Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [22]
“Dad,” she said, forgetting her Princess manners in her distress at being asked to unlock the Throne Room. “Dad, we don’t have the key to the Throne Room, do we?”
Silas surprised her. From his pocket he took a heavy, red-jeweled key and presented it to her with a small bow.
“Don’t be silly, Dad.” Jenna laughed, deliberately not taking the key. “You don’t have to bow.”
Silas looked serious. “Maybe I should now that you’re fourteen,” he said.
“Dad?” Jenna began to feel concerned. What was happening? It sounded as though something was about to change, and she didn’t want it to.
Silas looked uncomfortable. “Marcia told me last week about, er . . . her.” He waved his hand at the increasingly affronted Bringer of the Book. “She gave me the key. She said that from your fourteenth birthday forward it is possible at any time that The Time May Be Right.”
“Right for what?” Jenna demanded crossly. She hated it when people arranged things without telling her and then expected her to go along with it. It took her right back to her tenth birthday, when she was suddenly taken away from her family. And, as ever, Marcia was involved.
Silas was conciliatory. “You know for what, love,” he said. “For you to be crowned Queen. You are old enough now. It doesn’t mean you are going to be, just that it is possible. And that is why this lady—”
The Bringer of the Book glared at Silas.
Silas coughed. “Ahem, I mean this very, er . . . important, very official lady has come today. She is the hereditary Bringer of the Book. And traditionally you receive it in the Throne Room.” Silas caught Jenna’s gaze. She looked upset. “It’s uh . . . symbolic, you see. Of, um, of what you will be one day.”
“So why didn’t you tell me?” demanded Jenna. “Or Mum?”
Silas looked upset. “I didn’t want to spoil your birthday for you or Mum. I know how you feel about the Throne Room. I’m sorry, I suppose I should have said.”
Jenna sighed. “Oh, it’s all right, Dad. I’ll do it—as long as you come and help me with the key. Okay?” She gave Silas a meaningful glare.
“Ah. Okay. Right. I’ll come with you.”
The Bringer of the Book objected. “This is a private ceremony. It is not suitable for a member of the public to attend,” she said.
“He’s not a member of the public,” snapped Jenna. “He’s my dad.”
“He is not your father.”
Jenna exploded. “No, he’s not. Of course he isn’t. It’s my birthday and you wouldn’t expect my father to be here, would you?” Jenna took Silas’s arm. “This is my dad. He’s here. And he’s coming with me.” With that, Jenna and Silas slowly and sedately climbed the sweeping stairs up to the first floor. The Bringer of the Book had no alternative but to follow.
They arrived outside the huge double doors that led into the Throne Room, which occupied the very center of the Palace. The doors were covered in ancient gold leaf, worn so thin that the squares of gold showed the red beneath. Jenna thought they looked beautiful—but she had no intention of opening them. “Okay, Dad?” she said.
Silas nodded. He put the key in the lock, and Jenna thought she saw a small flash of Magyk—at least, she hoped she did. Silas turned the key. It went halfway around and stuck.
“It’s Jammed,” he said. “You try it, Jenna.”
To Jenna’s relief, the key was indeed stuck fast. “It is,” she agreed. “It’s Jammed.”
The Bringer of the Book wore a distinctly suspicious expression.
“Would you like to try?” Jenna asked, offering her the key.
The Bringer of the Book snatched the key, pushed it into the lock and gave it a fearsome twist. Jenna could see she meant business and hoped that Silas’s spell held out. It did. Reluctantly, after a lot of vigorous twisting and poking at the lock, the Bringer of the Book returned the key.
“Very well,” she sighed. “The ReTiring Room will do just as well.”
Jenna refrained from asking why she hadn’t said that in the first place. She figured she knew the answer already. The Bringer of the Book wanted to bask in the reflected glory of the Throne Room. Jenna