Erik leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. Septimus knew Erik was finding it hard to have his youngest brother in a position of power, but it did not excuse his rudeness.
“I propose to send my jinnee, Jim Knee, to all three deserts in quick succession to search for the Egg. As a Magykal being, Jim Knee will be able to travel faster than any human and will be protected from many dangers. I have given him permission to Transform into any creature he wishes, whenever he wishes. My Apprentice—who, as you all know, is a skilled PathFinder and understands the Ancient Ways—will show Jim Knee how to navigate them. We still have some final planning to do, but we hope to send the jinnee through today—there is not a moment to lose.”
A murmur of agreement came from the Moot. “Now,” Septimus said, “if anyone has any questions, please feel free to ask.”
As if in reply, a loud snore came from the visitors’ bench. It was followed by an outbreak of laughter from the Moot.
“I’ve got a question!” a shout came from the back of the crowd.
“Yes?”
“How do you plan to wake him up?”
“Oh, I’ll wake him up all right,” Septimus said. “Don’t you worry.”
JINNEE FUSS
Septimus and Tod retreated to the Pyramid Library to work out the best routes for Jim Knee to take. As PathFinder, Tod—accompanied by Edd and Erik Heap as bodyguards—was to show the jinnee how to navigate the first route, then she and the twins would return. After that Jim Knee was on his own. It was not until late in the afternoon that Septimus and Tod had three long lists of numbers, one list for each desert and a number for every arch that Jim Knee must walk through.
Septimus sent a message to the Manuscriptorium to say they were ready, and they met Beetle in the Great Hall. Jim Knee respected Beetle—and Septimus knew he was going to need all the respect he could get. Beetle and Septimus looked down at the sleeping jinnee, who still lay dozing on the visitors’ bench beneath his quilts. “Right,” said Septimus. “Time to wake him.”
Beetle grinned. “Good luck,” he said.
“Jim Knee, wake up!” Septimus said in a commanding voice.
There was no response. The jinnee’s eyes remained closed, his long, elegant hands folded peacefully over the top of the feather quilts. With the gaze of Edd and Erik upon him, Septimus was not going to let his jinnee get away with such disrespect. He took a small spiky red ball from his pocket and Activated it. The Alarm emitted a loud screech and began to jump up and down on Jim Knee’s long, elegant nose. In a moment the jinnee was sitting up, an expression of outrage upon his face.
Septimus got in first. “Jim Knee, I Command you to find the Egg of the Orm.”
“What, now?” asked Jim Knee.
“Now,” said Septimus. “And I give you an overriding Command: keep my Apprentice safe.”
“Will do,” Jim Knee replied laconically. “And just to check. I do have free will to Transform?”
“Free will,” Septimus agreed. “But only in pursuit of my Commands. Understand?”
Jim Knee thought that gave him plenty of scope. “Okeydokey,” he replied.
Tod led the way. She murmured the password in the offhand manner that all Apprentices soon acquired, then the tall silver doors to the Wizard Tower slowly opened and Tod stepped out into a beautiful winter scene. A hazy sun was already low over the rooftops of Wizard Way, sending rosy sparkles of light dancing on the frosty snow that lay on the courtyard before her. The Big Freeze had been long, cold and deep that year but Tod had loved every minute of it. The snow made her feel happy and optimistic, and as she walked slowly down the white marble steps, Tod felt sure they would soon track down the Egg of the Orm.
Behind Tod came the disparate trio of Septimus, Beetle and Jim Knee. The Chief Hermetic Scribe had a firm grasp on Jim Knee’s right elbow, while Septimus had an equally firm grip on the left. Close behind them came Edd and Erik Heap in their green robes with purple Senior Apprentice ribbons on the cuffs of their sleeves. They were reassuringly broad and had a slightly wild look to them.
“I really can’t see why you don’t use our new Way in the Manuscriptorium,” Beetle was saying. “It would be so much easier than going through Marcia’s Hub. And you know what she thinks about Jim Knee.”
“For security reasons we have agreed to keep that Way closed, Beetle, as you know,” Septimus said. “I still wish you would let me put a Seal on it, just to be sure.”
Beetle had been able to use the Manuscriptorium Way only once—when he and his deputy, Foxy, had nervously ventured to the other side of the world with a stack of leaflets advertising their services—before Septimus had insisted on it being closed. It was an open secret that the Chief Hermetic Scribe felt frustrated by Septimus’s veto over what he saw as his own jurisdiction. Beetle had even joked among his scribes about declaring independence. “We are perfectly capable of policing our Way, thank you,” Beetle said stiffly.
“Of course you are,” Septimus said, trying to mollify his friend. “But you see, Marcia’s Hub gives us much more choice. Eleven choices compared to one.”
Beetle sighed. “I know. Just thought I’d mention it, that’s all.”
At the foot of the Wizard Tower steps they turned sharp left and headed for the Hidden arch, which Tod—unlike Septimus or Beetle—could see fitting snugly beneath the steps like a cupboard under the stairs. Jim Knee could also see the arch, but he was not going to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing it. The jinnee knew the Ancient Ways pretty well, having once routinely traveled them as part of his job as a runner for a wealthy merchant. But Jim Knee was still annoyed at having been dragged from his winter sleep and, while he would eventually obey his master as he was bound to do, he did not intend to make anything easy for Septimus.
