Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [114]
Septimus’s reply was short and to the point. “Go away,” he said.
“Ahem.” Marcellus coughed ineffectively.
“I am only trying to help,” said Simon. “We all want to find a way to get rid of this Darke Domaine.”
“We do,” said Septimus, looking pointedly at Marcellus. “I’m not so sure about you.”
Simon sighed, which annoyed Septimus. “Look, I don’t do that stuff anymore. I really and truly don’t.”
“Ha!” said Septimus scornfully.
“Now, now, Apprentice. Remember what you promised your mother.”
Septimus ignored Marcellus.
“You just don’t get it, do you?” Simon sounded exasperated. “I made a mistake. Okay, it was a really bad mistake, but I am doing my best to put things right. I don’t know what more I can do. And right now I could be really useful. I know more about this . . . stuff than both of you put together.”
“I’ll bet you do,” snapped Septimus.
“Apprentice, I do think you should calm down and—”
Simon exploded. “You think just because you’re Marcia’s precious little Apprentice you know it all but you don’t.”
“Don’t patronize me,” said Septimus.
“Boys!” Suddenly Sarah was there. “Boys, what did I tell you?”
Septimus and Simon glared at each other. “Sorry, Mum,” they both muttered between clenched teeth.
It was Marcellus who was the go-between. To a seething Septimus he said, “Apprentice, these are desperate times. And desperate times call for desperate measures. We need all the help we can get. And Simon has a great advantage; he knows the Darke and—”
“Too right,” Septimus muttered under his breath.
Marcellus ignored the interruption. “And I do believe that he has changed. If anyone knows a way to defeat this Darke Domaine, it will be him and there is no need to make that kind of face, Septimus.”
“Huh.”
“We must do all that we can. Who knows how long we can keep the Darke Domaine out of the room? Who knows how long the poor people in the Castle can survive inside the Domaine? And indeed, who knows how long the Wizard Tower can hold out?”
“The Wizard Tower can hold out forever,” said Septimus.
“Frankly, I doubt it. And what would be the point if it did? Soon it will be nothing more than an island marooned in a Castle of death.”
“No!”
“Mark my words, Apprentice, the longer the Darke Domaine is in place, the more likely this is to be the case. Most people will survive for a few days. Others, perhaps those less lucky, will survive for longer but be driven mad by their experiences. We have a duty to do our utmost to prevent this. Do you not agree?”
Septimus nodded. “Yes,” he said heavily.
Marcellus arrived where Septimus knew he’d been heading. “To this purpose I believe we should enlist the help of your brother.”
Septimus could not bear the thought. “But we can’t trust him,” he protested.
“Apprentice, I truly believe we can trust him.”
“No, we can’t. He knowingly messes with the Darke. What kind of person does that?”
“People like us?” Marcellus said with a smile.
“That’s different.”
“And I believe your brother is different too.”
“Too right.”
“Apprentice, do not deliberately misunderstand me,” Marcellus said sternly. “Your brother has made mistakes. He has paid—and indeed still is paying—a high price for them.”
“And so he should.”
“You are being a little vindictive, Apprentice. It is not an attractive quality in one with so much Magykal ability as you. You should be more magnanimous in your victory.”
“My victory?”
“Ask yourself who anyone would rather be—Septimus Heap, ExtraOrdinary Apprentice, loved and respected by all in the Castle, with a brilliant future ahead of him, or Simon Heap, disgraced, exiled and living a hand-to-mouth existence in the Port with little to hope for?”
Septimus hadn’t thought of it like that. He glanced over to Simon, who was alone, staring fixedly out the window. It was true; he wouldn’t swap places with Simon for anything.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. Okay.”
And so it was that, much to Sarah Heap’s surprise and joy, her youngest and eldest sons spent the next few hours sitting together at the