Fyre

by Angie Sage

  “Rubbish!” spluttered the ghost.

  “Julius, it is the truth. I know this because after you Sealed my Fyre Chamber, my Drummins found the Two-Faced Ring on the ground. They knew what it was and they threw it into the drainage system to get rid of it. But they could not tell me, because by then you had dragged me away, and had left my faithful Drummins—more loyal to me than you ever were—to die.”

  “Drummins?” asked Marcia.

  “False creations,” said Julius Pike. “Alchemical abominations.”

  “They are living, breathing, sentient beings, however they may have been created,” retorted Marcellus. “But leaving the Drummins to die was not enough for you. You had to make sure that Alchemie died too.”

  “For the good of the Castle, Marcellus,” Julius protested. “Which Alchemie had so very nearly destroyed.”

  “No, Julius. Which you had so very nearly destroyed, by your deceit. And it did not stop there, did it? You falsified records, you obliterated ancient knowledge and you instilled a deep suspicion of Alchemie into all Wizards, so much so that to this day all new Wizards swear to ‘abjure all things Alchemical,’ do they not? And yet in the past, Wizards and Alchemists did great things together. They worked as one. And in order to finally rid ourselves of this ring, we shall have to do so again. There is no other way.”

  Marcellus became aware that a large crowd of Ordinary Wizards had gathered and were listening in shocked silence. When they realized that he had finally finished all he had to say, a few began to clap in approval. The ripple spread and soon the Great Hall was ringing with the sound of applause.

  Rose and Septimus were spinning down through the floors on Emergency setting when they heard the sound of the ovation rising to meet them.

  “They know you’ve done it, Septimus,” said Rose. They jumped off the stairs to find it was not they who were the center of attention but Marcia and Marcellus, arm in arm.

  “Crumbs,” Rose whispered to Septimus. “It looks like they’re going to get married or something.”

  “No way!” said Septimus.

  Marcia caught sight of Septimus. She saw the horrified expression on his face and her heart sank. “It didn’t work, did it?”

  “Yes, it did. Perfectly. I’ve got the Committal here.”

  A huge smile spread across Marcia’s weary features and her green eyes sparkled for the first time in days. “Septimus, that is wonderful. I should have known it would be you who would finally DeCypher the top of the Pyramid. Congratulations! I think I can safely say that you have passed your DeCyphering module with distinction. And then some.”

  Septimus looked at Marcia and Marcellus, who were still arm in arm. “So, um . . . do I need to congratulate you?” he asked.

  “You can if you like,” said Marcia. “From today we have a new partnership!”

  “Oh.”

  “Septimus, I am surprised you are not more excited. A partnership between Alchemie and Magyk is what you have wanted for a long time. No more secrets.”

  “So you’re going to move in together?”

  Marcia looked at Septimus uncomprehendingly for some seconds. Then a flash of understanding, swiftly followed by dismay, crossed her face and she dropped Marcellus’s arm like a hot potato. “Goodness, no! Oh, horrors. Perish the thought. This is a business relationship.”

  Erk Erk Erk . . . Erk Erk Erk . . . !

  The Stranger Chamber Alarm chose that moment to save Marcia from any more embarrassment. With almost a feeling of relief, Marcia raced over and threw open the blue door. Inside she met a very agitated ghost.

  “He pulled the lever!” yelled Alther. “Stupid, stupid boy!”

  Marcia stared at the gaping hole in the floor where the Stranger Chair should have been. A damp and not very pleasant smell drifted up from it.

  “Which setting?” she asked anxiously.

  “Moat. It’s on Moat.”

  Marcia felt relieved. At least it was possible to get people out of the Moat. “Idiot!” she said.

  “I know. Marcia, I am so sorry. I took my eye off him for one second. That was all, I promise you—”

  “Oh, Alther, I didn’t mean you were the idiot. I meant Merrin. You’ve been wonderful. Don’t worry, we’ll get some Wizards down to the Moat right away. Merrin must come straight back here. I do not want those Ring Wizards being drawn out into the Castle.”

  As Marcia hurried off, something occurred to her. “Alther, who was sitting on the Chair?”

  “Oh, Nursie, of course.”

  “So how come Merrin’s gone too?”

