Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [19]
Marcellus was annoyed. He snapped his book closed and got to his feet. He made a slight, old-fashioned bow. “ExtraOrdinary Wizard. As you requested, I have given my opinion. I regret that it was not to your liking, but I repeat: the Dark of the Moon is the most effective time for Septimus to embark upon his Darke Week. It is the most effective time for him to go and, as I understand it, effective is what Septimus wishes it to be. He is fourteen now—today I believe.” Marcellus smiled at Septimus. “Fourteen is considered old enough to make important decisions, Marcia. I think you should respect that. I have nothing further to add and I bid you good day.” Marcellus bowed once again—deeper this time—and headed for the large purple door.
Septimus leaped to his feet. “I’ll get the stairs for you,” he said. Marcellus had had trouble with the stairs when he came up and had arrived in Marcia’s room somewhat dizzy and dishevelled.
As Septimus escorted Marcellus Pye along the landing, his old tutor looked behind him to check that Marcia had not sent some kind of eavesdropping creature to follow him. He saw nothing and said in a low voice, “Septimus, I hope you realize that I would never have advised you to go into the Darke at this time if I did not have something for you that I truly believe will completely protect you.” Marcellus fixed his deep brown eyes on his Apprentice—or not, depending on who you sided with. “I care about you, just as much as Madam Marcia Overstrand does.”
Septimus turned a little pink. He nodded.
Marcellus Pye continued, “I did not mention this to Marcia because I believe that even now there are things that should be kept secret from the Wizarding community. They are such gossips. But for you, as my Alchemie Apprentice, it is different. Come and see me this afternoon; there is something I wish to give you.”
Septimus nodded. “Thank you, Marcellus. I’ll see you later.”
Septimus helped Marcellus onto the stairs and set them moving downward on delicate mode—normally used for elderly Wizards and visiting parents. He watched the apparently young Marcellus Pye disappear from view. He smiled—it was in the little details that Marcellus gave his true age away.
Septimus returned to his place by the fire. He and Marcia sat in silence for a while until Marcia broke it by saying, “I don’t want to lose my Apprentice. More than that, Septimus, I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t. I promise,” Septimus replied.
“Don’t make promises that you can’t be sure to keep,” Marcia told him.
A silence hung in the air.
“Sner . . . urrrufff!”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Marcia muttered, casting an irritated glance at the jinnee. “Septimus, I didn’t want to mention this in front of Mr. Pye, but I am concerned about the recent glitches we’ve had here in the Tower. Going into the Darke is a two-way thing. It can open up channels for the Darke to come this way too.”
“I know,” said Septimus. “I’ve been practicing Barriers all last week.”
“Yes, indeed you have. But it’s still risky—and particularly so at the Dark of the Moon. I am asking you to reconsider your decision and go at the full moon instead.”
“But Marcellus says that this timing is my best chance to get Alther back,” said Septimus. “Probably my only chance.”
“Marcellus! What does he know?” snapped Marcia. And then, knowing she was not playing fair, said, “Alther would agree with me.”
“How can you know what Alther would think?” retorted Septimus. “You don’t even know if he can think anymore.”
“Oh, Septimus, don’t,” Marcia protested. “You don’t know how often I wish I had stopped the Banish in time. Not a day passes when that awful moment doesn’t come back to me. And then telling Alice . . .” She shook her head, unable to go on.
They were silent for a while and then Septimus said, “Marcia?”
“Yes?”
“You know how you are always saying that we must be honest with each other?”
“Yeees?”
“Sner . . . snurrrufff . . .”
“There’s something I want to ask you and I want you to be honest with me.”
“Of course I will be, Septimus.” Marcia sounded offended.
“If you were me and