Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [140]
“I’m taking Spit Fyre out after that thing,” said Marcia. “I’ll get Merrin Meredith if it’s the last thing I do.”
Septimus thought it probably would be.
“Septimus, fly Spit Fyre back to the Wizard Tower at once. Land him on the dragon platform. You three can get off.”
Septimus had no intention of getting off his dragon, but he knew better than to argue just then. He turned Spit Fyre around and headed back to the Wizard Tower. Spit Fyre arrowed through the join and took them into the bright, buzzing, Magykal air that surrounded the Wizard Tower. He landed perfectly on the dragon ledge.
“Wait there, I’ll open the window,” said Marcia, slipping down from the Navigator seat. She ushered Jenna and Nicko inside and stood waiting impatiently for Septimus to relinquish his place in the Pilot Dip.
“Hurry up, Septimus. Let me get on.”
Septimus did not move.
“Septimus, get off. I am ordering you!”
“And I am refusing,” said Septimus. “I’ll get him.”
“No, Septimus. Get off at once.”
The stalemate might have lasted a while had not the orange warning lights zipping up and down the outside of the SafeShield suddenly stopped flashing.
Marcia gasped. “The SafeShield’s failing! Septimus get off! Now!”
The blue and purple skin of the SafeShield began to take on a dull, reddish hue. A movement above caught Septimus’s eye—tendrils of Darke Fog were beginning to drift down through the join. Suddenly a great curved black claw reached down through the gap.
Septimus knew what he had to do.
“Up, Spit Fyre,” he said. “Up!”
Before Marcia could do anything to stop him, Pilot and dragon flew up through the dim glow of the failing Magyk to meet dragon and pilot.
Chapter 46
Synchronicity
Septimus and Spit Fyre burst through the top of the SafeShield and Spit Fyre’s nose spine slammed into the Darke dragon’s soft white underbelly with a jarring thud. Spit Fyre was sent reeling backward, but the Darke dragon seemed no more upset than if it had been stung by a wasp.
Spit Fyre recovered fast and snorted with excitement. He was at the age when, in ancient times when the world was full of dragons, he would have been looking for his first fight. In those days the dragon community would not have regarded him as an adult until he had fought another dragon—and won. And so, deep down in his dragon brain, Spit Fyre wanted a fight.
So did the Darke dragon’s pilot. Merrin leaned out between the bristling spines, his eyes wild with excitement. Using a popular Castle insult for Apprentices, he yelled, “I’ll get you, caterpillar boy!”
“No chance, rat face!”
Merrin pointed his left thumb at Septimus like a pistol. “You’re dead. And your toy dragon. Yeah!”
In answer Septimus and Spit Fyre shot up past the Darke dragon before it had time to register what was happening. They whizzed by so close that Septimus could see Merrin’s zits blazing out of his pale face and the look of hatred in his eyes—which shocked him more than the close-up view of the Darke dragon. As Spit Fyre shot past, Septimus made a very rude sign at Merrin. He left behind a stream of obscenities hemorrhaging into the Darke Fog.
Septimus and Spit Fyre stopped at the very edge of the Fog and looked back. Far below them, at the bottom of the clear tunnel of air that their wake had created, they saw the huge bulk of the Darke dragon. Behind it they could see the fading blue and purple Magykal glow of the Wizard Tower changing slowly to a dull red.
As they hovered above the Darke Domaine, suspended between the stars above and the blanket of silence below, a stillness spread through Septimus and his dragon and together they entered a state that is much sought after by dragon Imprintors but rarely achieved. It is known in dragon manuals (see Draxx, page 1141) as Synchronicity. Dragon and Imprintor became One, thinking and acting in perfect harmony. They hovered