by Angie Sage
No one wanted to distract Hotep-Ra. Jenna, Nicko, Septimus and Aunt Zelda had no choice but to stare silently into the mist, notice how cold it got as they went ever deeper and listen to the screams of whatever-it-was that haunted the abyss. They hoped that Hotep-Ra had a good reason for what he was doing.
At last the Dragon Boat landed with a swooooosh and a plume of ice-cold water sprayed into the boat. She settled into the pool of dank water that lay on the floor of the abyss, folded her wings and fastidiously arched her tail out of the water. The emerald green of the dragon’s eyes shone through the dusky gloom as she turned her head and looked at Hotep-Ra as if to ask what he thought he was doing coming to such a forsaken place.
Hotep-Ra enlightened neither his dragon nor his crew. He took a pinch of Sprite Sand from his pocket and held it in his fist. Then, as though sowing seed, he threw his arm out and a cluster of tiny lights flew up from his hand. The Sprites swirled into the air and gathered around Hotep-Ra like a swarm of bees, bathing him in a bright light. Septimus was entranced. He had read about ancient Lighting Sprites, whose Magyk had been lost long ago. He had thought what a lovely idea they were—little personal spheres of light that followed you around, and he had heard that some Guiding Sprites even showed you the way.
Hotep-Ra bowed to Aunt Zelda. “Madam Keeper,” he said, waving away Aunt Zelda’s protests that she was no longer Keeper. “Excuse me for a few minutes while I assist these young travelers in their return to the Castle. I trust that you and I will then have a more pleasant journey in the Dragon Boat.”
Septimus, Nicko and Jenna frowned at one another. This didn’t sound good. Aunt Zelda looked concerned. “But how are they getting to the Castle?” she asked.
“I will explain when I return. I will not be long.”
Aunt Zelda gave Jenna, Septimus and Nicko a worried wave as they followed Hotep-Ra and his Sprites down the embarking ladder and away into the darkness. The light from the Sprites and the splash of their footsteps soon faded and Aunt Zelda was left alone in the gloom. She eased herself up from beside the tiller and felt her way along to the prow. The dragon lowered her head to greet her and Aunt Zelda sat, stroking the dragon’s velvety nose, whispering calming sounds—as much for her benefit as the Dragon Boat’s.
Out of sight of Aunt Zelda, the Guiding Sprites led the way, dancing through the mist. Hotep-Ra and his crew followed them, stumbling through puddles and over the uneven ground. The floor of the abyss was not a pleasant place to be. The mist swirled around, cold and clammy, and when Septimus turned to look back at the Dragon Boat he could no longer see her; a pall of gloom hung between them. They struggled on, following the Sprites, and soon the dark rock face reared up in front of them and Septimus saw that Hotep-Ra was heading for a small, rusty iron door set deep in the rock.
Suddenly Septimus felt a cold grip fasten around his neck and the livid face of the Toll Man whom he had once pushed into the abyss materialized in front of him, its eyes glittering with hate. A malevolent voice hissed in his ear. “See, now I have my revenge.”
“BeGone, fiend!” Hotep-Ra’s staff came down between the Toll Man and Septimus and the wraith disappeared.
“Thank you,” Septimus muttered with relief.
Hotep-Ra smiled. “I too have enemies in the abyss,” he said. “And in the abyss is where they stay. Aha, here we are!” He tapped his staff on the iron door, it swung open and the Sprites flew inside like an excited swarm of bees.
Septimus followed Jenna, Nicko and Hotep-Ra into an ice-cold chamber hollowed from the rock. The Sprites led them across to another door, which Hotep-Ra opened to reveal something that they had all seen before.
Cradled between two metal lattice platforms lay a purple-colored tube with rounded ends, about fifteen feet long. There were four hatches ranged in a line along the roof, the front one being the larger. Along the side of the tube was a line of tiny green glass windows and below it were runners that rested on two parallel metal rails, which sloped steeply down into the dark mouth of a tunnel.
“It’s the Red Tube!” gasped Septimus.
“Only purple,” said Jenna.
Hotep-Ra looked very surprised. “It is indeed a Tube. But I did not expect you to recognize it.”
