Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [12]
Feeling as if he were walking underwater, Septimus slowly approached the cocoon, pushing through eddies of DisEnchantment. Swathed in the wool lay a figure so insubstantial that sometimes Septimus was afraid she might disappear at any moment. But so far Syrah Syara, the occupant of the cocoon, had resisted disappearing—although it was a known risk of DisEnchantment, and the longer the process went on, the greater the risk became.
Septimus looked at Syrah’s bluish face, which reflected the light of the chamber and seemed almost transparent. Her brown hair had been neatly plaited, giving her a prim, doll-like appearance—so different from the wild, windblown Syrah he had first met on the Isle of Syren.
“Hello, Syrah,” he said quietly. “It’s me, Septimus.” Syrah did not react, but Septimus knew that that did not necessarily mean she could not hear him. Many people who had successfully emerged from DisEnchantment were able to recount conversations that had taken place in the chamber.
“I’m early today,” Septimus continued. “The sun isn’t even up yet. I want to tell you that I won’t be able to come and see you for the next few days.” He stopped to see if his words were having any effect. There was no reaction and Septimus felt a little upset—he had half hoped that a flicker of disappointment might cross Syrah’s face.
“It’s my Darke Week coming up,” Septimus continued. “And . . . um . . . I want to tell you what I’m going to be doing. Because you’ve done it and you know how scary it feels before you go . . . and I can’t tell anyone else. I mean, I can’t tell anyone who’s not completed an Apprenticeship to an ExtraOrdinary Wizard. Which doesn’t leave many people—well, only Marcia and you, in fact. Of course there would have been Alther before, well . . . you know what happened. Oh, I know he was a ghost and there are lots of ExtraOrdinary Wizard and Apprentice ghosts around but Alther is—I mean was—different. He felt real, like he was still alive. Oh, Syrah, I miss Alther. I really do. And . . . that’s what I wanted to tell you—I’m going to get Alther back. I am. Marcia doesn’t want me to, but it’s my choice and she can’t stop me. All Apprentices have the right to choose what they do in their Darke Week and I’ve chosen. I’m going down into the Darke Halls.”
Septimus paused. He wondered whether he had told Syrah too much. If she really could hear him and understand every word he said, then all he had done was to leave her alone to worry about him. Septimus told himself not to be silly. Just because he had grown to care about what happened to Syrah, it didn’t mean that she cared equally about him. In fact, he told himself, if she was aware of his visits she was more likely to feel relieved at the prospect of getting a rest from him. He grinned ruefully. Something Jenna had said to him more than once recently came back to him: “Not everything revolves around you, Sep.”
Feeling a little awkward, he finished his visit. “So, er, good-bye then. I’ll be fine and, um, I hope you will be too. I’ll see you when I get back.” Septimus would have liked to give Syrah a quick good-bye kiss but that was not possible. A person in the process of DisEnchantment must not be connected to anything that is earthbound. This was why the Forrest Bands holding Syrah suspended had been such a breakthrough—they Magykally broke the connection with earth and allowed the DisEnchantment to work. Most of the time.
Septimus left the DisEnchanting Chamber, made his way through the antechamber and stepped