Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [120]
“I’ll just Call for Spit Fyre one more time,” said Septimus, putting off the terrifying moment of climbing out.
Marcellus glanced anxiously back at the door. A long stream of Darke Fog was curling beneath it and creeping across the floor toward the fireplace.
“No time now,” said Marcellus. “Do that when we’ve got down there.”
Shakily Septimus took hold of the rope. His hands were clammy but he had made the rope rough and thick for a good grip. He climbed up onto the windowsill and as he swung his legs over the side, Septimus felt a shiver of vertigo run through him—there was nothing between his feet and the river far below.
“Be careful, love,” said Sarah, raising her voice against a sudden gust of wind. “Don’t go too fast—far better you get down safely. When you’ve got to the bottom, give the rope three tugs, then Jenna will go.”
With his arm around his Sleeping horse, Simon watched his youngest brother inch out into the night until all he could see were Septimus’s hands gripping the rope and his curls blowing wildly in the wind.
Septimus began his descent. He knew that to give everyone a chance of getting out he had to put his fear of heights to one side and concentrate on getting quickly down the rope. It was not easy. The wind kept pushing him against the wall, banging him against the protruding stones, taking his breath away and disorientating him. It was only when—terrifyingly—his grip slipped and he found himself almost at right angles to the wall that Septimus discovered that if he deliberately leaned out from the rope, the wind buffeted him less and he could almost walk down the rough stones, many of which stuck quite a long way out and gave good footholds.
Septimus’s descent continued until he stepped on the bush that had saved Stanley. The sudden change of foothold panicked him and he very nearly let go of the rope. But as he steadied himself and got his breath back he realized he could smell the river and hear the lapping of water. He speeded up and soon, like Stanley before him, he had landed on the mud. He gave three quick tugs of the rope and leaned against the Ramblings wall, shaking. He had done it. He felt the rope move in his hands and knew that Jenna was on her way down.
It was not long before Jenna landed beside him, breathless and exhilarated. Unlike Septimus, she had loved the excitement of the descent. They stood, looking up to the only lighted window in the entire Ramblings wall and saw another figure climb out. The figure moved quickly down, and Septimus was surprised at how agile Marcellus was—but a scream when the figure met the spiky bush growing from the wall told them it was Lucy, not Marcellus as they had all agreed earlier.
“He made me go first,” said Lucy breathlessly, as she tugged the rope. “He said he’d lived long enough already. And he said Simon must come next.”
“Simon!” spluttered Septimus. “But we need Marcellus.”
Lucy said nothing. She looked up and did not take her eyes off Simon as he descended the rope, fast and easily. Soon he was beside them. Quickly he gave the rope three tugs and looked up anxiously at the window.
“The door’s not going to hold much longer,” he said. “They’re going to have to get a move on.”
It was too much for Jenna. She had waited once for her mother outside a room filling with Darkenesse and once was enough. She couldn’t stand the thought of doing it again.
“Mum!” she called up. “Mum! Hurry up! Please, hurry!”
But no one came.
Up in the room behind the Big Red Door, two people who should have known better were arguing about who was leaving next. Sarah looked around the room she loved—that she now knew Silas loved too—and she dithered. No matter that Benjamin Heap’s door was changing as she looked at it, the red paint blackening as though a fire was raging on the other side. No matter that wisps of Darke Fog hung in the room like storm clouds heralding the arrival of a hurricane—Sarah would not budge. She was determined to be the last to leave.
“Marcellus. You must go first.”
“I will not leave you here alone, Sarah. Please,