Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [85]
“I know,” said Beetle.
“You’re a brave young man, Beetle. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Marcia wondered if she’d ever see Beetle again. “Right then. You’d better go in. As soon as you get into the Chamber, sit in the Chief Hermetic Scribe’s seat. It’s in the very center and you’ll be all right there. The Sealing Magyk will be very intense and that isn’t always pleasant.”
“Oh. Right.”
Marcia gave Beetle a strained smile. “I’ll count to twenty-one and then I’ll Activate the Seal. Understood?”
“Yep. I’ll count too. One . . . two . . .”
Beetle was gone. He ran through the narrow stone archway into the darkness of the seven-cornered passageway, and before he had finished counting to ten he was in the brightness of the circular Hermetic Chamber. Feeling as though he shouldn’t, Beetle sat down in the Chief Hermetic Scribe’s seat at the table and, still counting, he watched the archway that he had just run through. The next few seconds were the longest of his life.
The Activating of the Seal began. A hissing sound filled the Chamber, immediately followed by a rush of cold air as the Seal was driven along the seven-cornered passage. Beetle watched in awe as a shining wall of purple Magyk came around the last corner and stopped at the arch that led into the Chamber. The brilliant Magykal light pulsed over the archway and the circular white walls of the Hermetic Chamber intensified it, sending currents of Magyk swirling while Beetle sat in the calm at the very center of it, hardly daring to breathe. After a few minutes he could see that the purple light was beginning to fade, wisps of Magyk were drifting off. They hung in the air, and the bittersweet taste of Magyk caught in Beetle’s throat and made him cough.
As the last vestiges of Magyk disappeared, Beetle understood what it meant to be Sealed in the Chamber. Where the arch had been there was now solid wall, indistinguishable from any other part of the walls that surrounded him. He was entombed. Above his head rose the dome of white stone that formed the ceiling of the Hermetic Chamber and below his feet was the Sealed hatch to the Ice Tunnels.
Remembering what Marcia had told him, Beetle tapped the tiny black circle in the center of the table seven times. A small drawer below the table sprung open. He reached in for the Suspension Charm—and drew out a handful of licorice bootlaces.
Chapter 29
Retreat
The Darke Fog was rolling on. It had reached the door to Larry’s Dead Languages. It seeped in around the edges, finding out the cracks, pouring through the knotholes, needling through the woodworm burrows. It gathered around the piles of translated papers, swirled into the much-repaired vase and snuffed out the candles in the window display that had been lovingly created by Beetle. It rolled on through the shop, up into the gallery, along the landing and up the rickety winding stairs. In his little room deep in the back of his house, Larry awoke. He sat up in bed and pulled the bedclothes around his chin. He stared into the darkness, listening hard. Something was wrong. Larry swung his sticklike legs out of bed and, as his bare feet flinched at the cold touch of the floorboards, he saw black smoke pouring underneath the door. Aghast, he leaped up—the house was on fire!
The smoke advanced toward him; it began to curl around his frozen toes and slowly, as if in a dream, Larry sat down again. A great feeling of contentment overwhelmed him. He was back in his old school, getting the Latin prize for the seventh time, and he had just seen his father in the audience, in the front row, smiling at him. Smiling at him. Larry. Clever Larry . . .
As the Darke Fog layered around him, Larry sank back onto the bed. His breathing slowed and, like a tortoise in the depths of winter, he slipped into a dark and dreamless state somewhere between life and death.
Marcia ushered Jillie Djinn and Marcellus, who had custody of Merrin, out into Wizard Way. She quickly