by Angie Sage
Chapter 16 The Pigeon Post Office
T he Pigeon Post Office was a long, low stone building that formed the boundary between Harbors Twelve and Thirteen. On the ground floor was the actual Post Office and above it were the pigeon lofts, home to hundreds of carrier pigeons. Two large lamps - with pigeons on the top - flanked the wide double doors that led into the office itself. Its long white roof shone in the light of the newly lit lamps and, as he and Beetle got closer, Septimus realized that the whiteness of the roof was because it was thick with pigeon droppings. It did not smell great. They ducked inside and only just avoided what was known in the Trading Post as "pigeon shoulder" (considered marginally better than "pigeon head").
The Post Office was quietly busy. A line of businesslike white lamps hissed softly overhead, reminding Beetle of Ephaniah Grebe's basement. Along the length of the office were seven counters with signs reading SEND, RECEIVE, LATE, LOST, FOUND, SPOILED and COMPLAINTS, all of which had one or two people waiting - apart from COMPLAINTS, which had a long line.
Septimus and Beetle made their way to SEND. They waited patiently behind a young sailor, who was soon done, and less patiently behind an elderly man, who spent a long time writing his message and then argued at length over the cost. He eventually wandered off grumbling and joined the line at COMPLAINTS.
At last they stepped forward to the counter. Wordlessly the tight-lipped clerk - a gray and dusty man with what looked suspiciously like a bad case of pigeon head - handed them a form and a pencil. Beetle made a request and then, very carefully, Septimus filled in the form:
RECIPIENT: Marcia Overstrand, ExtraOrdinary Wizard
ADDRESS: Top floor, the Wizard Tower, the Castle, the Small Wet Country across the Sea
SENDER: Septimus Heap
ADDRESS OF SENDER: The Cerys, Berth 5, Harbor Twelve, The Trading Post MESSAGE (one letter, space or punctuation mark only in each square of grid): DEAR MARCIA. ARRIVED SAFELY. EVERYONE HERE. ALL WELL BUT RETURN
DELAYED. SPIT FYRE VERY TIRED. WE ARE ON MILO'S SHIP. WE HAVE NOT LEFT YET
BUT WILL ASAP. LOVE FROM YOUR SENIOR APPRENTICE, SEPTIMUS XXX. PS PLEASE
TELL MRS BEETLE THAT BEETLE IS FINE
SERVICE REQUIRED (SELECT ONE ONLY):
AT OUR CONVENIENCE
EXPRESS
He circled EXPRESS and handed in the form.
The clerk checked the form and frowned. He stabbed a grumpy finger at the box that read SENDER. Septimus had signed his name with his usual illegible flourish. "What's that?" he asked.
"My name," replied Septimus.
The clerk sighed. "Well, that's a start, I suppose. So where are the actual letters, then?"
"Do you want me to write it again?" asked Septimus, trying to keep his patience.
"I'll do it," snapped the clerk.
"Okay. "
"So what is it?"
"What is what?"
The clerk sighed once more and said, very slowly, "Your name, sonny. What is it? I need to know so that I can write it down, see?"
Septimus was not surprised that there was a long line at the COMPLAINTS counter.
"Septimus Heap," he said.
Laboriously the clerk got out a glue pot and stuck a piece of paper on top of the offending signature. He got Septimus to spell out his name three times and made a good deal of fuss writing it down. At last he finished and tossed the message into a box marked Sealing and Dispatch. A general sigh of relief accompanied Septimus paying the postage and at last leaving the counter.
"Hey, you! Septimus Heap!" a voice called out. Septimus spun around and saw the clerk at the RECEIVE counter beckoning to him. "I got a message for you. "
"Me?" Septimus went up to the counter.
The clerk at the RECEIVE counter, a former sea captain with a bushy white beard, was a distinct improvement on the clerk at the SEND counter. He smiled. "You are Septimus Heap, aren't you?"
Septimus nodded, puzzled. "Yes, but I'm not expecting any messages. "
"Well, ain't it your lucky day, then?" said the clerk, and handed Septimus a small envelope with his name printed on it in the distinctive Pigeon Post type. "Sign 'ere please," said the clerk, and pushed a piece of paper across to Septimus. Somewhat self-consciously, Septimus signed his name and pushed the paper back to the clerk, who made no comment.
"Thank you," said Septimus.
"You're welcome," said the clerk with a smile. "We're open until midnight if you want to send a reply. Next please. "
Septimus and Beetle stopped under a lantern a safe distance away from the Pigeon Post Office. After glancing up to check that there were no pigeons roosting above, Septimus opened the envelope, which was stamped in red with the words PPO NON
STANDARD MESSAGE SAFETY ENVELOPE. He drew out a scrappy piece of paper and, as he read, a look of bafflement spread across his face.
