Septimus Heap, Book One_ Magyk - Angie Sage [30]
“And good night to you too, Madam,” he said. “Thank you for your hospitality.” The Hunter swept out and slammed the cafe door behind him.
“Nail the door shut!” he shouted angrily. “And the windows. Don’t let her escape!”
The Hunter strode off down the gangway. “Get me a fast-pursuit bullet boat,” he ordered the Runner waiting at the end of the gangway. “At the quay. Now!”
The Hunter reached the riverbank and turned to survey Sally Mullin’s beleaguered cafe. As much as he wanted to see the first lick of the flames before he left, he did not stop. He needed to catch the Trail before it went cold. As he strode down to the quay to await the arrival of the bullet boat, the Hunter smiled a satisfied smile.
No one tried to make a fool of him and got away with it.
Behind the smiling Hunter trotted the Apprentice. He was somewhat sulky at having been left outside the cafe in the cold, but he was also very excited. He wrapped his thick cloak around him and hugged himself with anticipation. His dark eyes shone, and his pale cheeks were flushed with the chill night air. This was turning into the Big Adventure his Master had told him it would be. It was the start of his Master’s Return. And he was part of it because without him it could not happen. He was Advisor to the Hunter. He was the one who would Oversee the Hunt. The one whose Magykal powers would Save the Day. A brief tremor of doubt crossed the Apprentice’s mind at this thought, but he pushed it away. He felt so important it made him want to shout. Or jump about. Or hit someone. But he couldn’t. He had to do as his Master told him and follow the Hunter carefully and quietly. But he might just hit the Queenling when he got her—that would show her.
“Stop daydreaming and get in the boat, will you?” the Hunter snapped at him. “Get in the back, out of the way.”
The Apprentice did as he was told. He didn’t want to admit it, but the Hunter scared him. He stepped carefully into the stern of the boat and squeezed himself into the tiny space in front of the feet of the oarsmen.
The Hunter looked approvingly at the bullet boat. Long, narrow, sleek and as black as the night, it was coated with a polished lacquer that allowed it to slip through the water with the ease of a skater’s blade on ice. Powered by ten highly trained oarsmen, it could outrun anything on the water.
On the prow it carried a powerful searchlight and a sturdy tripod on which a pistol could be mounted. The Hunter stepped carefully into the prow and sat on the narrow plank behind the tripod, where he set about quickly and expertly mounting the Assassin’s silver pistol onto it. He then took a silver bullet from his pouch, looked at it closely to make sure it was the one he wanted and laid it down in a small tray beside the pistol in readiness. Finally the Hunter took five standard bullets from the boat’s bullet box and lined them up beside the silver bullet. He was ready.
“Go!” he said.
The bullet boat pulled smoothly and silently out from the quay, found the fast current in the middle of the river and disappeared into the night.
But not before the Hunter had glanced behind him and seen the sight he had been waiting for.
A sheet of flame was snaking up into the night.
Sally Mullin’s cafe was ablaze.
12
MURIEL
A few miles downriver the sailboat Muriel was running with the wind, and Nicko was in his element. He stood at the helm of the small crowded boat and guided her skillfully along the channel that wound down the middle of the river, where the water flowed swift and deep. The spring tide was ebbing fast and taking them with it, while the wind had risen enough to make the water choppy and send Muriel bouncing through the waves.
The full moon rode high in the sky and cast a bright silver light over the river, lighting their way. The river widened as it traveled ever onward toward the sea, and as the occupants of the boat gazed out they noticed that the low-lying riverbanks with their overhanging trees and occasional lonely cottage appeared increasingly distant. A silence descended as the passengers