Read Fyre Page 21


  “What?” gasped Silas.

  Marcia clicked her fingers and pointed at the three Wizards nearest to Silas. “Sassarin Sarson. Bernard Bernard. Miroma Zoom. The Ordinary Wizard Silas Heap will remain in your custody until further notice. Take him to the Stranger Chamber.”

  Silas gasped. This was a terrible insult. “But, Marcia. I’m not a Stranger. I’m Silas. You know me.”

  Marcia rounded on Silas. “I thought I did. Now I am not so sure. Take him away.”

  25

  THE STRANGER CHAMBER

  The Stranger Chamber had been set up some seven hundred years previously after a disastrous rampage through the Wizard Tower by a highly plausible Grula-Grula. It was a large, windowless room on the opposite side of the Great Hall from the duty Door Wizard’s cupboard and was used for visitors who were considered a potential threat to the Tower. Although it showed no sign of being so, it was a completely Shielded and Secure area, and was the one place in the Wizard Tower that was devoid of Magyk. All the protective Magyk surrounding the room—and there was a lot—was sealed away in a second skin buried in the walls.

  Behind its smart blue door, the Stranger Chamber looked comfortable and inviting. It was intended to put visitors at ease and give them no cause to suspect that they were, in fact, imprisoned. It was carpeted with a thick, finely patterned rug laid beside a fake fireplace, which contained a fire basket full of welcoming candles, burning brightly. There was a squashy sofa on the near side of the fireplace with its back to the door, and on the far side facing the door was a comfortable armchair strewn with cushions. Beside it was a table piled high with interesting books to read, a welcoming bowl of exotic fruits, a tin of biscuits and a jug of fresh water. It was to this armchair that the Stranger was always shown. The reason for this was that the Stranger’s chair was placed on top of a large trapdoor over which the rug had been carefully cut out. Beside the entrance to the Chamber next to the Alarm button, and also beside the sofa, were discreetly hidden levers. These, if given a sharp tug, would open the trapdoor and send the Stranger, chair and all, hurtling down a chute. Depending on a master lever set in a small box beside the door, the chute would send the Stranger either on a rapid descent under the Wizard Tower Courtyard and eventually out into the Moat, or straight down into a cell hewn from the bedrock of the Castle.

  No Stranger had ever realized the purpose of the Chamber—until it was too late. They would be offered the very best food that the Wizard Tower could supply and be provided with the companionship of a highly attentive Wizard. If the Stranger was thought to be potentially dangerous or Darke, very often the attendant would be the ExtraOrdinary Wizard herself.

  The true purpose of the Stranger Chamber was a well-kept secret even within the Tower, and many of the junior Wizards assumed it was merely a waiting room. But Silas was an old hand: he had once been the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice. He had even once been Attendant Wizard in the Stranger Chamber to a particularly odd character that Alther Mella had been convinced was a Chimera. Alther had, of course, been right, and Silas had actually got to pull the lever that had sent the Chimera hurtling on her way to the Moat. The Wizard Tower had escaped with no more damage than a few scorch marks to the Stranger Chair inflicted when, at the very last moment, the Chimera realized what Silas was about to do.

  So, as Silas was ushered into the Chamber by his three escorts, he knew that he was no longer trusted in the Wizard Tower. He was, in fact, considered to be no better than a foul-smelling, fire-breathing, malevolent hybrid that wore way too much lipstick. It was utterly humiliating.

  The first thing that struck Silas as he stepped into the Stranger Chamber was its complete lack of Magyk. After so recently rediscovering his love for Magyk after many years, Silas felt its absence all the more keenly. As he walked slowly across the soft patterned rug and was shown to the comfortable blue velvet chair strewn with multicolored cushions, Silas felt desolate. He watched his three escorting Wizards take their place on the sofa opposite. But no one needed to try to fool Silas, so he did not receive the usual sociable chitchat. Instead, the Wizard guards sat like three stone monkeys, staring at him in a most disconcerting way—especially as Silas knew one of them quite well. Bernard Bernard was a regular player in Silas’s Counter-Feet league and had even been to the Palace for supper. It was excruciating. Silas could not bear to look at them. He stared at his boots and tried to imagine what could possibly have happened to cause his incarceration. But his imagination failed him. All he knew was that it must be really, really bad. He would put a big bet on it being something to do with Edmund and Ernold—but what?

