tell her all she knew about the Ancient Ways and Garmin. Tod knew little about the Ways and there was not a lot she wanted to say about the Garmin. Jenna made notes as she talked, although Tod noticed that when she began to talk about what had happened to her village, Jenna’s pen stopped moving and she kept glancing up at the ballroom doors. Soon the Queen excused herself. She left Tod eating toasted sweet Palace buns while she joined the Chief Hermetic Scribe—an impressive sight in his dark-blue-and-gold robes—and waited for new arrivals.
The early-morning sun began to stream through the tall windows of the ballroom, sprinkling squares of color from tiny pieces of stained glass across the polished wooden floor, and through the ancient wavy panes Tod could see the dew-covered Palace lawns sweeping down to the misty river. Her fear of the Garmin evaporated in the beauty of the morning and Tod was thankful that she was not now on her way home. She looked at the opulent surroundings—the long white-clothed table piled high with anything one could possibly wish for breakfast; the delicate little red-and-gold chairs scattered around the room in groups; the deeply luxurious red velvet armchairs—and began to appreciate what a big and varied world it was outside the PathFinder village. A buzz of excitement came over her, which was swiftly followed by a wave of guilt—where were Oskar and Ferdie now? Certainly not anywhere as comfortable as this. She had deserted her friends just when they needed her most. What was it her father used to call people who behaved like that? A “fair-weather friend,” that was it. The sweet Palace bun turned sour in her mouth and Tod put down her plate. She felt sick.
Tod watched Marcia and Alther come in. They exchanged a few words with Jenna and wandered over to join her. To Tod’s relief they sat and chatted like the old friends they were, leaving her to her thoughts. Occasionally Tod sneaked a look at Alther just to see him floating a few inches above the arm of the chair. Once he caught her eye and winked.
The white-and-gold double doors to the ballroom opened once again and Tod saw the ExtraOrdinary Wizard walk in with the Snow Princess hanging on his arm. Behind them followed a neat little man with orange hair and thick spectacles. Tod watched the Queen greet them.
“We meet again,” Jenna said. She held out her hand to the Snow Princess, who took it with a limp, cool grasp.
“So we do,” Princess Driffa replied, her gaze flicking away from Jenna and traveling around the ballroom. “You have a pleasant little Palace here, Queen Jenna. Tiny, yet quite charming. In its own way.”
Falling back on her Queen training, Jenna managed a smile through gritted teeth. “How kind,” she replied. Then she greeted Septimus with a formal “Good morning, ExtraOrdinary Wizard.”
Septimus returned it in kind. “Good morning, Your Grace,” he replied. “Good morning, Chief Hermetic Scribe. May I introduce to you Mr. Benhira-Benhara Grula-Grula?”
Jenna raised her eyebrows at Septimus. “Oh?” she said.
“I will explain,” Septimus said apologetically.
Mr. Benhira-Benhara Grula-Grula held out his hand to Jenna, who took it gracefully and then found that the Grula-Grula was unwilling to let go. At last, after some interminable small talk, Jenna managed to excuse herself, leaving Beetle to carry on the conversation. It took her five long minutes in the washroom to scrub away the stickiness.
Jenna returned to her business of talking to people and making notes. Every now and then she cast an irritated glance at the huge gold-and-blue clock at the end of the ballroom—affectionately known as the Pumpkin Clock for as long as anyone could remember. Now, due to Jenna’s repairing and refurbishment of the Palace, the clock no longer always pointed to twelve but told the correct time: twenty-seven minutes past six. Jenna began to pace impatiently.
“Who do you think Jenna’s waiting for?” Alther whispered to Marcia.
“Don’t ask me, Alther,” muttered Marcia. “No one tells me anything now. Mind you, that’s no different. Aha, this must be whoever-it-is now.”
The big white-and-gold doors opened.
“Gosh,” said Marcia. “I wonder what Lucy Heap has to do with all this? And Simon, too. And who are those children—Tod, whatever is the matter?”
Tod had leaped up with a yell. And then, before Marcia could stop her—for it was not the thing to interrupt the Queen when she was welcoming visitors—Tod had broken into a run and was shouting out, “Oskie! Ferdie! Oh, it’s you. It’s you!” And a moment later a huddle of young PathFinders were hugging one another and jumping up and down as if they were on springs.
