Septimus Heap, Book One_ Magyk - Angie Sage [26]
“The Keeper in Marram Marshes?” Marcia asked rather feebly.
“Yes,” said Silas. “We’ll be safe there. She’s got her cottage permanently Enchanted now, after she was raided by the Quake Ooze Brownies last winter. No one will ever find it.”
“Very well,” said Marcia. “We’ll go to Aunt Zelda.”
Silas looked surprised. Marcia had actually agreed with him without an argument. But then, he smiled to himself, they were all in the same boat now.
And so the little green boat disappeared into the night, leaving Sally a distant figure on the shore, waving bravely. As she lost sight of Muriel, Sally stood on the quay and listened to the sound of the water lapping against the cold stones. Suddenly she felt quite alone. She turned and started to make her way back along the snowy riverbank, her path lit by the yellow light shining from her cafe windows a short distance away. A few customers’ faces gazed out into the night as Sally hurried back to the warmth and chatter of the cafe, but they appeared not to notice her small figure as she tramped through the snow and made her way up the gangway to the pontoon.
As Sally pushed open the cafe door and slipped into the warm hubbub, her more regular customers noticed that she was not her usual self. And they were right; unusually for Sally, she had only one thought on her mind.
How long would it be before the Hunter arrived?
10
THE HUNTER
It took precisely eight minutes and twenty seconds for the Hunter and his Pack to arrive at the Riverside Amenity Rubbish Dump after Sally had waved Muriel off at the quay. Sally had lived through each one of those five hundred seconds with a mounting dread in the pit of her stomach.
What had she done?
Sally had said nothing when she returned to the cafe, but something about her demeanor had caused most of her customers to quickly drink up their Springo, gulp down the last crumbs of barley cake and melt speedily into the night. The only customers Sally had left were the five Northern Traders, who were on their second measures of Springo Special and were talking softly among themselves in their mournful singsong accents. Even the Washing-up Boy had disappeared.
Sally’s mouth was dry, her hands were shaking and she fought against her overwhelming desire to run away. Calm down, girl, she told herself. Tough it out. Deny everything. The Hunter has no reason to suspect you. If you run now, he’ll know you’re involved. And the Hunter will find you. He always does. Just sit tight and keep cool.
The second hand of the big cafe clock ticked on.
Click…Click…Click…
Four hundred and ninety-eight seconds…Four hundred and ninety-nine seconds…Five hundred.
A powerful searchlight beam swept across the top of the rubbish dump.
Sally ran to a nearby window and stared out, her heart pounding. She could see a swarm of black figures milling around, silhouetted in the beam of the searchlight. The Hunter had brought his Pack, just as Marcia had warned.
Sally stared intently, trying to make out what they were doing. The Pack was gathered around the rat door, which Marcia had jammed shut with the Lockfast and Weld Spell. To Sally’s relief the Pack seemed to be in no hurry; in fact, it looked as though they were laughing among themselves. Some faint shouts drifted down to the cafe. Sally strained her ears. What she heard made her shiver.
“…Wizard scum…”
“…Rats trapped by a rat door…”
“…Don’t go away, ha ha. We’re coming to get you…”
As Sally watched she could see the figures around the rat door becoming increasingly frantic as the door held fast against all their efforts to pull it free. Standing apart from the Pack was a lone figure watching impatiently whom Sally rightly took to be the Hunter.
Suddenly the Hunter lost patience with the efforts to free the rat door. He strode over, grabbed an axe from one of the Pack and angrily attacked the door. Loud metallic clangs echoed down to the cafe until eventually the mangled rat door was tossed to the side, and one of the Pack was sent into the chute to dig out