Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [67]
“You can’t leave Mum and Dad,” gasped Jenna.
“I have no choice. They’re putting the whole Castle at risk—for a duck.”
“You can’t do that! I’m going to go and get them.” With that Jenna raced off. Hildegarde darted after her and grabbed her witch’s cloak.
Jenna spun around angrily. “Let go!”
The cloak felt horrible to the touch, but Hildegarde doggedly hung on. “No, Princess Jenna, you mustn’t go. It’s too risky. I’ll go. They’ll be in Sarah’s sitting room, yes?”
Jenna nodded. “Yes, but—”
“I’ll get them out of the window.” Hildegarde glanced at Marcia, calculating how long it would take to get to Sarah’s sitting room. “Give me . . . count me to a hundred and then do it. Okay?”
Marcia looked up at the landing. A wall of darkness now blocked any view of the corridors. She shook her head. “Seventy-five.”
Hildegarde gulped. “Okay. Seventy-five.” And she was gone.
“One,” began Marcia. “Two, three, four . . .” She signed to Beetle and Jenna to leave. Jenna shook her head.
Beetle took Jenna’s arm. “You must leave,” he said. “Your parents would not want you to stay. Hildegarde will get them out.”
“No. I can’t go without Mum and Dad.”
“Jenna, you have to. You are the Princess. You must be safe.”
“I’m sick of being safe,” she hissed.
But Beetle backed out of the Palace doors, taking Jenna with him. Once outside he took a small, fat tube from his pocket. “I’ve got the Flare,” he called to Marcia.
Marcia gave him a thumbs-up. “Thirty-five, thirty-six . . .”
“What Flare?” asked Jenna.
“To Activate the Cordon. Just in case.”
“In case what?”
“Well, in case the Quarantine doesn’t work. In case something escapes.”
“Like Mum and Dad, you mean?” Jenna said, wrenching her arm from Beetle’s grasp.
“No. In case something Darke escapes.”
But Jenna was not there to hear. Witch cloak flying, she was racing off along the small path that ran around to the back of the Palace. Beetle sighed. He wished Jenna would take off the witch cloak. She didn’t seem like Jenna anymore.
Feeling wretched, Beetle waited between the two burning torches on either side of the bridge. Through the open Palace doors he saw the pile of abandoned birthday presents, the discarded streamers, the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner, all looking oddly out of place now as Marcia—purple robed and intense—paced back and forth, continuing her count. Beetle saw the last rushlight at the top of the stairs flicker and go out and the wall of Darkenesse—not nighttime darkness but something thicker, more solid—begin to move down toward the pacing figure below.
Beetle watched Marcia like a hawk, terrified of missing her signal. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard was backing toward the door now. She was still counting, going on for as long as she dared in order to give Hildegarde the best possible chance.
“One hundred and four, one hundred and five . . .”
With every step backwards that Marcia took, the Darkenesse advanced. It reminded Beetle of a giant cider press he had once visited where you could stand inside and watch the pressing plate move down toward you. It had terrified Beetle at the time—and now it terrified him all over again.
The descending roof of Darkenesse reached the chandelier, and suddenly all the candles sputtered out. Beetle saw Marcia raise her right hand. He pushed the Ignite pin into the side of the Flare, held the Flare at arm’s length and was blown off his feet by the sudden blast of light that shot into the sky. A gasp of “oohs” came from the crowd beyond, but from the Cordon came the quieter sound of a sustained humming, as though the Palace were surrounded by a gigantic swarm of bees. The Cordon was now Active. Marcia leaped outside, slammed the thick wooden doors shut, laid a hand on each door and began the Quarantine.
The Magyk was so strong that even Beetle—who was not a very Magykal person—could see the purple shimmering haze of Magyk playing around the doors and, as sound of the humming from the huge circle of Wizards, Apprentices and scribes filled the air, the Magyk spread out from the doors, creeping across the darkened windows of the Palace,