Septimus Heap, Book One_ Magyk - Angie Sage [157]
Jenna and Septimus moved out of the sun’s glare and into the cooler shadows of the squat buildings that were set back and lined the Way. The buildings were among the oldest of the Castle and were built of a pale weatherworn stone, pitted and marked by thousands of years of rain, hail, frost and the occasional battle. They were home to the numerous manuscript makers and printing houses that produced all the books, pamphlets, tracts and treatises that were used by the Castle inhabitants.
Beetle, who was General Dogsbody and Inspection Clerk at Number Thirteen, was lounging outside sunning himself and he gave Septimus a friendly nod. Number Thirteen stood out from all the other shops. Not only was it the only one to have all its windows stacked so high with papers that it was impossible to see inside, but it had also recently been painted purple, much to the distaste of the Wizard Way Conservation Society. Number Thirteen housed the Magykal Manuscript orium and Spell Checkers Incorporated, which Marcia and most of the Wizards used regularly.
As they neared the end of Wizard Way, Jenna and Septimus heard the clatter of horse’s hooves echoing on the empty road behind them. They turned around to see in the distance a dark, dusty figure on a huge black horse gallop up to the Manuscriptorium. The figure dismounted in a hurry, quickly tied his horse up and disappeared inside, closely followed by Beetle, who looked surprised to have a customer so early in the morning.
“I wonder who that is,” said Septimus. “I haven’t seen him around here before, have you?”
“I’m not sure,” said Jenna, thinking. “He looks sort of familiar, but I don’t know why.”
Septimus did not reply. His spider bite had suddenly sent a stabbing pain up his arm, and he shivered as he remembered the Shadow he had seen that morning.
EXCERPT FROM
SEPTIMUS HEAP
BOOK THREE
Physik
PROLOGUE:
THE PORTRAIT IN THE ATTIC
Silas Heap and Gringe, the North Gate Gatekeeper, are in a dark and dusty corner of the Palace attic. In front of them is a small door to a Sealed room, which Silas Heap, Ordinary Wizard, is about to UnSeal. “You see, Gringe,” he says, “it’s the perfect place. My Counters will never be able to escape from there. I can just Seal them in.”
Gringe is not so sure. Even he knows that Sealed rooms in attics are best left alone. “I don’t like it, Silas,” he says. “It feels peculiar. Anyway, just because you’ve been lucky enough to find a new Colony under the floorboards up ’ere doesn’t mean they’ll stay here.”
“They jolly well will stay if they’re Sealed in, Gringe,” says Silas, clutching his box of precious newfound Counters, which he has just caught. “You’re just being funny because you won’t be able to entice this bunch away.”
“I did not entice the last bunch either, Silas Heap. They came of their own accord. Weren’t nothing I could do about it.”
Silas ignores Gringe. He is trying to remember how to do an UnSeal Spell.
Gringe taps his foot impatiently. “’Urry up, Silas. I got a gate to get back to. Lucy is most odd at the moment and I don’t want to leave ’er there alone for long.”
Silas Heap closes his eyes so that he can think better. Under his breath, so that Gringe cannot quite hear what he is saying, Silas chants the Lock Incantation backward three times, finishing it off with the UnSeal. He opens his eyes. Nothing has happened.
“I’m going,” Gringe tells him. “Can’t ’ang around like a spare part all day. Some of us ’ave work to do.”
Suddenly with a loud bang, the door to the Sealed room slams open. Silas is triumphant. “See—I do know what I’m doing. I am a Wizard, Gringe. Oof! What was that?” An icy gust of stale air rushes past Silas and Gringe, dragging their breath right up from their lungs and causing them both to subside into fits of coughing.
“That was cold.” Gringe shivers,