  “He jumped in after her. He actually seemed very upset; I don’t think he meant to do it.” Alther shook his head. “He’s a funny lad. You can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

  Marcia nodded. “You know, Alther, I think this is the first time that Merrin has cared about anyone but himself. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.”

  “Maybe. I’ll take some Wizards down to the Moat, pronto.”

  “Thank you, Alther.”

  “Oh, anytime. Well, no, not anytime. Actually, to be frank, never again.”

  Marcia smiled ruefully. “Indeed, Alther. Never again.”

  47

  FYRE

  The little pyramid Keye was on the map table, sitting on the footprint of the Wizard Tower—which it fitted perfectly. Watched by Milo, Marcia, Septimus and Marcellus, Jenna was sitting at Marcia’s command table writing the complete Committal into The Queen Rules in her most careful handwriting.

  “Septimus, would you fetch Julius, please,” said Marcia. “I would like him to check this before we go.”

  Septimus found Julius with some difficulty—the ghost had become very nearly transparent. But as requested, and with great care, Julius checked through the Committal. “Yes . . . yes, I believe it to be correct. Hathor, see there, is the Keystone,” he said, his long finger pointing to a bird symbol in a square.

  “Thank you, Julius,” said Marcia. “We do value your knowledge.”

  “You are very welcome,” the ghost replied somewhat stiffly.

  “Julius,” Marcia continued.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you not have something to say to Marcellus?”

  “Oh!” Julius made an odd, ghostly coughing sound. “Marcellus. I am. Um. Sorry. I . . . I apologize.”

  “It is those who lost their lives in the disaster to whom you should apologize,” said Marcellus.

  “Yes. I . . . I realize that.”

  “Not to mention all succeeding ExtraOrdinary Wizards who were denied essential knowledge of the Castle. And access to the skills of Alchemie for nearly five hundred years.”

  “Yes . . . well.”

  “And to my Drummins, whom you knowingly left to die.”

  “Apologize to Drummins?” Julius was aghast.

  “I leave it you to consider your actions, Julius. I can say no more.” With that Marcellus turned on his heel and walked away.

  Jenna watched Marcellus go with a good deal of sympathy. She closed The Queen Rules and got to her feet. “Okay,” she said. “I’m ready to do the Committal.”

  “Not on your own,” said Milo. “I am coming with you.”

  “Jenna will not be going alone,” said Marcia. “You can be sure of that, Milo.” She got to her feet. “Excuse me a moment.”

  Marcia quickly returned with Marcellus. “Our Castle Alchemist has a suggestion,” she said.

  Marcellus smiled happily. He knew what it meant for Marcia to freely use his old title. “It is extremely dangerous approaching from the Fyre hatch,” he said, “as Simon here will attest.” Simon nodded. “I suggest we go to the Fyre Chamber through the Covert Way.”

  “Covert Way? Another secret, Marcellus?” Marcia asked with a wry smile.

  This was still a sensitive subject for Marcellus. “It is not my secret, Marcia,” he retorted.

  “It is mine, ExtraOrdinary,” admitted Julius. “The Covert Way is the direct connection between here and the Fyre Chamb
er and emerges on the Chamber floor, behind the Cauldron. I Concealed it after the Great Alchemie Disaster. It lies beneath the spiral stairs. I will show you.”

  In the cramped and dusty inspection space beneath the spiral stairs, Milo, Marcia, Septimus, Jenna, Beetle, Marcellus and the ghost of Julius Pike were gathered, looking at a roughly plastered, blank wall.

  “There is an ExtraOrdinary Conceal here.”

  “Not noted in the Concealed Register,” said Marcia tartly.

  “No,” admitted Julius.

  ExtraOrdinary Conceals were undetectable and used only by ExtraOrdinary Wizards within the confines of the Wizard Tower. A condition of their use was that they should be entered in the Concealed Register so that every ExtraOrdinary Wizard would know what was Concealed where in the Wizard Tower.

  “So what have you been Concealing here, Mr. Pike?” asked Marcia.

  “A moving chamber that will take us to the Chamber of Fyre.”

  “Really? Well, I suggest you Reveal it right away.” Septimus could tell that Marcia was furious.

