Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [34]
Beetle decided that his only chance was to convince Merrin that his Darke Domaine had failed and get Merrin to walk out with him. That way he’d have a safe passage back. It would be tricky, but it might just work. Taking care not to lie—because lies can fuel anything Darke—Beetle took a deep breath and launched into the attack.
“Merrin Meredith, what are you doing in the Palace?” he demanded.
“Atchoo! I could say the same to you. Someone else fired you, have they? Got nothing better to do than go snooping in people’s bedrooms?”
“You’d know all about snooping,” Beetle retorted. “And as for being fired—I hear Jillie Djinn’s at last seen sense and fired you. What took her so long I don’t know.”
“Stupid cow,” sniffed Merrin.
Beetle did not disagree.
“Anyway, she didn’t fire me—not for long, anyway. Jillie haddock-face Djinn does what I say now, because I’ve got this.” Merrin jabbed his left thumb in the air, taunting Beetle with the Two-Faced Ring—a thick gold ring with two evil-looking faces carved from dark green jade.
Beetle looked at the ring disdainfully. “Gothyk Grotto junk,” he said scornfully.
“That shows how much you know, beetlebrain,” Merrin retorted. “This is the real thing. Those stupid scribes don’t dare mess with me anymore. I call the shots at that dump.” Merrin was enjoying boasting to Beetle. Surreptitiously, he slipped his hand under his pillow to check—for the twentieth time that day—that The Darke Index was still there. It was. The small but deadly book that Merrin had acquired during his time working for Simon Heap at the Observatory—and which had led him to the Two-Faced Ring—felt crumpled and slightly damp to the touch, but it gave Merrin a sudden burst of confidence. “Soon I’ll be calling the shots in the whole Castle. That stupid Septimus Heap and his pathetic dragon had better watch out, cuz anything he can do I can do ten times better!” Merrin waved his arms expansively. “There’s no way he could even begin to do this.”
“Do what?” said Beetle. “Hide up in the Palace attic and sniff?”
Beetle thought he noticed a flicker of uncertainty pass over Merrin’s face.
“Nah. You know what I mean. This. And I can get anyone to come here I want. Yesterday I got the prissy Princess to put her little foot in, and this morning I got the old Heap Wizard to put his stupid head in. They both got scared and ran away but it didn’t matter. We got what we needed.”
“We?” asked Beetle.
“Yeah. I’ve got backup. You want to watch out, office boy, because today I got you good and proper.” Merrin laughed. “You thought you were coming to see your stupid dad!”
Beetle had forgotten how obnoxious Merrin was. He fought down the urge to punch him. It wasn’t—as Jenna would no doubt have told him—worth it.
“I am here,” Beetle said, “because Princess Jenna asked me to investigate some noises in the attic. I told her it was probably rats and it turns out I was right. It’s one big stupid rat.”
“Don’t call me stupid,” Merrin flared. “I’ll show you who’s the stupid one here. You. You walked right in.”
“Into what—your smelly bedroom?” Beetle said scornfully.
Merrin began to look less confident. “Didn’t you notice anything?” he asked.
“A load of old junk and empty rooms,” Beetle replied dismissively, careful to still speak the truth.
“That all?”
Beetle sensed he was winning. He avoided a direct answer and snapped, “Merrin, what are you talking about?”
Merrin’s confidence suddenly left him. His shoulders sagged. “Nothing ever goes right,” he moaned. He looked up at Beetle as if expecting sympathy. “It’s ’cause I’m not well,” he said. “I could do it if I didn’t have this horrible cold.”