"What does it say?" asked Beetle.
"I don't understand. . . it's a recipe for cabbage soup. "
"Turn it over," said Beetle. "There's writing on the other side. "
"Oh. Oh. . . it's from Aunt Zelda. But how does she know. . . "
"What does she say?"
"'Dear Septimus, enclosed are the instructions for your SafeCharm. I forgot to give them to Barney Pot. Do not hesitate to use it if you need to. It will be loyal and true. Best love, Aunt Zelda xxx. ' Oh bother. Bother, bother, bother. "
"Bother what, Sep?" asked Beetle.
"The SafeCharm. A little kid called Barney Pot tried to give it to me, but I wouldn't take it. There was no way I was going to take a so-called SafeCharm from a stranger, not after taking the Questing Stone by mistake from someone I thought I actually knew. "
"But it wasn't from a stranger, it was from Aunt Zelda," Beetle observed irritatingly.
"I know that now, Beetle," Septimus snapped. "But I didn't know that then. Barney didn't say it was from Aunt Zelda; he just said it was from a lady. Could have been anyone. "
"Oh. Well, I'm sure it doesn't matter, Sep. I don't see that you'll need it. "
"Yeah, I s'pose. . . but Aunt Zelda obviously thought I did need it. Dunno why. "
Beetle was silent as they negotiated their way back to the Cerys. As they neared the tall ship, which was now ablaze with lanterns, he said, "So what exactly are these instructions, Sep?"
Septimus shrugged. "What does it matter? I haven't got the SafeCharm anyway. "
Beetle - who was fascinated by Charms of all descriptions and had hoped one day to be the Charm Specialist at the Manuscriptorium - thought it did matter. At his insistence, Septimus unfolded another piece of paper covered in Aunt Zelda's most careful writing - the kind that she had used for Wolf Boy's instructions. As Septimus read it his expression changed to one of amazement.
"What does it say, Sep?" asked Beetle impatiently.
"Oh, crumbs. . . it says, 'Septimus, use this well and it will be your loyal servant for evermore. Instructions as follows:
1. Unseal bottle in well-ventilated area, preferably large open space. 2. If unsealing outside, ensure area is sheltered from the wind. 3. Once jinnee is out of - '"
"Jinnee - ohmygoodness!" gasped Beetle. "She's gone and sent you a live SafeCharm. I don't believe it. "
Septimus was silent. He read the rest of the instructions to himself with a horrible feeling of regret.
"A jinnee - I can't believe you turned that down," Beetle was saying. "Oh, wow, what an opportunity. "
"Well, it's too late now," snapped Septimus. He refolded the instructions and put them carefully into his Apprentice belt.
Beetle carried on regardless. "I've always thought how brilliant it would be to have a jinnee at your beck and call," he said. "And no one has them anymore, Sep, they are so incredibly rare. Most of 'em have been let out and no one knows how to put 'em back in nowadays - except other jinn, of course, and they're not saying. Phew. . . fancy passing up a chance for that. "
Septimus had had enough
. He turned on Beetle. "Look, just shut up about it, will you, Beetle? Okay, I didn't take it and, okay, maybe that was stupid, but I didn't and that is the end of it. "
"Hey, calm down, Sep. I never said it was stupid. But look. . . maybe. . . "
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe you should send Aunt Zelda a message to say you never got it. She ought to get it back from Barney as soon as she can. I mean, supposing he opens it?" Septimus shrugged irritably.
"It's important, Sep," Beetle persisted. "If Aunt Zelda meant it for you, she would have Awakened it by telling it a whole load of stuff about you - all about your family, about how you look, how wonderful you are and how the jinnee would be privileged to serve you for the rest of its days blah blah blah. I've seen a written copy of an Awakening and it's like a real legal contract, and if the other half of the contract isn't there then the jinnee will consider itself Released. So if this kid Barney Pot gets curious and lets the jinnee out, there's going to be big trouble. The jinnee will be free to cause havoc - and you can bet it will, too. The only person who can have any hope of controlling it is the one who Awakened it. "
"Aunt Zelda," said Septimus.
"Yep. You have to tell her, Sep. "
Septimus and Beetle had reached the Cerys. The immaculately uniformed sailor bowed as Septimus stepped onto the gangplank. The sailor bowed once more as he stepped straight off.
"Okay. " Septimus sighed. "You're right. We'll go send a message. And if that clerk tries to be funny again I shall - "
Beetle put his arm in Septimus's. "Yeah," he said. "I shall too. "
