Septimus Heap, Book One: Magyk

by Angie Sage

  Sometime after the Water Nixies had dropped off, a Marsh Moaner appeared. Although it was only a small wisp of white mist, it gave off a dank smell that reminded the Apprentice of the burrow in DomDaniel’s hideout. The Marsh Moaner sat itself down behind the Apprentice and started tunelessly singing the most mournful and irritating song the Apprentice had ever heard. The tune whirled around and around inside his head—“Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-dooooooooo…Weerrghh-derrwaaaah-dooooooooo…Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-dooooooooo…”—until the Apprentice felt he might go mad.

  He tried to bat the Moaner away with his paddle, but it went straight through the wailing scrap of mist, unbalanced the canoe and nearly sent the Apprentice tumbling out into the dark water. And still the awful tune went on, a little mockingly now that the Moaner knew it had the Apprentice’s attention: “Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-dooooooooo…Weerrghh-derr-waaaah-doooooooo…oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…”

  “Stop it!” yelled the Apprentice, unable to stand the noise a moment longer. He stuffed his fingers into his ears and started singing in a voice loud enough to shut out the ghastly tune.

  “I’m not listening, I’m not listening, I’m not listening,” the Apprentice chanted at the top of his lungs while the triumphant Moaner swirled around the canoe, pleased with its night’s work. It usually took the Marsh Moaner much longer to reduce a Young One to a gibbering wreck, but tonight it had struck lucky. Mission completed, the Marsh Moaner flattened out into a thin sheet of mist and wafted off to spend the rest of the night contentedly hanging above its favorite bog.

  The Apprentice paddled doggedly on, no longer caring about the succession of Marsh Wraiths, Bogle Bugs and a very tempting array of Marshfire that danced about his canoe for hours. By then the Apprentice did not mind what anything did, as long as it didn’t sing.

  As the sun rose over the far reaches of the Marram Marshes, the Apprentice realized he had become hopelessly lost. He was in the middle of a featureless expanse of marshland that all looked the same to him. He paddled wearily onward, not knowing what else to do, and it was midday before he reached a wide, straight stretch of water that looked as though it actually went somewhere, rather than petering out into yet another soggy morass. Exhausted, the Apprentice turned into what was the upper reaches of the Deppen Ditch and slowly headed toward the river. His discovery of the giant Marsh Python, lurking at the bottom of the Ditch and trying to straighten itself out, hardly even bothered the Apprentice. He was far too tired to care. He was also very determined. He had an appointment with DomDaniel, and this time he wasn’t going to mess things up. Very soon the Queenling would be sorry. They would all be sorry. Particularly the duck.

  That morning, back at the cottage, no one could believe that the Apprentice had managed to squeeze out through the cat tunnel. “I’d have thought his head was too big to fit through it,” Jenna said scornfully.

  Nicko went out to search the island, but he was soon back again. “The Hunter’s canoe is gone,” he said, “and that was a fast boat. He’ll be far away by now.”

  “We’ve got to stop him,” said Boy 412, who knew only too well just how dangerous a boy like the Apprentice could be, “before he tells anyone where we are, which he will do as soon as he can.”

  And so Jenna, Nicko and Boy 412 took Muriel Two and set off in pursuit of the Apprentice. As the pale spring sun rose over the Marram Marshes, sending long glancing shadows across the mires and bogs, the ungainly Muriel Two took them through the maze of cuts and ditches. She traveled slow and steady, far too slow for Nicko, who knew how quickly the Hunter’s canoe must have covered the same distance. Nicko kept a watchful eye out for any sign of the sleek black canoe, half expecting to see it upturned in a Brownie Quake Ooze or drifting empty along a ditch, but to his disappointment he saw nothing apart from a long black log that only momentarily raised his hopes.

  They stopped for a while to eat some goat cheese and sardine sandwiches beside the Marsh Moaners’ bog. But they were left in peace as the Moaners were long gone, evaporated in the warmth of the rising sun.