“Once I helped to get one just like that back to CattRokk Light,” said Septimus, smiling at the memory. He had loved piloting the Tube under the sea, seeing the fish swimming by and the feeling of being in another world.
“So you understand how it works?”
“Sort of. I wasn’t in it for long.”
Hotep-Ra smiled. “Even so, this is good news. You will be off to the Castle in no time.”
“In that?”
“Of course.”
“But how? There is no water here.”
“But there is ice. Ice or water, it is all the same to a Tube.”
Nicko shivered. He’d refused a ride in the Tube before, and the thought of having to go into its coffinlike space now was terrifying.
Hotep-Ra pushed the end of his staff onto a rubbery black button in front of the oval hatch. With a faint whirr, the hatch flipped open, a dull purple light switched on inside the Tube and a smell of old leather and iron wafted out. Nicko felt sick.
Septimus peered down. Inside he saw the high-backed bench seat for the pilot, a simple set of dials and the thick green windshield that wrapped around the front of the Tube. It was even more cramped inside than he remembered. He knew Nicko would hate it.
“Okay, Nik?” he said.
Nicko did not answer.
Jenna decided it was time to be a bit Princessy. She turned to Hotep-Ra and said, “Hotep-Ra, Septimus and I will go in the Tube, but I would like Nicko to help with the Dragon Boat. It’s a long way to the Castle and some of your journey will be through the night.”
To Jenna’s surprise it wasn’t only Nicko who looked relieved. Hotep-Ra did too. Jenna guessed that the frail old Wizard had not been looking forward to the long flight on the Dragon Boat with only Aunt Zelda as crew.
Nicko flashed Jenna a thank-you smile and watched anxiously as she and Septimus dropped down through the front hatch into the red glow below. He saw the tops of their heads, fair hair and dark, as they both settled into the pilot seat. Hotep-Ra peered down.
“Do you remember the controls?” he asked.
“I think so,” Septimus replied.
Hotep-Ra ran through the controls and then described what he called the “launch protocol” ending with, “and the power pedal is at your right foot, the brake at your left. Steer with the little wheel, although you will hardly need to; it is a straight run from here to the Castle.”
Nicko looked amazed. He thought of the long journey that he and Snorri had once taken across the sea, marshland and frozen forest to get there, when all the time there was what Hotep-Ra called a straight run. Hotep-Ra saw Nicko’s bemused expression and smiled at him. “This is why, Nickolas Heap, I built my House of Foryx here. But like you I have a fear of enclosed spaces. I have only traveled that way once—and once was enough, believe me.” He turned back to the Purple Tube. “Ready?” he called down.
“Um. Yes. Ready.” Jenna and Septimus’s voices echoed hollowly up through the open hatch.
Nicko noticed that Hotep-Ra looked as nervous as the voices below sounded.
“When you release the Tube,” said Hotep-Ra, “you will drop steeply down the approach tunnel and enter the Ice Tunnel. You understand?”
Jenna and Septimus exchanged glances. “Yes,” they replied.
“Now, please put your seat belts on.”
Nervously, Jenna and Septimus fumbled with the stiff old leather belts and managed to clip the buckles tight.
“Good luck,” said Hotep-Ra. “Now you may begin the launch sequence.”
Along the curved metal dashboard were seven numbered brass dials. Jenna now turned the first one until it clicked into position. The top hatch closed above them with a hisssss and all went dark.
“This is sca
ry,” Jenna whispered. Septimus swallowed. His mouth felt dry. Jenna’s fingers found the second dial, she turned it to the click and a line of tiny red lights lit the dashboard. The third made the headrest move down to fit them; the fourth dial sent a whoosh of air, which smelled of the sea, rushing into the capsule. Now Septimus took over. He turned the fifth dial, which switched on a brilliant white headlight and lit the way in front of them. This was not particularly encouraging—it showed a pair of glistening silver rails plunging down a steep drop into the circular black mouth of a tunnel. The sixth loosened a tether. Before he turned the seventh dial, Septimus looked at Jenna, his face eerily purple in the light.
“Okay?” he asked.
Jenna nodded. “Okay.”