QUEEN’S COUNCIL
The Queen’s Council Room was a small, dark paneled chamber upstairs near the Throne Room. It contained an old round table with twelve ancient oak stools—uncomfortable enough to encourage quick decisions. All the places were taken, and as Queen Jenna took the last seat, she surveyed the strange mixture of humans, ghost and ShapeShifter gathered that morning. Sitting on her right was the ExtraOrdinary Wizard and next to him was the annoying Snow Princess, who was inspecting her long blue nails and already looking bored. Next to her was the sticky Mr. Grula-Grula, then Simon and Lucy, both hollow-eyed and pale. Then came the two PathFinder kids who had turned up with Simon and Lucy, then Tod, Marcia, Alther and back to Beetle, seated on her left.
Jenna was nervous. She had been Queen for seven years and had never had anything particularly important to do. But now the Castle was in peril and this was a huge test. She dared not fail. Jenna coughed a little anxiously and began to speak. “Welcome to you all. Last night my brother Simon came to tell me some shocking things. The Castle is under a grave threat and one of our Castle people, William Heap, is in imminent danger. From my conversations both last night and this morning, I understand that our troubles stem from a sorcerer named Oraton-Marr.” Jenna glanced over at Marcia. “That is his name?”
“It is,” Marcia confirmed.
“Many months ago,” Jenna continued, “this Oraton-Marr arrived in Princess Driffa’s homeland—the Eastern SnowPlains—and began to desecrate a sacred site by digging for, the Princess believes, an . . . er . . . egg.”
Some amused glances were exchanged around the table.
“A mythical sacred egg from a mythical worm that makes lapis lazuli.”
“The Egg of the Orm is not mythical,” Driffa said indignantly. “It is real.”
“Princess Driffa,” Jenna said icily, “please keep your comments until after I have finished.” Princess Driffa raised her delicate white eyebrows in exasperation and Jenna continued. “Mythical or not, Oraton-Marr has been abducting people—sometimes whole villages—to use as labor to dig for this egg. This would not affect us but for the fact that through the system of Ancient Ways, our Castle is linked to the very place where he is digging. I heard last night that William Heap, who we feared had drowned, has in fact been taken by those serving Oraton-Marr. And I also heard that two nights ago Garmin abducted our guest here, Alice TodHunter Moon, from the Wizard Tower courtyard.”
“No!” gasped Ferdie. All eyes turned to Tod, and she stared stonily down at the table. She didn’t want to think about that night ever again.
“Luckily, they were intercepted,” Jenna said. She looked at Septimus disapprovingly. “Although, ExtraOrdinary Wizard, no one thought to tell me.”
Septimus looked nettled. “It was Wizard Tower business, Jenna. I mean, Queen Jenna. What happens in the Wizard Tower stays in the Wizard Tower.”
“Not when it affects the well-being of the Castle,” Jenna said severely. She turned to Lucy. “Unfortunately the ExtraOrdinary Wizard is not the only person here who has been keeping secret matters of threat to the Castle. Is he, Lucy Heap?”
“I had no choice,” Lucy said, her voice trembling.
“We all have a choice,” said Jenna. “You coul
d have come to me and told me what was happening but you chose not to. Instead you deceived us all—including your husband—and went running off to help this servant of Oraton-Marr.”
Everyone looked at Lucy in shock.
“No!” Lucy was aghast. “No, it wasn’t like that. Please, it wasn’t.”
“That’s enough, Jenna,” said Simon, angrily getting to his feet.
“Sit down, Simon,” Jenna said. “I will not be interrupted. Our ex–ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Madam Marcia Overstrand, has access to the recently discovered Ancient Ways. She has kept me informed about these at every stage.” Jenna smiled at her new stepmother—Marcia had been unexpectedly considerate in the past year.
“Now, Lucy tells me that she has been given a choice by this servant of Oraton-Marr. She must provide twenty people from the Castle to dig for this egg or her son will die.”
Lucy began to sob.
“I’m sorry to be so blunt,” Jenna said. “But I have to make things clear. How long do we have until this threat is carried out?”
“Seventeen hours,” Lucy replied bleakly.
“So.” Jenna stopped and looked around the table, aware that all eyes were upon her. “I believe our only chance of saving William and indeed keeping the Castle safe from future invasions of Garmin, and whatever other creatures this Oraton-Marr has at his disposal, is to beard the lion in his den. We must go into the Ancient Ways and, with the help of our talented team of Wizards, we must, er . . . remove him. I see no other option. We must act at once. Today. If we do not, William Heap will die.”
Simon clutched Lucy’s hand so tightly that his knuckles were white.
“If we do not do this,” Jenna said somberly, “we, too, will become slaves to this evil Wizard. We have no choice. Does anyone disagree?”
There was silence around the table. No one disagreed.