Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [117]
Jannit knew at once that they’d hit one of the Beaks—a line of small rocks that came out from Raven’s Rock and were not visible after midtide. Maggie was distraught. It didn’t help that Jannit had said she’d told her they were going too close and that Maggie had snapped she knew that, thank you, Jannit.
Rupert and Nicko took a spare sail and rushed below. Water was pouring into the cargo hold; Rupert was horrified, but Nicko knew that water coming in often looked worse than it really was. He and Rupert rammed a heavy canvas sail into the gash in the hull and found to their relief that the hole was barely bigger than Rupert’s fist. The gush stopped and the red sail darkened as it grew wet. The water still came in but slowly now, dripping from the canvas at a speed that allowed Nicko and Rupert to bail it out with a bucket.
A holed boat must be got to shore as soon as possible. They decided to take the Port barge to the nearest landing stage on the Castle side—no one wanted to risk tying up on the Forest side at night. While Rupert and Nicko poured buckets of river water over the side, Maggie and Jannit, both pulling hard on the unusually stiff tiller, took the barge across to the Palace Landing Stage. As they got closer they saw that the normally brightly lit Palace—a landmark for returning mariners—was utterly dark.
“It’s as if it isn’t there anymore,” whispered Jannit, staring across to where she knew the Palace should be and seeing nothing but blackness.
By the time they drew near to the Palace Landing Stage— which, unlike anything behind it, was still visible—everyone was having second thoughts about the wisdom of getting any closer. Nicko shone one of the powerful boat lanterns across to the bank but he could see nothing. The light petered out just behind the landing stage on what looked like a fog bank, but different. Fog had a brightness to it and bounced light back. This Fog drew in the light and killed it, thought Nicko with a shiver.
“I don’t think we should get any closer,” he said. “It’s not safe.”
But Maggie, worried about her boat sinking, didn’t think the river was exactly safe either. She pushed the tiller hard to the right—the barge was being particularly contrary—and headed for the landing stage.
Suddenly a ghostly voice drifted across the water.
“Beware, beware. Come no closer. Flee . . . flee this place. This terrible place of doooooooom.”
White-faced in the light of the lantern, they looked at each other.
“I told you,” said Nicko. “I told you it wasn’t safe. We have to go somewhere else.”
“All right, all right,” snapped Maggie, who no longer had any confidence in her own decisions. “But where? It’s got to be close. Supposing everywhere is like this—what do we do then?”
Nicko had been thinking. He knew from Stanley that this was a Darke Domaine. Nicko hadn’t taken much notice of his Magyk classes at school—in fact, as soon as he was old (and brave) enough he had cut them to go to the boatyard—but he did still remember a few Magykal rhymes. The ones he thought of were:
A Darke Domaine
Must remain
Within the bounds of water.
and:
The Castle Walls are tall and stout,
They are built to keep the Darkenesse out.
But if the Darkenesse grows within,
The Castle Walls will keep it in.
“Everywhere won’t be like this,” said Nicko in answer to Maggie’s question. “This Darke stuff is stopped either by the water or by the Castle Walls. That’s why we were all right in the boatyard, because we’re outside the