Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [137]
Up in the Pyramid Library a windswept Marcia closed the tiny window that led out onto the Pyramid steps. She looked amazed. “I saw his tail! What, for goodness’ sake, is he doing up there?”
“Keeping safe, I suppose. He must have found the expansion point where the SafeShields meet and slipped in,” said Alther. “I am guessing that is where they meet?”
Marcia nodded. “I’ve not had much luck with sticking things together recently,” she sighed.
“No defense is ever impregnable, Marcia. You seem to have done a pretty good job to me. Besides, a dragon may slip in and out of a SafeShield in a way that a Wizard cannot.” He paused. “I am sorry I cannot be more help, Marcia. Septimus thought I could UnDo the Darke Domaine because unfortunately, Merrin Meredith and I were both Apprenticed to the same Wizard.”
“Heavens, so you were. I’d never thought of it like that,” said Marcia.
“I try not to myself,” said Alther. “Septimus had hoped that the more senior Apprentice could fix the junior’s mess. But as I am no longer Living the rules don’t apply. I only wish they did.” Alther sighed. “So it is down to you, Marcia. Your dragon awaits. As indeed does your Apprentice.”
“And that little piece of vermin.”
“Indeed, although I doubt Merrin Meredith is exactly awaiting you.”
A few minutes later Marcia closed the Dragon Window with a bang.
“He won’t come. The wretched beast is ignoring me!”
“Well, if the dragon won’t come to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, the ExtraOrdinary Wizard must go to the dragon,” said Alther.
“What—up there? At the top of the pyramid?”
“It can be done,” said Alther, “take my word for it. I wouldn’t recommend it, but desperate times call for . . .”
“Desperate measures,” said Marcia, steeling herself.
Some minutes later, if anyone had been able to see through the Darke Fog they would have picked out the arresting sight of Marcia Overstrand climbing shakily up the stepped sides of the Golden Pyramid on top of the Wizard Tower. The wind blew her purple cloak out behind her like the wings of a bird as she moved through the fuzz of Magyk beneath the Magykal indigo and purple lights, following the fainter figure of a ghost—similarly clad in purple—who was guiding her up toward a dragon that roosted on the flat square at the very top of the pyramid.
As soon as Marcia reached the dragon’s tail she grabbed hold of one of the spines. “Got you!” she gasped.
Spit Fyre raised his head sleepily and looked around. Drat, he thought, it’s that irritating one in purple again. Spit Fyre’s Pilot had never told him to come when the Purple One Called, but he had instructed him to let the Purple One fly him. She wasn’t very good at it from what he could remember.
Spit Fyre patiently allowed Marcia to clamber into the Pilot Dip and waited while she Reversed her cloak to give some protection from the Darke Domaine. When she told him “Spit Fyre, follow that ghost,” he stretched out his wings and, with great control, he flew slowly upward, following Alther as the ghost headed up toward the tiny expansion gap where the four SafeShields joined. As he approached, Spit Fyre performed a rare arrow maneuver—he folded his wings close to his body and then flipped into a completely vertical position, leaving Marcia to use the Panic Spine for what it was meant for—hanging on in a panic. With his nose pointing up to the sky, like a dragon-shaped bolt from a crossbow, Spit Fyre shot through the expansion gap at a tremendous speed and left it as undisturbed as he had done when he had arrowed in two days earlier.
Ghost and dragon flew off through the Darke Fog, heading for the Maker’s Mile Tally Hut.
Down below in Marcia’s rooms, the big purple door recognized Silas Heap. It opened and Silas stepped inside.
“Marcia?” he whispered.
There was no reply. The firelight flickered, casting weird shadows on the wall of . . . a dwarf and . . . someone balancing a pile of doughnuts on his head?
Silas felt a little spooked. “Marcia—are you there? It’s only me. I came to see if you were all right. I . . . well I thought you looked a bit lonely.