Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [113]
Sarah got out the WaterGnome and stood it on top of the cupboard where she had found it. She smiled; she could see why Silas had hidden it—it was one of the rude ones. But none the worse for that, Sarah thought, as the Gnome provided a stream of water for the kettle. Water was the thing she had been most worried about—hence the risky trip to the Well Hall. But now, thanks to Silas, they had a reliable supply.
Sarah hung the kettle over the fire and sat to watch it boil, remembering how she used to do this every morning. She had loved those rare moments to herself when all was quiet and peaceful. Of course when the children were very little she often had one or two of them sitting sleepily at her feet, but they were always quiet—and once they were older none of them ever woke up until she banged on the breakfast porridge pan. Sarah remembered how she would take the kettle off the fire just before it began to whistle, brew herself a cup of herb tea and sit quietly watching the sleeping forms strewn around the floor—just as she was doing now. Except, she thought wryly, as Thunder made his presence known in his own special way, she wouldn’t have been staring at a fresh pile of horse poop.
Sarah got the shovel, opened the window and launched the steaming pile into the air. She leaned out and breathed in the sharp, fresh morning air, which was dusted with a scent of snow and river mud. Happy memories of MidWinter Feast days with Silas and the children came flooding back—along with a memory of one much less happy day fourteen years ago. She turned and looked at the sleeping form of her youngest son and thought that, whatever happened, he had now at last spent a night in the room he should have grown up in.
Sarah watched the pale, wintry sun edging up above the distant hills, shining weakly through the bare branches of the trees on the opposite side of the river. She sighed. It was good to see daylight once more—but who knew what the day would bring?
It brought another fight between Septimus and Simon.
Septimus and Marcellus had retreated to a quiet corner by Silas’s bookshelves and were looking through his old Magyk books, searching for anything written about Darke Domaines. They found nothing of use. Most of Silas’s books were common textbooks or cheap versions of more arcane books with pages missing—always the pages that promised something interesting.
Septimus, however, had just found a small pamphlet hidden inside an ink-spattered copy of Year III Magyk: Advanced Bothers when Simon wandered across to see if any of his old favorites were still on the shelves. He glanced down and saw the title of the pamphlet: The Darke Power of the Two-Faced Ring.
A dangerous and deeply flawed device, historically used by Darke Wizards and their acolytes, Septimus read. Traditionally worn on the left thumb. Once put on, the ring will travel in only one way and so cannot be removed except over the base of the thumb. The faces are thought to represent those of the two Wizards who created it. Each Wizard desired to possess the Ring and they fought to the death over it. (See this author’s pamphlet on the formation of the Bottomless Whirlpool. Only six groats from Wywald’s Witchery). After this the Ring passed from Wizard to Wizard, wreaking havoc. It is thought to have been instrumental in the Slime Plague at the Port, the horrific Night River Serpent attacks at the Ramblings and very possibly the Darke Pit over which the Municipal rubbish dump was eventually built. The Two-Faced Ring possesses Incremental Power—each wearer attains the Darke power of all the previous wearers. This power reaches its full potential only after it has been worn for thirteen lunar months. Although many say that the Two-Faced Ring is still in existence, the author does not believe this to be the case. It has not been heard of for many hundreds of years now, and the likelihood is that is has been irretrievably lost.
“Interesting,