  It was early afternoon and a gray drizzle had set in when, at last, they paddled into the Deppen Ditch. The Marsh Python lay dozing in the mud, half covered with the sluggish water of the recently turned incoming tide. It ignored Muriel Two, much to the occupants’ relief, and lay waiting for the fresh influx of fish that the rising tide would bring. The tide was very low, and the canoe sat well below the steep banks that rose up on either side of them, so it was not until they rounded the very last bend of the Deppen Ditch that Jenna, Nicko and Boy 412 saw what was waiting for them.

  The Vengeance.

  40

  THE MEETING

  A shocked silence fell in the Muriel Two canoe.

  Just a short paddle away, the Vengeance lay quietly at anchor in the early afternoon drizzle, still and steady in the middle of the river’s deepwater channel. The massive black ship was a striking sight: its bow rose up like the steep side of a cliff, and with its tattered black sails furled, its two tall masts stood out like black bones against the overcast sky. An oppressive silence surrounded the ship in the gray light. No seagulls dared wheel around hoping for scraps. Small boats using the river saw the ship and hurried quietly along the shallow waters by the riverbank, more willing to risk running aground than to go near the notorious Vengeance. A heavy black cloud had formed above the masts, casting a dark shadow over the entire ship, and from the stern a blood-red flag with a line of three black stars fluttered ominously.

  Nicko did not need the flag to tell him whose ship it was. No other ship had ever been painted with the strong black tar that DomDaniel used, and no other ship could have been surrounded by such a malevolent atmosphere. He gestured frantically to Jenna and Boy 412 to paddle backward, and a moment later Muriel Two was safely hidden behind the last bend of Deppen Ditch.

  “What is it?” whispered Jenna.

  “It’s the Vengeance,” whispered Nicko. “DomDaniel’s ship. I reckon it’s waiting for the Apprentice. I bet that’s where the little toad has gone. Pass me the eyeglass, Jen.”

  Nicko put the telescope to his eye and saw exactly what he had feared. There in the deep shadows cast by the steep black sides of the hull was the Hunter’s canoe. It lay bobbing in the water, empty and dwarfed by the bulk of the Vengeance, tied to the foot of a long rope ladder that led up to the ship’s deck.

  The Apprentice had kept his appointment.

  “It’s too late,” said Nicko. “He’s there. Oh, yuck, what’s that? Oh, disgusting. That Thing’s just slipped out from inside the canoe. It’s so slimy. But it can certainly get up a rope ladder. It’s like some gruesome monkey.” Nicko shuddered.

  “Can you see the Apprentice?” whispered Jenna.

  Nicko swept the eyeglass up the rope ladder. He nodded. Sure enough, the Apprentice had almost reached the top, but he had stopped and was staring down in horror at the rapidly climbing Thing. In a matter of moments the Magog had reached the Apprentice and scuttled over him, leaving a trail of vivid yellow slime across the back of his robes. The Apprentice seemed to falter for a moment and almost loosen his grip on the ladder, but he struggled up the last few rungs and collapsed on the deck, where he lay unnoticed for some time.

  Serves him right, thought Nicko.

  They decided to take a closer look at the Vengeance on foot. They tied Muriel Two to a rock and walked along to the beach where they had had the midnight picnic the night of their escape from the Castle. As they rounded the bend Jenna got a shock. Someone was already there. She stopped dead and ducked back behind an old tree trunk. Boy 412 and Nicko bumped into her.

  “What is it?” whispered Nicko.

  “There’s someone on the beach,” whispered Jenna. “Maybe it’s someone from the ship. Keeping guard.”

  Nicko peered around the tree trunk.

  “It’s not someone from the ship.” He smiled.

  “How do you know?” asked Jenna. “It could be.”

  “Because it’s
Alther.”

  Alther Mella was sitting on the beach, staring mournfully out into the drizzle. He had been there for days, hoping that someone from Keeper’s Cottage would turn up. He needed to talk to them urgently.

  “Alther?” whispered Jenna.

  “Princess!” Alther’s careworn face lit up. He wafted over to Jenna and enfolded her in a warm hug. “Well, I do believe you’ve grown since I last saw you.”

  Jenna put her fingers to her lips. “Shhh, they might hear us, Alther,” she said.

  Alther looked surprised. He wasn’t used to Jenna telling him what to do.