  Julius obeyed and a smooth and shiny black door in the wall was Revealed: Marcia gave Septimus and Marcellus a quizzical look. “That looks familiar.”

  “Yes, I know,” Septimus said guiltily.

  “Was that what you were doing on that terrible day—traveling to the Fyre Chamber?” Marcia asked.

  Septimus felt really bad. “Yes, it was.”

  “Goodness!” said Marcia, shaking her head.

  “I so wanted to tell you,” said Septimus. “But I had promised not to.”

  “A promise very reluctantly given,” said Marcellus. “But it was necessary, Marcia. I needed his help. You do understand?”

  “I do understand,” she said. “And it will never be necessary again.” She turned to Julius. “Is this safe?” she asked.

  “Yes. When I Concealed it I left it Charging,” said Julius. “I always believed that maintenance of the moving chamber was important. Unlike the Alchemists who left theirs to look after itself.”

  “Huh,” harrumphed Marcellus.

  Up until then Septimus had found little to agree upon with Julius Pike, but he had to admit that the ghost had a point about maintenance.

  “Very well, Julius,” said Marcia. “Take us through the Covert Way.”

  Julius Pike placed the palm of his ghostly hand onto a worn patch to the right-hand side of the door—then snatched it away. “I forget that I am a ghost,” he said despairingly. “It must have a Living hand.”

  Septimus considered that he had some experience in the matter. “I’ll do it,” he offered.

  The ghost shook his head. “It will not recognize you,” he said. “This Covert Way would open only for the Identity palm prints of the then-ExtraOrdinary Wizard—who was myself—my Senior Apprentice and the Castle Alchemist.”

  “Well then, Marcellus can do it,” said Marcia.

  “It will not recognize me,” said Marcellus. “Julius removed my Identity from everything.”

  “I could smash it open,” Milo offered eagerly.

  “It doesn’t work like that,” said Marcellus snappily.

  “Then I shall just have to climb through the hatch like everyone else,” said Jenna. “It will be all right.”

  “No,” said Marcellus. “It will not be all right.”

  “Syrah!” said Septimus suddenly. “Julius, she was your Senior Apprentice! Will it recognize her palm?”

  Julius heaved a hollow ghostly sigh that gave everyone goose bumps. “If she were alive, indeed it would,” he said mournfully. “After Syrah vanished on the Queste, I did not have the heart to remove her Identity. However, Apprentice, she is not alive. I do not know why you say such foolish things.”

  “I thought you were going to tell him,” Septimus said to Marcia.

  Marcia looked tetchy. “It’s been just a little bit busy here, Septimus. I’ve had more important things to think about.”

  “Yes, of course. Sorry. So, shall I take Mr. Pike up to the Sick Bay?” asked Septimus.

  “Yes,” said Marcia. “Don’t be long, will you?”

  Ten minutes later, a wobbly, emotional Syrah Syara, supported by Rose—who had been nominated as nurse by Dandra Draa—and an equally wobbly Julius Pike joined the party beneath the Wizard Tower spiral stairs. Still trembling from the shock of having just met the ghost of her much-loved Julius, Syrah placed her thin, translucently pale hand onto the smooth black material of the entrance to the Covert Way.

  Septimus watched, trying not to remember his last experience in the identical moving chamber on Alchemie Quay. But unlike him, Syrah did not have to push all her weight against the concealed opening plate. The lightest touch of her palm caused a bright green light to shine beneath. Then the oval door slid noiselessly open and the blue light inside the chamber came on.

  Jenna, Marcellus, Milo and Marcia looked at one another in surprise—they had never seen anything like it.

  “What is this?” asked Marcia, peering into the featureless chamber. “I can’t feel any Magyk here.”

  “It depends what you call Magyk,” said Marcellus obscurely.

  With some trepidation, Septimus followed Marcellus, Marcia, Milo, Jenna, Beetle, Syrah—supported by Rose—and Julius into the chamber. It was a tight squash. Syrah now placed her hand on the inside wall and a bright red light glowed beneath it. The door closed silently. No one said a word. The blue light gave everyone an unearthly pallor and made the whites of their eyes oddly prominent. Septimus noticed that Marcia was trying hard not to look scared—and not entirely succeeding. Milo, who was used to confined quarters in ships, was more robust. He grasped Marcia’s hand encouragingly, and to Septimus’s surprise Marcia did not object.

