Septimus Heap, Book One_ Magyk - Angie Sage [108]
“It certainly didn’t with Silas,” muttered Aunt Zelda.
“When Dad married Mum they had six sons. They had Simon, Sam, Edd and Erik, Jo-Jo and Nicko. And then they had Septimus. So he was the seventh son of a seventh son. But he died. Just after he was born,” said Jenna. She was remembering what Sarah had told her one summer night when she was tucked in her box bed. “I always thought he was my twin brother. But it turns out he wasn’t…”
“Oh,” said Boy 412, thinking how complicated it seemed to be to have a family.
“So he’s definitely not our brother,” Nicko was saying. “And even if he was, I wouldn’t want him. He’s no brother of mine.”
“Well,” said Aunt Zelda, “there’s only one way to sort this out. We can see if he’s telling the truth, which I very much doubt. Although I did always wonder about Septimus…It never seemed quite right somehow.” She opened the door and checked the moon.
“A gibbous moon,” she said. “Nearly full. Not a bad time to scry.”
“What?” asked Jenna, Nicko and Boy 412 in unison.
“I’ll show you,” she said. “Come with me.”
The duck pond was the last place they all expected to end up, but there they were, looking at the reflection of the moon in the still, black water, just as Aunt Zelda had told them to.
The Apprentice was wedged firmly between Nicko and Boy 412, in case he should try to make a run for it. Boy 412 was pleased that Nicko trusted him at last. Not so long ago, it was Nicko who was trying to stop him from making a run for it. And now here he was, watching exactly the kind of Magyk he had been warned about in the Young Army: a full moon and a White Witch, her piercing blue eyes blazing in the moonlight, waving her arms in the air and talking about dead babies. What Boy 412 found difficult to believe was not that this was happening, but the fact that to him it now seemed quite normal. Not only that, but he realized that the people he was standing around the duck pond with—Jenna, Nicko and Aunt Zelda—meant more to him than anyone ever had in his whole life. Apart from Boy 409, of course.
Except, thought Boy 412, he could do without the Apprentice. The Apprentice reminded him of most of the people who had tormented him in his previous life. His previous life. That, decided Boy 412, was how it was going to be. Whatever happened, he was never going back to the Young Army. Never.
Aunt Zelda spoke in a low voice. “Now I am going to ask the moon to show us Septimus Heap.”
Boy 412 shivered and stared at the still, dark water of the pond. In the middle lay a perfect reflection of the moon, so detailed that the seas and mountains of the moon were clearer than he had ever seen before.
Aunt Zelda looked up at the moon and said, “Sister Moon, Sister Moon, show us, if you will, the seventh son of Silas and Sarah. Show us where he is now. Show us Septimus Heap.”
Everyone held their breath and looked expectantly at the the surface of the pond. Jenna felt apprehensive. Septimus was dead. What would they see? A small bundle of bones? A tiny grave?
A silence fell. The reflection of the moon began to grow bigger until a huge white, almost perfect circle filled the duck pond. At first, vague shadows began to appear in the circle. Slowly they became more defined until they saw…their own reflections.
“See,” said the Apprentice. “You asked to see me, and there I am. I told you.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” said Nicko indignantly. “It’s just our reflections.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” said Aunt Zelda thoughtfully.
“Can we see what happened to Septimus when he was born?” asked Jenna. “Then we’d know if he was still alive, wouldn’t we?”
“Yes, we would. I’ll ask. But it’s much more difficult to see things from the past.” Aunt Zelda took a deep breath and said, “Sister Moon, Sister Moon, show us, if you will, the first day of the life of Septimus Heap.”
The Apprentice snuffled and coughed.
“Quiet, please,” said Aunt Zelda.
Slowly their reflections disappeared from the surface of the water and were replaced by an exquisitely detailed scene, sharp and brilliant