  “They can’t hear me.” He chuckled. “Not unless I want them to. And they can’t hear you either—I’ve put up a Scream Screen. They won’t hear a thing.”

  “Oh, Alther,” said Jenna. “It is so lovely to see you. Isn’t it, Nicko?”

  Nicko had a big grin on his face. “It’s great,” he said.

  Alther gave Boy 412 a quizzical look. “Here’s someone else who’s grown too.” He smiled. “Those Young Army lads are always so painfully thin. It’s nice to see you’ve filled out a bit.”

  Boy 412 blushed.

  “He’s nice now too, Uncle Alther,” Jenna told the ghost.

  “I expect he was always nice, Princess,” said Alther. “But you’re not allowed to be nice in the Young Army. It’s forbidden.”

  He smiled at Boy 412.

  Boy 412 smiled shyly back.

  They sat on the drizzly beach, just out of sight of the Vengeance.

  “How’s Mum and Dad?” asked Nicko.

  “And Simon?” asked Jenna. “What about Simon?”

  “Ah, Simon,” said Alther. “Simon had deliberately slipped away from Sarah in the Forest. Seems he and Lucy Gringe had planned to secretly get married.”

  “What?” said Nicko. “Simon got married?”

  “No. Gringe found out and shopped him to the Custodian Guards.”

  “Oh, no!” gasped Jenna and Nicko.

  “Oh, don’t worry yourselves about Simon,” said Alther, strangely unsympathetic. “How he managed to spend all that time in the custody of the Supreme Custodian and come out looking like he’d had a holiday, I don’t know. Although I have my suspicions.”

  “How do you mean, Uncle Alther?” asked Jenna.

  “Oh, it’s probably nothing, Princess.” Alther seemed unwilling to say any more about Simon.

  There was something Boy 412 wanted to ask but it felt odd talking to a ghost. But he had to ask, so he plucked up his courage and said, “Er, excuse me, but what’s happened to Marcia? Is she all right?”

  Alther sighed. “No,” he said.

  “No?” three voices asked at once.

  “She was set up,” Alther frowned. “Set up by the Supreme Custodian and the Rat Office. He’s put his own rats in. Or rather DomDaniel’s rats. And a vicious lot they are too. They used to run the spy network back at DomDaniel’s place in the Badlands. They’ve got a very nasty reputation. Came in with the plague rats hundreds of years ago. Not nice.”

  “You mean our Message Rat was one of them?” asked Jenna, thinking of how she had rather liked him.

  “No, no. He got marched off by the Rat Office heavies. He’s disappeared. Poor rat. I wouldn’t give much for his chances,” said Alther.

  “Oh. That’s awful,” said Jenna.

  “And the message for Marcia wasn’t from Silas either,” said Alther.

  “I didn’t think it was,” said Nicko.

  “It was from the Supreme Custodian,” Alther said. “So when Marcia turned up at the Palace Gate to meet Silas, the Custodian Guards were waiting for her. Of course that wouldn’t have been a problem for Marcia if she had got her Midnight Minutes right, but her timepiece was twenty minutes slow. And she’d given away her KeepSafe. It’s a bad business. DomDaniel has taken the Amulet, so I am afraid he’s now…the ExtraOrdinary Wizard.”

  Jenna and Nicko were speechless. This was worse than anything they had feared.

  “Excuse me,” ventured Boy 412, who felt terrible. It was his fault. If he had been her Apprentice then he could have helped her. This never would have happened. “Marcia is still…alive, isn’t she?”

  Alther looked at Boy 412. His faded green eyes had a kindly expression as, using his unsettling habit of reading people’s minds, he said, “You couldn’t have done anything, lad. They would have got you too. She was in Dungeon Number One, but now—”

  Boy 412 put his head in his hands in despair. He knew all about Dungeon Number One.

