Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [35]
“None of your business,” said Merrin gloomily.
Beetle reckoned it was time to make a move. He turned to leave, hoping that he’d done enough to convince Merrin that his Darke Domaine had failed. “Right. I’ll be off then,” he said. “I’ll tell the Heaps where to find you.” He began to walk slowly to the door.
“No! Hey, wait!” Merrin called out.
Beetle stopped. He felt immensely relieved but did not want to show it. “Why?” he demanded.
“Please, Beetle, please don’t tell them. I’ve got nowhere else to go. I feel awful and no one even cares.” Merrin inspected the sheet for a space where he hadn’t blown his nose and blew noisily into it.
“And whose fault is that?”
“Oh, I expect it’s my fault,” said Merrin. “It always is my fault. It’s just not fair.” He twisted the Two-Faced Ring anxiously.
A sudden spatter of sleet drummed on the window. Merrin looked up pathetically. “Beetle. It . . . it’s cold outside. It’s wet and it’s nearly dark. I’ve nowhere to go. Please don’t tell.”
Beetle hurried on with his plan. “Look, Merrin, Sarah Heap is really nice. She won’t throw you out, not in the state you’re in.” Beetle reckoned he was telling the truth here. “She’ll take care of you until you’re better.”
“Will she?”
“Of course she will. Sarah Heap will take care of anything. Even you.”
Merrin had run out of dry sheet. He blew his nose on his blanket.
Beetle pressed on. “So why don’t you come downstairs with me to where it’s nice and warm?”
“All right then,” said Merrin. He coughed and fell back against his stained pillow. “Oh . . . I think I’m too weak to get up.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve only got a cold,” said Beetle scathingly.
“I’ve got . . . flu. Probably pneu . . . pneumonia in fact.”
Beetle wondered if Merrin might, for once, be telling the truth. He did actually look ill. His eyes were bright and feverish and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.
“I’ll come with you . . . I’ll give myself up, I will,” wheezed Merrin. “But you’ll have to help me. Please.”
Reluctantly Beetle went over to the bed. It smelled of dirty, damp clothes, sweat and sickness.
“Thank you, Beetle,” Merrin murmured, gazing oddly over his shoulder into the distance. The hairs on the back of Beetle’s neck began to prickle uncomfortably and the temperature in the chilly little room dropped a few degrees lower. Merrin held out his snotty hand and as Beetle leaned forward, steeling himself to take it, Merrin sat bolt upright and grabbed hold of Beetle’s arm. Tight as a vice Merrin’s bony fingers encircled his forearm. The ring on Merrin’s thumb pressed into his flesh and began to burn into it. Beetle gasped.
“Never, ever call me stupid,” Merrin hissed, looking intently over Beetle’s shoulder. “I am not stupid—you are.”
Beetle felt chilled. He knew that something very nasty was standing behind him and he dared not turn around. Beetle did not reply. His throat had suddenly gone dry.
Behind Beetle was a mass of Things, which had sensed Merrin losing his grip on the Darke Domaine. Merrin had acquired them in the Badlands some eighteen months previously, when he had taken possession of the Two-Faced Ring. Once the ring reached its full power, Merrin had Summoned the Things to the Palace because he had what he called “plans.”
Merrin’s confidence had returned. “You are in my Darke Domaine and you know it,” he crowed. “And I know you know it.”
Beetle swayed. Merrin’s ring was sending stabs of pain shooting up his arm and into his head. He felt sick and very, very dizzy. He tried to pull away but Merrin held him fast. With his free hand Merrin pulled a small, dog-eared book from under the bedcovers and waved it triumphantly at Beetle. “See this? I’ve read all of this and I can do stuff you can’t even dream of,” he hissed into Beetle’s ear. “You wait, office boy. I am going to show them all in this smelly little Castle and that stuck-up Manuscriptorium that they should have been nice to me. They’re going to regret it big time. This is my Palace now, not the stupid Princess’s. Soon the Castle will be mine and I am going to have everything