Septimus Heap, Book One_ Magyk - Angie Sage [42]
“Suddenly DomDaniel came in and saw me reading the Incantation. And that I was still there—I had not been Taken. He knew that his plan was discovered and he ran. He scuttled up the Library stepladder like a spider, ran along the top of the shelves and squeezed through the trapdoor that led outside of the Pyramid. He laughed at me and taunted me to follow him if I dared. You see, he knew I was terrified of heights. But I had no choice but to follow him. So I did.”
Everyone was silent. No one, not even Marcia, had heard the full story of the Spectre before then.
Jenna broke the silence. “That’s horrible.” She shuddered. “So did the Spectre come back for you, Uncle Alther?”
“No, Princess. With some help I devised an Anti-Hex Formula. It was powerless after that.” Alther sat in thought for a while, and then he said, “I just want you all to know that I am not proud of what I did at the top of the Wizard Tower—even though I did not push DomDaniel off. You know, it is a terrible thing for an Apprentice to supplant his Master.”
“But you had to do it, Uncle Alther. Didn’t you?” said Jenna.
“Yes, I did,” said Alther quietly. “And we will have to do it again.”
“We shall do it tonight,” declared Marcia. “I shall go right back and throw that evil man out of the Tower. He’ll soon learn that he doesn’t mess with the ExtraOrdinaryWizard.” She got up purposefully and wrapped her purple cloak around her, ready to go.
Alther leapt into the air and put a ghostly hand on Marcia’s arm. “No. No, Marcia.”
“But, Alther—” Marcia protested.
“Marcia, there are no Wizards left to protect you at the Tower, and I hear you gave your KeepSafe to Sally Mullin. I beg you not to go back. It is too dangerous. You must get the Princess to safety. And keep her safe. I shall go back to the Castle and do what I can.”
Marcia sank back down onto the wet sand. She knew Alther was right. The last flames of the fire spluttered out as large wet flakes of snow began to fall and darkness closed in on them. Alther put his ghostly fishing rod down on the sand and floated above the Deppen Ditch. He gazed across the marshlands that stretched far into the distance. They were a peaceful sight in the moonlight, broad wetlands dusted with snow and dotted with little islands here and there as far as he could see.
“Canoes,” said Alther, floating back down. “When I was a boy that’s how the marsh folk got around. And that’s what you’re going to need too.”
“You can do that, Silas,” said Marcia dismally. “I’m far too tired to go messing about with boats.”
Silas got to his feet. “Come on then, Nicko,” he said. “We’ll go and Transmute Muriel into some canoes.”
Muriel was still floating patiently in Deppen Ditch, just around the bend, out of sight of the river. Nicko felt sad to see their faithful boat go but he knew the Rules of Magyk, and so he knew only too well that in a spell, matter can neither be created nor destroyed. Muriel would not really be gone but, Nicko hoped, rearranged into a set of smart canoes.
“Can I have a fast one, Dad?” asked Nicko as Silas stared at Muriel and tried to think of a suitable spell.
“I don’t know about ‘fast,’ Nicko. I shall just be happy if it floats. Now, let me think. I suppose one canoe each would be good. Here goes. Convert to Five! Oh, bother.”
Five very small Muriels bobbed up and down in front of them.
“Dad,” complained Nicko, “you’re not doing it right.”
“Wait a minute, Nicko. I’m thinking. That’s it—Canoe Renew!”
“Dad!”
One enormous canoe sat wedged into the banks of the Ditch.
“Now, let’s be logical about this,” Silas muttered to himself.
“Why don’t you just ask for five canoes, Dad?” suggested Nicko.
“Good idea, Nicko. We’ll make a Wizard of you yet. I Choose Canoes for Five to Use!”
The spell fizzled out before it really got going, and Silas ended up with just two canoes and a forlorn pile of Muriel-colored timbers and rope.
“Only two, Dad?” said Nicko, disappointed not to be getting his own canoe.
“They’ll have to do,” said Silas. “You can’t change matter more than three times without it getting fragile.