  After what felt like hours, but was only ten minutes, the door opened and Marcia came in.

  Silas leaped to his feet. “Marcia!”

  To Silas’s horror, Marcia immediately placed her hand on the lever. “Sit!” she barked, as though Silas were a dog. Silas sat.

  Marcia nodded to the three Wizards on the sofa. “You may go.”

  Silas watched the Wizards file out, each one avoiding his gaze. He saw them close the door and, although he heard nothing, he knew that they had Locked it. Silas looked up at Marcia. “Marcia, please. Tell me what has happened,” he pleaded.

  Marcia walked across to the fake fireplace and stood with her back to the candles, placing her hand on the other lever.

  “I suggest you tell me, Silas,” she said coldly.

  “But I don’t know,” Silas very nearly wailed.

  “You don’t know?” Marcia spluttered incredulously. “You are telling me that you don’t know that your brothers are in fact two extremely skilled and daring Darke Wizards.”

  Silas’s laugh bordered on hysteria. “What?”

  “It is no laughing matter, Silas. You presented these as your two bumbling, Conjuring brothers eager to learn from us. When in fact they are two of the most skillful Wizards I have ever had the misfortune to come across.”

  “No, that’s not possible.”

  “Unfortunately it is perfectly possible.”

  “Well, they certainly had me fooled,” muttered Silas.

  “It doesn’t take a lot to do that,” snapped Marcia.

  Silas was about to say that they had had Marcia fooled too, but he stopped himself. He noticed with dismay that Marcia’s hand was not only resting on the lever, but was impatiently drumming her fingers on it.

  “Marcia . . .”

  “Yes?” Marcia waited for what she thought was a confession coming.

  “That lever—it is on a hair trigger.”

  Marcia looked surprised. She did not realize that Silas knew about the workings of the Stranger Chamber. She stopped drumming her fingers but Silas saw that she did not take her hand away.

  “I will remove my hand when you convince me that you have not been party to this.”

  “Party to what?”

  “Party to a conspiracy to introduce two Darke Wizards into the Wizard Tower for the purpose of theft and burglary of the most serious kind. Party to aiding and abetting the two said Wizards in pursuit of their plan. Party to expediting their escape from the Castle.”

  Silas spent some seconds trying to work out exactly what it was that Marcia had said. But his brain was in panic mode. All he could manage was, “Marcia, please. I don’t understand. What have they done?”

  Marcia did not reply. There was an odd look in her eyes that Silas found disconcerting. Silas had never progressed to the MindScreen level of his Apprenticeship and he did not realize that Marcia was trying—without the aid of any Magyk—to catch a glimpse of his thoughts.

  Marcia just about managed it. She got panic, anger with his brothers, but overriding everything was utter bewilderment. The bewilderment was, she could tell, completely genuine. Marcia took her hand off the lever and sat down on the sofa opposite Silas. Silas breathed a sigh of relief and fell back into the cushions. Marcia believed him.

  “Silas Heap,” she said, “I accept that you have not conspired against the Wizard Tower.”

&n
bsp; “Oh, thank goodness,” breathed Silas.

  Marcia held up her hand. “However . . .”

  “Oh,” muttered Silas.

  “You have neglected your duty as an Ordinary Wizard. On your Induction all those years ago you promised to protect the Wizard Tower at all times. You promised to honor your word. At some time in the last twelve hours you have broken both those promises with disastrous consequences.”

  “No! No, I haven’t.”

  “You have. You promised to accompany your brothers in the Wizard Tower at all times.”

  “But I have.”

  “If that is so, then that makes your position even worse.”

  “But—”

  Marcia cut in. “If you were with them at all times then that makes you an accomplice, does it not?”

  All Silas could do was to shake his head.

  “You understand that breaking your Induction vows can lead to permanent Barring from the Wizard Tower?”

  Silas nodded miserably.

  “And I assume you are aware that the Barring of a Wizard will also affect their immediate family?”

  Silas was horrified. “No! No, you can’t make Septimus suffer for my stupid mistake.”

  “I don’t make the rules, Silas. If you are Barred, then it is highly probable that Septimus will find he cannot access the arcane secrets of the Tower. This will mean that, should he wish it—and right now I don’t know if he ever will—he will never be able to become ExtraOrdinary Wizard. He will be Tainted by you.”

