Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [153]
Nursie looked surprised. “Why? You fed up with the Tower, are you? Too much cleaning, I suppose. And all those stairs must be hard on the knees. Well, it’s half a crown a week, payable in advance, hot water and bedding is extra.”
“I am perfectly happy in the Wizard Tower, thank you,” said Marcia icily. “However, I would like to pay a year in advance for this young man here.”
“A year in advance?” Nursie gasped, not able to believe her luck. She could get the house repainted and, best of all, she could afford to stop working for those ghastly witches.
“To include nursing services and general care and attention,” said Marcia. “Also hot water, bedding and food. No doubt the young man would be happy to help around the house once his hand is better.”
“It won’t ever be better,” growled Merrin. “It hasn’t got a thumb anymore.”
“You’ll get used to it,” said Marcia cheerfully. “You are free of the Ring now and you have to make the best of it. I suggest you take my offer to go with the Nurse here. Otherwise all you will be seeing for the foreseeable future is the inside of the Wizard Tower Secure Chamber.”
“I’ll go with her. She’s all right,” said Merrin.
Nursie patted Merrin’s good hand. “There’s a good boy,” she said.
“Marcellus, do you have six guineas on you?” asked Marcia.
“Six guineas?” Marcellus squeaked.
“Yes. You’re always rattling with gold. I’ll pay you back.”
Marcellus delved into his pockets and very reluctantly he handed over six shining new guineas. Nursie’s eyes bulged. She had never seen so much gold. Marcia added a crown from her own pocket and presented the money to the dumbstruck landlady.
“Slightly over, I think you’ll find,” said Marcia briskly. “But it will cover your fare back to the Port. If you hurry you will catch the evening barge.”
“Come on, dearie.” Nursie linked her arm through Merrin’s good one. “Let’s get out of this place. I never did like the Castle. Nasty memories.”
“Me too,” said Merrin. “It’s a dump.”
Marcellus and Marcia watched Merrin and Nursie head off. “Well, they seem well suited,” Marcellus said.
“So they should be,” said Marcia. “They’re mother and son.”
Foxy was the first scribe Marcia tracked down and sent off to the Manuscriptorium. On his way Foxy met Beetle coming out of Larry’s Dead Languages.
“Wotcha, Beet!”
“Wotcha, Foxo!”
They surveyed each other for a moment, smiling broadly.
“You all right, Foxo?” asked Beetle.
“Yeah.” Foxy grinned.
“You weren’t outside when it got you then?”
“Nah. Fell asleep by the fire and woke up two days later. Mouth felt like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, but apart from that all was fine. But . . .” Foxy sighed. “My auntie’s missing. She was out when the Domaine came over our way. Never made it back. Can’t find her anywhere. And now . . . well, now they’re saying about a Dragon taking people.” He shuddered.
“Oh, Foxy,” said Beetle. “I am so sorry.”
“Yeah.” Foxy changed the subject. “But hey, you don’t look so good. Was it bad in the Chamber?”
“Yeah,” said Beetle. “Lots of hammering and trying to get in.”
“Not nice,” said Foxy.
“No. And I never want to see a licorice bootlace ever again.”
“Oh. Right.” Foxy decided not to ask why. Beetle had looked strangely desperate as he’d said “licorice bootlace.”
Foxy decided to change the subject. “So, um, how’s Larry?”
“Not nice either,” said Beetle. “Just got fired, in fact. For coming in late.”
“Late?”
“Two days late.”
Foxy put his arm around Beetle’s shoulders. He’d never seen Beetle look so down. “It’s all rubbish, isn’t it?” he said.
“It’s not great, Foxo.”
“Want a sausage sandwich?”
Beetle saw the welcome lights of Wizard Sandwiches glowing through the dimming