They both guessed what would happen when Septimus turned the last dial. They were right: as the dial clicked into place, the Tube tipped forward and the next moment they were hurtling down the rails toward the gaping black O.
Nicko watched the Purple Tube shoot into the circle of darkness—and then it was gone. It felt to him like it was gone forever.
44
SOMEWHERE
Far below the snowy Forest, the Purple Tube hurtled along the longest, straightest Ice Tunnel that Septimus had ever seen. Its runners glided smoothly over the ice and its headlight picked out the glittering frost that swept past them in a blur of white.
“This is fast!” Jenna gasped.
Septimus stared out of the thick glass of the windscreen, transfixed by the black circle of darkness that always stayed the same distance ahead. “Don’t you think it feels like we’re staying still and the tunnel is moving?” he said.
“Sep—don’t say that!” Jenna put her hands over her eyes. “That is too weird.” She peered through a gap between her fingers. “Now that’s what I see—the tunnel moving.”
“Sorry, Jen.”
They fell silent for a while, listening to the constant rumble of the runners of the Tube traveling over the ice. After a while Septimus said, “I wonder where we are now—I mean I wonder what’s above us right now?”
Jenna shivered. “I don’t want to even think about all the stuff above us, thanks very much.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“That’s all right. Just remind me not to travel in one of these with you again. Or at all, actually.” She smiled at him. “Horrible boy.”
Septimus stuck his tongue out at Jenna and carried on staring at the white blur outside the window. It was mesmerizing.
The Tube sped on and they lost track of time. It was about an hour after they had started when Jenna, sounding worried, said, “Sep. It’s gone kind of wobbly. Do you think something’s broken?”
Septimus had noticed too. The smooth run had changed to an unpleasant shake that came up from the runners and was giving a bone-jarring ride. The low background rumble had become so loud that Septimus had to raise his voice to be heard.
“Perhaps we had better slow down,” he said. “If something is wrong and we crash at this speed . . .”
“I’m going to put the brake on,” said Jenna, moving her left foot across to the broad plate that came up from the floor on her side.
“Yep. Good idea.”
Cautiously, Jenna pressed her foot down on the brake. The Tube slowed to a crawl, but the shaking became even more pronounced.
“Something’s wrong!” said Jenna, snatching her foot off the brake.
Suddenly, Septimus realized what it was. “It’s the jinn, Jen!”
“Oh, do stop saying silly rhymes, Sep. This is not nice. Oh!” The Tube gave a particularly big lurch and Jenna fell sideways.
Septimus caught her. “It’s okay, Jen. I know where we are. And I know what’s happened. It’s the ice. It’s really churned up—look, you can see it in the headlight. This must be where the warrior jinn marched to the Castle, which means that we must be under the Isles of Syren now.”
Jenna peered through the glass. “Hey—you’re right!”
“No need to sound so surprised,” said Septimus, grinning.
Jenna thought about what Septimus had said. “So we are under the sea now, right?”
“Yes. I suppose we are.”
Jenna shivered. “All that water above us, Sep. It’s so . . . scary.”
Septimus didn’t want to think about it. “I’ll speed up and get us out of here.”
“Not too fast, okay?”
Septimus pressed the pedal on his side of the floor; the Tube picked up speed and settled into a gentle bumping along the rutted ice.
After some minutes Jenna said, “Is there an Ice Tunnel hatch below the Palace, Sep?”
“I suppose there must be. I’ve never seen it though.”
Jenna sighed. “I wish Beetle were here. He’d know.” She turned to Septimus. “Everything feels kind of right when Beetle’s around, don’t you think?”
“Perhaps you ought to tell him that sometime,” said Septimus, giving Jenna what Sarah Heap would have called a meaningful look.
Jenna went pink. “Shut up, Sep,” she said.
“Okeydokey. Now I’ve been thinking. There’s a sign to the Wizard Tower in the Ice Tunnel below, so I bet there’s a sign to the Palace too.”
“So how near do you think we are?” Jenna asked.
“We can’t be too far,” said Septimus. “It didn’t take very long from the House of Foryx to the Isles of Syren, did it? And the Castle is much closer.”