  Silas groaned.

  “It’s not fair, but that’s how it goes. You know that. There would be nothing I could do about it. The Tower has a mind of its own, and the deepest Magyk is not available to all. Why do you think we still have a Wizard Tower after it was inhabited by DomDaniel? He never got to its heart. Never.”

  Silas was aghast. “You can’t lump Septimus in with that awful old Necromancer!”

  “Of course I don’t. But the Wizard Tower might.”

  Silas put his head in his hands. What had his brothers done?

  Marcia spoke. “I want you to know that it is only for Septimus’s sake that I am not Barring you from the Tower.”

  Silas sat up. “You’re not?”

  “I’m not. I give you my word. So I suggest you try to fix things as soon as you can.”

  Silas felt bleary, as though someone had hit him on the head. “Fix what?” he asked.

  “Come on, Silas. Now you have my word that I’m not going to Bar you—and I keep my promises—you can be straight with me. You knew what Ernold and Edmund were planning. You’re their brother, they’ve been living with you, working with you—of course you knew. Just tell me where they are and what they’ve done with it and all will be fine.”

  Silas leaped to his feet. He had had enough. “Knew what?” he demanded. “Done with what? Marcia, what are you talking about? What have my idiot brothers done?”

  At last Marcia was convinced that Silas had no part in his brothers’ deed.

  She stood up and looked Silas in the eye. “Edmund and Ernold have stolen the Two-Faced Ring.”

  26

  BAD TIMING

  The door to the Sealed Tunnel in the Wizard Tower swung to and fro like a broken window in a hurricane as the last eddies of Magyk drained away. A somber group of senior Wizards stood at the door, waiting until it was possible to close it once more. It was essential that the tunnel be drained of all contamination before it was ReSealed.

  Septimus—extricated from the Pyramid Library—was there. It was important, Marcia had told him, that he saw the correct procedure for DeContaminating. Marcia had then hurried off to the Stranger Chamber where, Septimus guessed, she had the culprit.

  Bernard Bernard—a big bear of a man with squashy features and dishevelled hair—appeared. “Anyone need a break?” he inquired. And then, seeing Septimus, he added sympathetically, “Ah, hello, lad. Don’t you worry, now. He’ll be all right.”

  “Who’ll be all right?” asked Septimus.

  Bernard Bernard suddenly realized that Septimus did not know that Silas was in the Stranger Chamber. He looked embarrassed. “Ah. Well, I meant to say, we’ll be all right. All of us.”

  “So Marcia’s got the you-know-what back?” someone inquired. (Some of the more superstitious Wizards considered it bad luck to name the Two-Faced Ring.)

  “Just being, er, optimistic,” Bernard Bernard flannelled.

  “That’s a no, then,” observed the Wizard. A sigh ran through the group.

  “It’s those two idiot Heaps in there, is it?” asked another, and then glanced apologetically at Septimus. “Sorry, Apprentice. I forgot.”

  “That’s okay,” said Septimus. He wished he could forget.

  “Not sure how many exactly,” said Bernard Bernard awkwardly. “Must go.” And he hurried off.

  An embarrassed silence descended, broken only by the mournful squeak that the door to the Sealed Tunnel had developed: eek-erk, eek-erk, eek-erk.

  Marcia was determined that to any visitor to the Wizard Tower it must appear to be business as usual. It was Septimus’s job to deputize for her, so when Hildegarde came to tell him that there were some important visitors for Marcia and would he come now, please, he felt very relieved to leave the group of Watchers.

  Septimus found Marcellus and Simon sitting on the visitors’ bench next to the discreet door to the Stranger Chamber—and he knew what they had come for.

  Marcellus got straight to the point. “Septimus. You know that I would normally be very happy to deal directly with you. But as I am sure you realize, this particular errand demands I speak to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard herself. Is she available?”

  Septimus felt very uncomfortable. He wanted to say to Marcellus, No, she’s not, she’s in a real panic, someone has stolen the Ring, but of course he couldn’t. “Well . . . um,” he began, “Marcia is busy at the moment.” He decided to buy some time. “Would you like to come upstairs to her rooms?”

  Marcellus was dismayed; he knew that Septimus was not telling him something. His hopes for complete trust between the Wizard Tower and the Alchemie began to falter. Marcellus had somewhat grumpily accepted Septimus’s offer when the door to the Stranger Chamber was thrown open and Marcia strode out.

