Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [66]
This was too much for Sarah. She stood up and, hands on hips, hair angrily awry, she raised her voice even louder. “Now look here, Marcia Overstrand, I have had quite enough of you barging in on my daughter’s birthday—and my son’s too, as it happens—and tearing everything apart. I will thank you to go away and leave us in peace.”
Hildegarde had been watching Marcia’s handling of the proceedings with dismay. Before her promotion to the Wizard Tower, Hildegarde had been on door duty at the Palace. She knew Sarah Heap well and she liked her a lot. Hildegarde stepped forward and laid her hand on Sarah’s arm.
“Sarah, I’m very sorry, but this is extremely serious,” she said. “There really is someone in your attic and he has, so it seems, set up a Darke Domaine in there. Madam Marcia has placed a protective Cordon around the Palace to prevent the Domaine escaping and now, for the safety of all of us in the Castle, she needs to place the Palace in Quarantine. I’m so sorry this had to happen today of all days, but we dare not leave it a moment longer. You do understand, don’t you?”
Sarah stared at Hildegarde in disbelief. She wiped a hand across her forehead and sank into a battered old armchair. A faint groan came from the chair, and Sarah sprang to her feet. “Oh, sorry, Godric,” she said, apologizing to the very faded ghost who had fallen asleep in the chair some years ago. The ghost slept on.
“Is this true?” Sarah asked Marcia.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, if only you’d listen.”
“You haven’t been trying to tell me anything,” Sarah pointed out. “You have been issuing instructions. As usual.” She looked around, worried. “Where’s Silas?”
Her question was answered by the sound of running footsteps above. Silas Heap, blue Ordinary Wizard robes flying as, two at a time, he raced down the sweeping stairs that led down to the entrance hall was yelling, “Everyone—get out, get out!”
Silas skidded to a halt at the foot of the stairs and, for the first time in his life, he looked pleased to see Marcia. “Marcia,” he puffed. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here. My SafetyGate has been broken. It’s got out of the attic. It’s upstairs now and it’s filling the place up—fast. We’ve got to get a Quarantine put on. Marcia, you need to do a Call Out, get a Cordon around if we’ve got time—”
“All done,” Marcia told Silas briskly. “The Cordon of Wizards is in position.”
Silas was stunned into silence.
Marcia got down to business. “Is there anyone else in the Palace?”
Sarah shook her head. “Snorri and her mother have gone off on their boat. The Pots have gone to see the lights. Maizie’s out lighting up, Cook’s gone home with a cold, and no one’s arrived for the party yet.”
“Good,” said Marcia. She glanced up to the top of the wide flight of stairs, which led to a gallery from which the upstairs corridor ran the length of the Palace. Along the gallery, the rushlights were burning as usual, but the dimming of the light where the corridor stretched away both to the left and right told Marcia that the more distant lights were being extinguished. The Darke Domaine was getting closer.
“Everyone will exit the premises,” she said. “Now!”
“Ethel!” gasped Sarah. She raced off and disappeared into the Long Walk.
“Ethel? Who on earth is Ethel?” Marcia glanced up to the gallery. The flame on the farthest rushlight began to dim.
“Ethel’s a duck,” said Silas.
“A duck?”
But Silas was gone, racing off in pursuit of Sarah—and Maxie, who he just remembered he had left sitting by the fire that morning.
Up on the gallery the first rushlight had gone out and the flame on a second, nearer rushlight was faltering. Marcia looked at Jenna, Beetle and Hildegarde. “It’s moving fast. If I don’t do the Quarantine now, this is going to get out. And frankly, I am not sure that our Cordon will hold it. We are very widely spaced. And I certainly won’t have time to Raise a Safety