  Alther put a ghostly arm around his shoulder. “Don’t fret now,” he told him. “I was with her for most of the time and she was doing all right. Kept going pretty well, I thought. All things considered. A few days ago I just popped out to check on various little…projects I have going on in DomDaniel’s rooms at the Tower. When I got back to the dungeon she was gone. I’ve looked everywhere I can. I even have some of the Ancients looking. You know, the really old ghosts. But they’re very faded and easily confused. Most of them don’t know their way around the Castle very well anymore—they come up against a new wall or staircase and they’re stuck. They can’t work it out. I had to go and get one out of the kitchen midden yesterday. Apparently it used to be the Wizard’s refectory. About five hundred years ago. Frankly the Ancients, sweet as they are, are more trouble than they are worth.” Alther sighed. “Although I do wonder if…”

  “If what?” asked Jenna.

  “If she might be on the Vengeance. Unfortunately I can’t get on the wretched ship to find out.”

  Alther was cross with himself. He would now advise any ExtraOrdinary Wizard to go to as many places as they could in their lifetime so that as a ghost they were not as thwarted as he had been. But it was too late for Alther to change what he had done while he was alive; he had to make the best of it now.

  At least, when he was first appointed Apprentice, DomDaniel had insisted on taking Alther on a long and very unpleasant tour of the deepest dungeons. At the time Alther had never dreamed that one day he might come to be glad of it, but if only he had accepted an invitation to the launching party on the Vengeance…Alther remembered how, as one of some promising young potential Apprentices, he had been invited to a party on board DomDaniel’s boat. Alther had turned down the invitation on account of the fact it was Alice Nettles’s birthday. No women were allowed on the ship, and Alther was certainly not going to leave Alice alone on her birthday. At the party, the potential Apprentices had run riot and caused a great deal of damage to the ship, thus ensuring that they had no hope of being offered as much as a cleaning job with the ExtraOrdinary Wizard. Not long afterward Alther was offered the ExtraOrdinary Wizard Apprenticeship. Alther had never got the chance to visit the ship again. After the disastrous party, DomDaniel took her up to Bleak Creek for a refit. Bleak Creek was an eerie anchorage full of abandoned and rotting ships. The Necromancer had liked it so much that he left his ship there and visited every year for his summer holiday.

  The subdued group sat on the damp beach. They gloomily ate the last of the damp goat cheese and sardine sandwiches and drank the dregs from the flask of beetroot and carrot cordial.

  “There are some times,” said Alther reflectively, “when I really miss not being able to eat anymore…”

  “But this isn’t one of them?” Jenna finished for him.

  “Spot on, Princess.”

  Jenna fished Petroc Trelawney out of her pocket and offered him a sticky mix of squashed sardine and goat cheese. Petroc opened his eyes and looked at the offering. The pet rock was surprised. This was the kind of food he usually got from Boy 412; Jenna always gave him biscuits. But he ate it anyway, apart from a piece of goat cheese that stuck to his head and then later to the inside of Jenna’s pocket.

  When they had finished chewing the last of the soggy sandwiches, Alther said seriously, “Now, down to business.”

  Three worried faces looked at the ghost.

  “Listen to me, all of you. You must go straight
back to Keeper’s Cottage. I want you to tell Zelda to take you all to the Port first thing tomorrow morning. Alice—she is Chief Customs Officer down there now—is finding you a ship. You are to go to the Far Countries while I try and sort things out here.”

  “But—” gasped Jenna, Nicko and Boy 412.

  Alther ignored their protest.

  “I will meet you all at the Blue Anchor Tavern on the Harbor tomorrow morning. You must be there. Your mother and father are coming too, along with Simon. They are on their way down the river in my old boat, Molly. I am afraid that Sam, Erik and Edd and Jo-Jo have refused to leave the Forest—they have gone quite wild, but Morwenna will keep an eye on them.”

  There was an unhappy silence. No one liked what Alther had said.

  “That’s running away,” Jenna said quietly. “We want to stay. And fight.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” sighed Alther. “It is just what your mother would have said. But you must go now.”

  Nicko stood up.

  “All right,” he said reluctantly. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the Port.”

  “Good,” said Alther. “Now, be careful and I’ll see you all tomorrow.” He floated up and watched the three of them trail disconsolately back to the Muriel Two. Alther stayed watching until he was satisfied that they were making good progress along the Deppen Ditch and then he sped off along the river, flying low and fast, off to join Molly. Soon he was just a small speck in the distance.