  “Marcia!” said Marcellus leaping to his feet. “Got you!”

  Marcia jumped. “Ah!”

  Silas appeared tentatively around the door.

  “Dad!” gasped Septimus and Simon together.

  “Oh,” said Silas, feeling as though he had been caught red-handed.

  Marcellus had seen the panic that had flashed across Marcia’s face when she first saw him. “Marcia,” he said, “I thought you’d be pleased to see me. The Fyre is lit. All is now ready for the DeNaturing of the Two-Faced Ring.”

  “Jolly good,” said Marcia.

  “I was just taking Marcellus and Simon upstairs,” Septimus told Marcia, “so you can talk to them in private.”

  But Marcia could not bear the thought of having to tell Marcellus that the ring had gone. “Tomorrow,” she said.

  “Tomorrow?” Marcellus and Septimus chorused, one indignant, the other shocked.

  “Tomorrow,” said Marcia. “Now excuse me, Marcellus, Simon. I really must get on.” Silently, she gave the password to the Wizard Tower doors and they swung open. The fresh outside air drifted in.

  Very deliberately Marcellus looked Marcia in the eye. “To save me another wasted journey, I would be most grateful if you would send someone with the ring when you find . . .” He paused meaningfully.

  “Find what?” Marcia dared him.

  “The . . . time. Good-bye, Marcia.”

  “Bye,” said Septimus apologetically as the doors swung silently closed, leaving Marcellus and Simon standing on the top step.

  “Well!” Marcellus exclaimed.

  Alchemist and Apprentice walked swiftly across the Courtyard and emerged from the Great Arch. A gust of wind blew up Wizard Way and Marcellus rais
ed his cloak to shield himself from the chill—and eavesdroppers.

  Marcellus had not defeated all eavesdroppers, however. Not far above him—returning to the Wizard Tower after a fruitless aerial search of the Castle—flew the Unseen ghost of Alther Mella. Alther had a Wizard’s mistrust of Alchemists and he wondered if Marcellus had anything to do with the theft of the ring. Now, he thought, was the time to find out. Still invisible, Alther swooped down low and followed Marcellus and Simon, flying no more than a few feet above their heads.

  “She’s lost it,” he heard Marcellus say in a low voice.

  “I thought she was quite calm, really,” Alther heard Simon reply. “I’ve seen her much worse than that.” Not entirely successfully, Alther fought back a laugh. Simon glanced up. “There’s some weird birds about,” he said, puzzled.

  Marcellus looked at his Apprentice sternly. “Simon, right now there are far more important things to think about than wildlife. I meant that I believe our ExtraOrdinary Wizard has lost—” Marcellus stopped and looked around. “It,” he whispered.

  Simon stopped dead. “No! Not the . . .” He, too, looked around and lowered his voice. “. . . ring. She can’t have.”

  “She was panicking; I saw it in her face. She couldn’t get rid of us fast enough. Septimus wanted to tell us but couldn’t. And the Wizard Tower was in turmoil. Did you not notice?”

  “Well, yes. It did seem a bit . . . frantic.”

  “Frantic? It was like someone had poked an ant’s nest.”

  “Yes. I suppose it was.”

  “It’s an utter disaster,” said Marcellus angrily. “Marcia has lost the Two-Faced Ring—and she doesn’t even have the decency to tell us.”

  Alther saw a look of horror spread over Simon’s face as he realized that what Marcellus said had to be true. “Oh, Foryx!” muttered Simon.

  “Quite,” said Marcellus.

  Alther had heard enough to convince him that Marcellus had nothing to do with the theft of the ring. He did a quick backflip and, breaking Rules numbers Two and Five in the EOW Post-Living Handbook—that ghosts of ExtraOrdinary Wizards do not use the door password or frequent the public areas of the Wizard Tower—he did first one, then the other. Alther then proceeded to break a few more rules for luck. He interrupted Marcia (Rule Twelve: Disrespecting the Current Incumbent). He told her she should not have sent Marcellus and Simon away (Rule Eight: Seeking to Influence and/or Criticize the Current Incumbent) and then he insisted she send Septimus out after them to bring them back (Rule Six: Interfering with the Policy of the Current Incumbent). He very nearly broke Rule One, which was about foul language, but Marcia backed down just in time.