Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [88]
Marcellus stood for a moment and watched something that he had only seen once before, in his first life as the Castle’s greatest Alchemist. He saw the Barricade—a thick slab of ancient pitted metal—silently slice down through the center of the Great Arch, closing the main entrance into the Wizard Tower courtyard. It was, Marcellus knew, the first of many shields that would be sliding into place, readying the Tower for its strongest and most ancient Magyk of defense.
Next came the beginnings of a four-sided Living SafetyShield (this was the strongest SafetyShield possible; it was known as Living because it required the energy of many living presences within it to keep it active. It could also, in extremis, act independently). Like the Barricade, a Living SafetyShield was extremely rare. Marcellus watched it rise slowly from the walls surrounding the Wizard Tower courtyard, a blue shimmering skin that cast its eerie light into Wizard Way.
Satisfied that the Tower would be protected—for a while, at least—Marcellus slipped away, leaving Wizard Way to its fate. With his cloak blending into the shadows, the old Alchemist disappeared into the very narrowest of gaps between two ancient houses. Marcellus walked quickly through what, in his Time, had been known as the Canyons—formed in the earliest days of the Castle when the houses that lay between Wizard Way and the Moat were built. To protect against the spread of fire, houses had been built in blocks of two or three, with a tiny gap left between the blocks—a gap so small that Bertie Bott would not have been able to squeeze in. But Marcellus Pye moved fast through the Canyons like a snake down a pipe, heading for what he guessed was his last chance to find Septimus before the Darkenesse fell.
Chapter 30
In the Dragon House
Jenna walked slowly back along the jetty to the overgrown path at the river’s edge. She saw the purple glow of the Safety Curtain lighting up the sky and guessed it was some kind of Magyk isolating the Palace—and her mother inside it. She stuffed her hands deep into her pockets and the smooth brass of the key that Silas had given her met her hand. Jenna sighed. She did not want to spend the night alone in her old home. She wanted to be with Septimus, but if Septimus was not around, the next best thing was his dragon. She set off along the path beside the river, wading through the long, frosty grass until she reached a tall gate at the end. Nailed onto the gate was a rough, and somewhat charred, wooden sign. It read:
DRAGON FIELD
ENTER ENTIRELY AT OWN RISK
POSITIVELY NO COMPENSATION PAYABLE
FOR ANY EVENTUALITY, FORSEEN OR OTHERWISE.
SINGED: BILLY POT (MR.)
DRAGON KEEPER BY APPOINTMENT
Jenna could not help but smile. The sign actually was singed, so Billy’s spelling was unusually accurate. She opened the gate and stepped inside. On the far side of the field she could see the long, low shape of the Dragon House silhouetted against the purple light. Carefully weaving her way around several suspiciously smelly heaps in the grass, she headed toward the Dragon House. Sometimes talking to a dragon was the only thing that made sense.
Now that Spit Fyre was no longer an unwelcome squatter in the Wizard Tower courtyard but master of his very own field, his Dragon House was left open all night. When Sarah Heap had queried this, Billy Pot had indignantly told her that, “Mr. Spit Fyre is a gentleman, Mistress Heap, and gentlemen are not locked up at night.” The more pressing reason, which Billy had omitted to mention, was that on his very first night in the Dragon House, Spit Fyre had eaten the doors.
And so, as Jenna carefully crossed the field, she saw the dark outline of Spit Fyre’s blunt snout resting on the edge of the ramp that led up to the shed. Jenna drew her witch’s cloak around her and pulled the hood down low on her face, enjoying the feeling it