Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [10]
“There, that’s better.” Sir Hereward beamed. “Fourteen’s an exciting day for a Princess, you’ll see. Now, here’s a good one. This will really cheer you up. How do you put a giraffe in a wardrobe?”
“I don’t know, Sir Hereward. How do you put a giraffe in a wardrobe?”
“You open the wardrobe door, put it in and close the door. So how do you put an elephant in the wardrobe?”
“I don’t know. How do you put an elephant in a wardrobe?”
“You open the door, take out the giraffe and put the elephant in. Hur hur.”
Jenna laughed. “That is so silly, Sir Hereward.”
Sir Hereward giggled. “Isn’t it? I mean, I’m sure you could fit them both in if you really tried.”
“Yes . . . well, good night, Sir Hereward. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The ancient ghost bowed, and Jenna pushed opened the grand double doors and went into her bedroom. As the doors closed, Sir Hereward resumed his post on guard, extra vigilant. Every Palace ghost knew that birthdays could be a dangerous time for a Princess. Sir Hereward was determined that nothing was going to happen to Jenna on his watch.
* * *
Once inside her room, Jenna could not settle—she felt a strange mixture of excitement and melancholy. Restless, she went to one of the tall windows and drew back the heavy red curtains to look out at the river. Watching the river at night was something she had loved to do ever since Silas had made her a little box bed in the cupboard in the Ramblings, where there was a tiny window that looked directly down on the water. In Jenna’s opinion, the view from her grand windows at the Palace was greatly inferior to the one she had had in her cupboard—from her old perch at the Ramblings she had been able to see the tide’s ebb and flow, which had always fascinated her. Very often there had been a few fishing boats tied up to one of the huge rings set into the walls far below, and she would watch the fishermen clean their catch and mend their nets. Here all she ever saw were distant boats passing back and forth and the moonlight reflected in the water.
That night, however, there was no moon. It was, Jenna knew, the last night of the old moon, and the moon did not rise until very nearly sunrise. Tomorrow night—her birthday night—would be the Dark of the Moon, when it would not rise at all. But even without the moon, the night sky was still beautiful. The clouds had blown away and the stars shone bright and clear.
Jenna drew the heavy curtains behind her so she was in the dark, cold space between them and the window. She stood still, waiting for her eyes to become accustomed to the dark. Her warm breath began to mist the window; she rubbed the glass clear and peered out at the river.
At first sight it appeared deserted, which was not a surprise to Jenna. Not many boats went out at night. And then she caught sight of a movement down by the landing stage. Squeakily she rubbed the window once more and squinted out. There was someone on the landing stage—it was Septimus. He looked as if he were in conversation with someone, although there was no one to be seen. Jenna knew at once that he was talking to the ghost of Alice Nettles—poor Alice Nettles, who had lost her Alther for a second time. Since her terrible loss, Alice had DisAppeared and had taken to wandering around the Castle looking for Alther. She was the source of the disembodied voice that would sometimes whisper in people’s ears, “Where has he gone? Have you seen him, have you seen him?”
Jenna cupped her hands over her nose to protect the glass from her breath and stared into the night. She saw Septimus finish his conversation and walk briskly away, speeding along beside the river, heading toward the side gate that would take him out near Wizard Way.
Jenna longed to throw open the window and climb down the ivy—as she had done many times before—then run across the lawns, waylay Septimus and tell