  A small orange arrow now appeared beside the door. It pointed, Septimus was interested to see, not vertically downward, but diagonally. Syrah swiped her hand across the arrow and everyone—even Septimus and Marcellus, who were expecting it—gasped. They felt the stomach-churning sensation of the chamber falling, but with the added strangeness of it taking a diagonal path. Jenna, who was stuck in the middle, began to feel queasy.

  The journey took less than a minute, but by the time the chamber finally shuddered to a halt, Jenna felt sick. She suspected it was not because of the ride but the thought of what awaited her outside. Everyone exchanged nervous glances in the blue light. Milo put his arm around Jenna. “We’ll be with you every step of the way,” he said.

  Jenna nodded. Then, putting on her best Princess voice, she said, “Syrah. Would you open the door, please?”

  The door opened and heat and a tremendous roar, as if from a huge waterfall, hit them. One by one, they stepped out into the shadows, shocked by the fierce red glow and the great curved wall of the black Cauldron that rose in front of them.

  The exit from the moving chamber was a few steps up from the earthen floor of the cavern, behind one of the thick, riveted legs that supported the Cauldron. There was no view of the Fyre Chamber at all from the exit and in the old times this had annoyed Marcellus, particularly when he had visitors from the Wizard Tower whom he wanted to impress. But now he was thankful for the cover. Marcellus checked all was safe, then beckoned to everyone to follow. Jenna went to step down and then stopped.

  “Oh!” she gasped. The floor was alive.

  A sea of small, squashy, dusty faces were gazing up at her, their dark eyes shining. Jenna looked down at their unblinking gaze and for a moment she knew what it was like to be a Queen in front of a vast crowd.

  “What are they?” Jenna whispered to Marcellus.

  “Drummins,” said Marcellus. “Do not worry; they will make a path for you. Drummins do not like to be trodden on. Ah, here is Duglius.”

  Duglius scrambled up the wall like a lizard and offered Jenna his hand—warm, callused and gritty with dust. Jenna took it and his suckered fingertips stuck delicately to her hand. “Welcome, Princess, to the Chamber of Fyre.”

  “Thank you,” said Jenna. She
felt the little suckers unstick themselves and very carefully she stepped down into the shadows.

  Marcia turned to Syrah, who was leaning against the wall of the chamber, deathly pale against the shiny black surface. “Syrah, you must remain here,” she said.

  Syrah swayed dizzily and Rose helped her down to the floor. “You’ll be okay,” Rose said. “I’ll stay with you.”

  “So shall I,” said Julius, glad of an excuse not to venture into the Chamber of Fyre.

  “Thank you, Rose,” said Marcia. She looked out into the unknown that lay in front of her. “Rose. If anything, er . . . happens, you must close the door immediately and take the chamber back to the Wizard Tower. Get a Senior Wizard to put an anti-Darke on it at once. You understand?”

  Rose nodded somberly. “Yes,” she said. “I understand.”

  Marcia took a deep breath and stepped out into the Chamber of Fyre.

  “Welcome, ExtraOrdinary Wizard with snakes upon her feet,” said Duglius. “Welcome to the Chamber of Fyre.”

  Marcia smiled graciously and with the words “Thank you, Duglius Drummin. It is an honor to be here,” she wiped away the lingering mistrust between Drummin and Wizard.

  When Marcellus, Milo, Septimus, and Beetle had left the moving chamber, Duglius jumped down from the wall. “Follow me,” he said. “We will make a path for you.”

  And they did. The Drummin crowd parted like water as, in single file, they followed Duglius beneath the round belly of the Cauldron. Beetle was last. He looked back and saw the path closing behind him and a multitude of little dark eyes staring up at him. He quickly turned around and followed Septimus through the crowd.

  Jenna and Marcia were the first to emerge from beneath the Cauldron. They stopped, amazed at the sudden, searing brilliance of the light and the soaring height of the Chamber of Fyre—the glitter of the webs of silver shining in the roof far, far above and the massive black roundness of the Cauldron bellying out above them. They waited while everyone gathered together, silent and subdued. What struck every single person was the sense of the presence of evil.