Septimus Heap, Book Six_ Darke - Angie Sage [95]
At least, Septimus noted with relief, Marcia knew what was happening. The spreading blackness had halted at the wall surrounding the Wizard Tower courtyard and from its boundaries he saw the Living SafeShield begin to grow upward into the night sky, encasing the entire tower in a cone of brilliant indigo and purple lights, the colors of which showed, to Septimus’s knowledgeable eye, that Marcia was in residence. It was a magnificent sight and made him feel proud to be part of the Wizard Tower—although once again unhappy to be outside the Magyk.
They flew slowly along the Moat, keeping the Castle Walls on their right. The Darke Domaine was spreading fast and he knew that nowhere in the Castle would be safe for long. The one beacon of light—the Wizard Tower and his home—was now closed to him and to Jenna. They had a simple choice: leave the Castle and flee to safety or find somewhere within the Castle where they could hide out and keep the Darke at bay.
Jenna tapped him on the shoulder. “Sep, what are you doing? We have to get to the Palace. We have to get Mum out of there!”
They had now reached the other end of the Moat. The One Way Bridge was to their left and in front of them, on the other side of the river, lights ablaze, was the ramshackle shape of the Grateful Turbot Tavern. Septimus contemplated landing there—the lights looked so welcoming—but he needed time to think. He wheeled Spit Fyre around in a tight turn and began to retrace their path.
Septimus flew Spit Fyre slowly so that he could see how far—and how fast—the Darke Domaine was spreading. They flew over the drawbridge, which was raised as it always was at night. The Darkenesse had not yet reached there, although the Gringes’ rather mean single candle in the upstairs window of the gatehouse did not make it easy to tell. But there were other signs that all was still well; Septimus could still see the thin covering of snow on the road reflecting the light from candles in houses set back from the gatehouse. He also saw, as he dipped down for a closer look, a rectangle of lamplight thrown onto the road from an open door at the back of the gatehouse.
Septimus took Spit Fyre down low along the Moat. He was relieved to see that candles were still burning in the windows of the houses that backed onto the Castle walls, as were the lamps in Jannit Maarten’s boatyard and on the newly arrived late-night Port barge, which was just docking. But farther down, the Manuscriptorium boathouse was Darke. Not merely unlit but so dark as to be almost invisible. If Septimus had not known it was there, he would have thought it was an empty space. And yet, strangely, the houses on either side of it were still lit.
What Septimus could not see was that the Darke Domaine had followed Merrin to the Manuscriptorium and had spread through the entire premises, which extended down to the Moat. Merrin intended to make the Manuscriptorium his temporary headquarters until he got into the Wizard Tower. But being in charge was not as much fun as he had expected now that Jillie Djinn was no longer there to intimidate. The empty old place felt rather creepy, especially with the Seal on the Hermetic Chamber glowing eerily through the Darke, behind which—unknown to Merrin—Beetle was frantically searching for the Suspension Charm, which was now languishing in the garbage bin out in the yard along with the rest of the contents of the siege drawer.
With the Paired Code feeling like it was stuck in his throat, Merrin had gone upstairs to Jillie Djinn’s rooms to wash it down with her stash of biscuits and plan his next move. His mouth full of stale biscuit, Merrin stared out of the window and caught a glimpse of Spit Fyre as he flew past. What was he doing up there? Merrin cursed. Stupid Things. They couldn’t even do a simple job like getting rid of a pathetic dragon. Well, he’d show that dragon. He’d get it. Merrin smiled at his dark reflection in the grubby window.