Septimus Heap, Book One_ Magyk - Angie Sage [139]
“Not necessarily” was Marcia’s grim reply. “And I haven’t finished yet. Stand back, please, everyone.”
“But,” whispered Jenna, “he’s our brother.”
“I think not,” said Marcia crisply.
Aunt Zelda put her hand on Marcia’s arm. “Marcia. I know you’re angry. You have every right to be after your time as a prisoner, but you mustn’t take it out on a child.”
“I’m not taking it out on a child, Zelda. You should know me better than that. This is no child. This is DomDaniel.”
“What?”
“Anyway, Zelda, I am no Necromancer,” Marcia told her. “I will never take a life. All I can do is to return him to where he was when he did this dreadful thing—to make sure that he does not profit from what he has done.”
“No!” yelled the Apprentice-shaped DomDaniel.
He cursed the thin, reedy voice in which he was forced to speak. It had annoyed him enough to hear it when it had belonged to the wretched boy, but now that it belonged to him it was unbearable.
DomDaniel struggled to his feet. He could not believe the failure of his plan to retrieve the Amulet. He had had them all fooled. They had taken him in out of their misguided pity, and they would have looked after him too, until he found the right time to take back the Amulet. And then—ah, how different things would have been then. Desperately he gave it one last try. He threw himself to his knees.
“Please,” he begged. “You’ve got it wrong. It’s only me. I’m not—”
“Begone!” Marcia commanded him.
“No!” he screamed.
But Marcia continued:
Begone.
Back to where you were,
When you were
What you were!
And he was gone, back to the Vengeance, buried deep in the dark recesses of the mud and the Ooze.
Aunt Zelda looked upset. She still could not believe that the Apprentice really was DomDaniel. “That’s a terrible thing to do, Marcia,” she said. “Poor boy.”
“Poor boy, my foot,” snapped Marcia. “There’s something you should see.”
47
THE APPRENTICE
They set off at a brisk pace, Marcia striding ahead of them as best she could in her galoshes. Aunt Zelda had to break into a trot to keep up. She wore a look of dismay as she took in the destruction wrought by the floodwaters. There was mud, seaweed and slime everywhere. It hadn’t looked so bad in the moonlight the previous night, and besides, she had been so relieved to see everyone actually alive that a bit of mud and mess hardly seemed to matter. But in the revealing light of the morning it looked miserable. Suddenly she gave a cry of dismay.
“The chicken boat has gone! My chickens, my poor little chickens!”
“There are more important things in life than chickens,” Marcia declared, moving purposefully ahead.
“The rabbits!” wailed Aunt Zelda, suddenly realizing that the burrows must have all been swept away. “My poor bunnies, all gone.”
“Oh, do be quiet, Zelda!” Marcia snapped irritably.
Not for the first time, Aunt Zelda thought that Marcia’s return to the Wizard Tower could not come soon enough for her. Marcia led the way like a purple pied piper in full flight, marching across the mud, leading Jenna, Nicko, Boy 412 and a flustered Aunt Zelda to a spot beside the Mott just below the duck house.
As they neared their destination, Marcia stopped, wheeled around and said, “Now, I just want to tell you, this is not a pretty sight. In fact, maybe only Zelda should see this. I don’t want to go giving you all nightmares.”
“We’ve been having those already,” declared Jenna. “I don’t see what could be worse than my nightmares last night.”
Boy 412 and Nicko nodded in agreement. They had both slept very badly the previous night.
“Very well, then,” said Marcia. She stepped carefully across the mud behind the duck house and stopped by the Mott. “This is what I found this morning.”
“Eurgh!” Jenna hid her face in her hands.
“Oh, oh, oh,” gasped Aunt Zelda.
Boy 412 and Nicko were silent. They felt sick. Suddenly Nicko disappeared down to the Mott and was sick.
Lying on the muddy grass beside the Mott was what at first glance looked like an empty green sack.