Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [152]
As the sounds of Nursie being rapidly escorted off the premises came through the flimsy partition, Septimus smiled. Marcia was back to her normal self again.
* * *
Outside the Manuscriptorium, Marcia found herself plagued with unwelcome intrusions. Nursie was sticking to her like Thing skin and, to top it all, she now saw the familiar figure of Marcellus Pye approaching. Marcia decided to pretend she hadn’t seen him.
“Marcia! Marcia, wait!” Marcellus called.
“Sorree. Must dash!” she called out.
But Marcellus was not to be put off. He speeded up, dragging behind him an unwilling companion. As the pair drew near Marcia saw who it was.
“Merrin Meredith!” she spluttered.
Nursie’s hearing was not what it had been. “Yes?” she said.
“And I thought I told you to go home,” Marcia snapped at Nursie.
But Nursie did not hear anything. She was staring at the shambling, sniffing figure that Marcellus was dragging behind him.
A red-faced and very harassed Marcellus reached Marcia and Nursie.
“Marcia. I have something for you,” said Marcellus. He burrowed into a deep pocket, drew out a small brown box made of cheap card and handed it to Marcia.
Marcia looked at it impatiently. “Springo Spigots,” she read. “Marcellus, what on earth would I want with Springo Spigots?”
“It’s the only box that Sally had,” said Marcellus. “And it’s not spigots—whatever they are. I’d rather spigot a spigotty-thing any day than . . . well, you’d better take a look.”
Marcia’s curiosity got the better of her impatience. She opened the end of the flimsy cardboard box and drew out a small piece of bloodstained cloth. Something heavy fell into her hand. She gasped.
“Good grief, Marcellus. How did you get this?”
“How do you think?” Marcellus replied quietly. He looked pointedly at Merrin, who was staring at the ground.
Marcia took a closer look at Merrin and saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage. An ooze of deep pink was showing on the inside of it where—Marcia now knew—his thumb no longer was. She stared at the Two-Faced Ring that lay heavy and cold in her hand and felt almost afraid.
“May I suggest that this ring be destroyed,” Marcellus said quietly. “Even in the most Hidden of hiding places it will one day give some new fool—or worse—overweening powers.”
“Yes, it must be destroyed,” Marcia agreed. “But we no longer have the Fyres to do it.”
Marcellus felt nervous as he offered his solution. “Marcia, I hope you trust me enough by now to consider my offer seriously. I would like to return to my old Alchemie Chamber. If you allow this I could start up the Fyre and within a month we could rid the Castle of the pernicious ring forever. I give you my word I will preserve the Ice Tunnels and meddle with nothing.”
“Very well, Marcellus. I accept your word. I shall place this ring in the Hidden Shelf until then.”
“Um . . . I have one more request,” Marcellus said tentatively.
Marcia knew what it was. “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I will second Septimus to you for the next month; I can see you will need his help. We are all in this together now. We need the Alchemie as well as the Magyk to keep the Darke in balance. Do you not agree?”
Marcellus smiled broadly as his old life opened up to him once more with all its amazing vistas. A wave of happiness spread through him. “Yes, I do agree. I most definitely do.”
* * *
While this conversation had been going on, Nursie had taken hold of Merrin’s bandaged hand and was tut-tutting over the bandage, which was, even Marcellus could see, a mess. Marcia looked at the pair and felt exasperated. What was she to do with Merrin? She blamed the evil influence of the Two-Faced Ring for much that he had done, but there was no denying that he had chosen to put it on in the first place.
Marcia knew that Nursie was the landlady of The Doll House, a dingy guesthouse in the Port