Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [94]
“Mmm, thank you, Stanley,” said Lucy, taking it carefully between finger and thumb. “Now, please, tell me the message.”
With one hand holding on to Thunder’s coarse black mane for support, Stanley stood up and put on his official message delivering voice.
“No message received. Recipient marked as gone away.”
“Gone away? What do you mean, gone away?”
“Gone away. As in, not present to receive message.”
“Well, he was probably out doing something. Didn’t you wait? I paid extra for that, Stanley, you know I did.” Lucy sounded annoyed.
Stanley was peeved. “I waited as agreed,” he said. “And then, seeing as it was you, I went to the trouble of asking around, which was when I discovered that there was no point waiting any longer. I only just got the last barge home, actually.”
“What do you mean, no point waiting any longer?” asked Lucy.
“Simon Heap is not expected to return, so his domestics told me.”
“Domestics—what domestics? Simon doesn’t have any cleaners,” Lucy said snappily.
“Domestics as in the rats that live in his room.”
“Simon doesn’t have rats in his room,” said Lucy, slightly affronted.
Stanley chuckled. “Of course he has rats. Everyone has rats. He has—or had—six families under his floor. But not anymore. They left when something rather nasty turned up and took him away. It was sheer luck I bumped into them. They were looking for another place on the quayside but it’s not easy; very desirable properties there are already stuffed to the brim with rats, you wouldn’t believe how many—”
“Something nasty took him away?” Lucy was aghast. “Stanley, whatever do you mean?”
The rat shrugged. “I don’t know. Look, I must go home and see what my brood are doing. I’ve been out all day. Goodness knows what state the place will be in.” Stanley went to jump down but Lucy grabbed hold of his tail. Stanley looked shocked. “Don’t do that. It’s extremely bad manners.”
“I don’t care,” Lucy told him. “You’re not going until you’ve told me exactly what you heard about Simon.”
Stanley was saved from answering by a sudden gust of wind, which blew the stable door wide open.
Thunder raised his head and sniffed the air. He pawed the ground restlessly and Lucy began to feel slightly unsafe—there was something Magykal about Thunder and he was a little scary. Thunder had been Simon’s faithful horse through his master’s Darkest moments and there was an indissoluble connection between them. And now Thunder Knew his master was near. And where his master was, Thunder must be.
And so Thunder went. He threw his head back, whinnied and was out the stable door, his hooves slipping on the snowy cobbles as he cantered out into the night. Paying Lucy no more attention than if she had been a gnat on his back, the horse galloped off to the place where he Knew his master awaited him.
The clattering of Thunder’s hooves was the only sound to disturb the warren of deserted streets that led from the North Gate gatehouse to Wizard Way—apart from some extremely piercing screams.
“Stop! Stop, you stupid horse!”
Chapter 32
Day of Recognition
After Spit Fyre had taken off from the Dragon Field, Septimus had flown him away from the Palace and out above the river. They had wheeled to the right just before the jagged crag of Raven’s rock and were now flying above the Moat. Septimus craned over Spit Fyre’s wide, muscled neck and stared down at the Castle below on his right-hand side. He gasped. It looked as though someone had dropped a large pool of ink onto the Palace and Wizard Way. The dark irregular shape was, even as he watched, moving outward as yet more candles and torches were extinguished.
Jenna was sitting in her usual Navigator space, in the dip between the dragon’s shoulders, just behind Septimus.
“It’s so dark down there!” she shouted above the noise of Spit Fyre’s wings.
Septimus searched for a sign of Marcia’s Safety Curtain. He thought that maybe, just possibly, he could see a faint purple