“Perhaps we ought to slow down,” said Jenna anxiously. “We don’t want to miss the sign and get lost under the Castle.” The Tube hit a particularly deep rut and shook alarmingly. “Slowly, Sep!”
“Don’t panic, Jen.”
“I am not panicking. You are going way too fast.”
Irritated, Septimus slowed the Tube to an uncomfortable bump while Jenna stared out of the thick green glass screen, searching for a sign to the Palace.
After some minutes, Jenna said, “How big did Hotep-Ra say this pyramid was? I mean, is it like head-size or more kind of nose-size?”
“Nose-size,” said Septimus. “He said it would sit comfortably on your hand.”
“That’s really small,” said Jenna gloomily.
“And the Palace is really big,” Septimus said equally gloomily.
“The only thing I can hope for is that my mother, the Queen, will tell me where it is.”
Septimus looked at Jenna. “Do you think she will?”
“No,” said Jenna. “Sep, look out!”
Septimus snatched his foot off the power pedal. “Jen—brake, brake, brake!”
In the bright beam of light of the Tube, Jenna and Septimus saw the most bizarre sight. Poking up from the floor of the Ice Tunnel were the head and shoulders of a man. He was staring at the oncoming Tube in utter horror. Jenna slammed her foot on the brake and the Purple Tube skidded to a halt just in time. The head-and-shoulders stayed where it was and continued to stare, its mouth opening and closing like a goldfish thrown out of its bowl.
“Jeez. It’s Marcellus.” Septimus reached over to the hatch dial and clicked it up, the pilot hatch swung open and in seconds he was up and out into the chill of the Ice Tunnel, clambering down the ladder and running and sliding across the ice toward Marcellus, closely followed by Jenna.
Blinded by the headlight, Marcellus was convinced that he was about to be run down. He heard Septimus’s voice but thought he was imagining it. It was only when Septimus shook his shoulder that Marcellus realized he was not—just then, anyway—going to die.
Jenna slid to a halt beside them, shocked at what she saw. Marcellus was in a terrible state. He was covered in dirt and streaked with dried blood that ran down from a huge bump on his forehead. “Marcellus!” she gasped. “Your head! What has happened?”
It was too much for Marcellus to explain right then. “Stuck,” he replied.
“Okay. Let’s get you out,” said Septimus.
Jenna grasped one shoulder and Septimus the other. “One, two, three—pull!”
; “Ouch!” Marcellus yelled as he was wrenched from the tiny escape hatch and pulled out onto the ice—which felt, Septimus thought, unusually soft. As Marcellus lay groaning on the ice, Septimus briefly caught sight of a small, dusty face with squashy, broad features and a pair of large, round, black eyes staring at them from the ice. But before he could say anything, the little eyes were gone.
“Marcia . . .” Marcellus said feebly. “See Marcia. Got to tell her.”
Septimus was beyond being surprised by anything—if Marcellus suddenly wanted to tell all to Marcia, that was fine by him. “Okay. Now, Marcellus, can you stand?”
Marcellus nodded and then groaned once more. His head hurt badly. He allowed Jenna and Septimus to help him to his feet and walked unsteadily between them to the Purple Tube.
Unseen, Duglius popped his head out of the hatch once more to make sure his Master was safe. He saw Marcellus being helped to climb up the rungs on the side of the Tube and deposited with some difficulty through the hatch. He saw the Apprentice and the Princess clamber in after him and when the Tube hatch hissed closed, Duglius dropped back down the Drummin burrow escape hatch and pulled it shut too. Then he took a shiny mat—known as a slider—from a stack just below the hatch and sat down. With one push Duglius was away, hurtling down the escape burrow, GloGrubs jumping out of his way, dust kicking up into his face. It was something he had not done since he was a young Drummin, so very, very long ago, and once again Duglius felt the sheer joy of being alive. And as he headed down, Duglius was determined that he, his Drummins and his Fyre were going to stay that way.
Inside the Purple Tube, Marcellus was slumped on the bench seat behind the pilot’s. Jenna sat with him. “Marcellus,” she said, “we have to get to the Palace Ice Hatch. It’s really important. Can you tell us the way?”