Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [9]
“Jen, please—leave me alone. I have stuff to do and I’m going now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that Septimus strode off, and this time Jenna let him go.
Jenna walked slowly back across the grass, her feet crunching through a dusting of frost, and fought off tears—Septimus hadn’t even wished her “happy birthday.” As she wandered miserably into the Palace, Jenna could not get him out of her mind. Recently she had begun to feel like an outsider in his life—an annoying outsider from whom secrets had to be kept. In order to understand more about what Septimus was doing, Jenna had begun to ask Silas questions about his own Apprenticeship to Alther long ago, and she did not always like what she heard.
Jenna did not feel like going back to the happy group clustered around Sarah’s sitting room fire. She took a lighted candle from one of the hall tables and made her way up the wide flight of carved oak stairs that led from the Palace entrance hall to the first floor. She walked slowly along the corridor, her footsteps muffled on the threadbare carpet, nodding to the assorted ghosts who always Appeared when they saw the Princess. Ignoring the short, wide passageway that led to her bedroom, Jenna decided to take one more look at the attic stairs—Septimus had made her wonder if she was indeed worrying about nothing.
A rushlight burned steadily at the foot of the stairs, for which Jenna was grateful—because looking up the flight of bare, worn wooden stairs that disappeared into the darkness gave her the creeps. Telling herself that Septimus probably was right and there was nothing at all to worry about, Jenna began to climb the stairs. She told herself that if she got to the top and everything was all right, she would forget all about it, but when Jenna was one step below the top she stopped. In front of her was a deep darkness that seemed to move and shift as she looked at it. It felt as if it were alive. Jenna was confused—part of her was terrified and yet another part of her suddenly felt elated. She had the strangest feeling that if only she stepped up into the darkness, she would see everything she had ever wanted to see, even her real mother, Queen Cerys. And as she thought about meeting her mother, the feeling of terror began to fade and Jenna longed to step into the dark, into the best place to be in the whole world—the place she had always been searching for.
Suddenly Jenna felt a tap on her shoulder. She wheeled around and saw the ghost of the governess who Haunted the Palace looking for two lost princesses staring at her.
“Come away, Esmeralda, come away,” wailed the ghost. “It is Darke in there. Come away . . .” Exhausted by having Caused a tap on Jenna’s shoulder, the ghost of the governess faded away and was not seen for many years hence.
Jenna’s desire to step into the darkness evaporated. She turned and ran, clattering down the stairs two at a time. She did not stop running until she reached the broad, bright corridor that led to her bedroom and saw the friendly figure of Sir Hereward, the ancient ghost who guarded the double doors to her bedroom.
Sir Hereward sprang to attention. “Good evening, Princess,” he said. “Early to bed, I see. A big day tomorrow.” The ghost smiled. “It’s not every day a Princess turns fourteen.”
“No,” said Jenna despondently.
“Ah, the pressure of advancing years already, I see.” Sir Hereward chuckled. “But let me tell you, fourteen is nothing to worry about, Princess. Look at me, I’ve had hundreds of birthdays—lost count of ’em in fact—and I’m fine.”
Jenna could not help but smile. The ghost was anything but fine. Dusty and faded, his armor dented, he was missing an arm, quite a few teeth and—she had recently noticed when he had removed his helmet—his left ear and a fair chunk of the side of his head. Plus, of course, he was dead. But that didn’t seem to worry Sir Hereward. Jenna sternly told herself to stop being so miserable and enjoy life. Septimus would get over whatever it was and things would be fine again. In fact, tomorrow she would go