Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [92]
Spit Fyre had watched with interest as his Pilot and Navigator so very effectively immobilized his attackers. There is a widespread theory that dragons do not feel gratitude, but this is not true—they just don’t show it in a way that people recognize. Spit Fyre lumbered obediently out of the Dragon House. He carefully avoided treading on any toes and refrained from snorting in Septimus’s face—this was dragon gratitude at its fullest.
Septimus stood close to the comforting bulk of Spit Fyre and scanned the eerily purple Dragon Field.
“Do you think there are more Things?” Jenna whispered, looking uneasily behind her.
“I dunno, Jen,” muttered Septimus. “They could be anywhere . . . everywhere. Who can tell?”
“Not everywhere, Sep. There’s one place they can’t go.” Jenna pointed skyward.
Septimus grinned. “Come on, Spit Fyre,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 31
Horse Stuff
The Gringe family was upstairs in the gatehouse. They had come home early from their traditional Longest Night wander down Wizard Way because Mrs. Gringe had felt ignored by Rupert—who had been talking to Nicko for much of the time—and had demanded to go home. Consequently they had missed the Raising of the Safety Curtain, although it would have meant little to them as the Gringes treated Magyk with great suspicion.
Mrs. Gringe was sitting in her chair, unraveling a knitted sock with quick, irritable movements, while Gringe was poking at the small log fire that they allowed themselves on the Longest Night. The chimney was cold and choked with soot, and the fire was refusing to draw and was filling the room with smoke.
Rupert Gringe, his filial duty of the Wizard Way promenade done for another year, stood hovering by the door, anxious to be away. He had a new girlfriend—the skipper of one of the Port barges—and he wanted to be there to meet her when the late-night barge arrived at the boatyard.
Beside Rupert stood Nicko Heap, equally anxious to be gone. Nicko had come along because Rupert had asked him. “There’s not so much shouting if someone else is there,” Rupert had said. But that was not the only reason Nicko had come. The truth was, he was feeling unsettled. Snorri and her mother had taken their boat, the Alfrún, on a trip to the Port and “only a little way out to sea, Nicko. We’ll be back in a few days,” Snorri had promised. When he had asked her why, Snorri had been evasive. But Nicko knew why—they were testing the Alfrún’s seaworthiness. He knew that Snorri’s mother wanted Snorri and the Alfrún to come home with her, and something told Nicko that Snorri wanted that too. And when Nicko thought about it—which he tried not to—he felt a sense of freedom at the thought of Snorri going away. But it was tinged with sadness, and after Lucy’s excited talk of weddings, Nicko longed to get back to the boatyard. At least you knew where you were with boats, he thought.
Lucy smiled at her brother trying to edge out the door. She knew exactly how he felt. Tomorrow she would be away on the early morning Port barge and she couldn’t wait.
“You definitely booked a horse space, Rupe?” she asked him, not for the first time.
Rupert looked exasperated. “Yes, Luce. I told you. The early morning barge has two horse berths and Thunder’s got one. For sure. Maggie said.”
“Maggie?” asked his mother, looking up from her sock unravelling, suddenly alert.
“The skipper, Mother,” Rupert said quickly.
It was not lost on Mrs. Gringe that Rupert had gone bright pink, his face clashing with his spiky, carrot-colored hair. “Oh. She’s a skipper, is she?” Mrs. Gringe tugged at a knot, determined to unpick it. “Funny job for a girl, that.”
Rupert was old enough now not rise to the bait. He ignored his mother’s comments and continued his conversation with Lucy. “Come down to the boatyard early tomorrow morning, Luce. About six. We’ll—I mean I’ll help you load him before the passengers arrive.”
Lucy smiled at