The group gathered in front of a faint line of purple chalk tracing the outline of the arch that would take them to a Hub some fifty miles away deep in the bowels of the keep of an old castle. The Hub was familiar territory to them all, for it belonged to the previous ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Septimus’s old tutor, Marcia Overstrand. Septimus was looking forward to seeing Marcia and talking his plan through with her. “Okay, Tod,” he said. “Take us in, please.”
A sudden wail came from Jim Knee. “Aieeeeee!” With consummate drama, the jinnee slipped from their grasp like a wet fish and fell to the ground, apparently unconscious.
Septimus was not pleased. “Jim Knee, get up! At once!”
But the jinnee lay still, a streak of white upon the snow.
“I think he’s too cold,” said Beetle. “He’s only wearing a thin silk robe and open sandals.”
“Because that is all he would wear,” Septimus said, staring down at his jinnee in exasperation.
“Not even underpants?” asked Beetle.
“Don’t even go there, Beetle,” Septimus said. “I do not want to think about Jim Knee’s underpants, thank you.”
Beetle smiled ruefully. “Underpants or no, it really is very silly of him. Jinn are notoriously sensitive to temperature changes.”
Septimus had forgotten that. “Bother,” he said. “He did it deliberately. Just to make things difficult.”
“So what’s new?” Beetle grinned. “When did Jim Knee ever make things easy?”
Septimus sighed. Despite his optimism in public, privately he knew the chances of Jim Knee finding the Orm Egg were not good—and if his jinnee was set on being so contrary right from the start, things were looking very bad indeed. “We’d better take him back inside and get him warm,” Septimus said. He raised his voice in Jim Knee’s direction. “But he needn’t think he’s getting away with this kind of behavior. Any more trouble and he’ll be hibernating in the Sealed Cell.”
Jim Knee’s eyes flickered. The jinnee had once spent some time in the Sealed Cell and he had hated it. It was horribly cramped and had reminded him of the inside of his last bottle. He decided to warm up in the Wizard Tower and accept Septimus’s earlier offer of a fur coat. Then he’d get on with the
job he had to do.
Septimus, Beetle, Edd and Erik lifted Jim Knee to his feet. The jinnee swayed and gave a weak groan. “He’s putting it on,” Septimus said.
“Very possibly,” Beetle agreed, “but you can’t be sure. Jinn are delicate creatures and with each new life they become more so. And if you believe half of Jim Knee’s stories, he’s had an awful lot of those.”
“I suppose,” said Septimus. He turned to Tod. “Would you mind going to warn Marcia we are coming? She’s not a big fan of Jim Knee and it might be polite to let her know. Come straight back, okay?”
“Okay.” Tod smiled. She loved traveling the Ways on her own and she loved the fact that Septimus trusted her to go alone. Septimus watched his Apprentice place her hand onto the hard white marble below the steps, then he saw the shimmering shape of an archway begin to appear and the surface of the marble soften. Septimus was impressed by his Apprentice’s skill. She was a good choice—unlike his jinnee.
SHADOWS ON THE SEAL
In Marcia’s Hub three Drummins were perusing the shimmering purple skin of a Magykal Seal. Drummins were very short, stocky, human-like creatures accustomed to living belowground. They had been caretakers of the Hub for three years now and they knew it better than they knew the suckers on the ends of their broad, flat fingers.
Using their preferred language of signing, Fabius Drummin signed, There’s something behind the Seal on Way One.
Claudius replied, Three humans, I think.
And a creature, added Lucius.
We should tell the boss, signed Claudius.
Claudius and Lucius both looked pointedly at Fabius, who was on upstairs duties that day. All right, all right, I’ll go, he signed grumpily.
Fabius hurried off, his bouncing strides taking him across the white stone floor of the immaculately clean Hub and up the winding stairs that led out of it. The remaining two Drummins stared at the Seal, watching for any sign of failure. They were looking so intently that they did not see the arch behind them—the only one UnSealed—light up with a golden glow and a slight figure in a green tunic and leggings come striding out. Tod stopped. She saw the Drummins were busy and, not wanting to interrupt, she tiptoed over to them. “Hey,” she whispered.
“Argh!” The Drummins spun around. “Don’t do that, Alice,” Lucius hissed, and using the Drummin sign for being quiet—one that everyone understood—he put his index finger to his lips.
Tod knew the Drummins were annoyed with her: they had called her Alice. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to startle you. What’s going on?”
Trouble, Lucius signed. Tod, being a PathFinder, also used signs, and although the PathFinder sign language lacked the complex grammar of the Drummins’ language, many of the signs were similar. And “trouble”—the first two fingers of each hand folded at the second joint and twisted together—was easily recognizable.
What trouble? Tod signed.
Claudius proceeded to sign something much longer, but seeing Tod’s look of incomprehension, he stopped and whispered, “There are creatures behind the Seal.”
Tod’s eyes widened in fear. “Not . . . Garmin?” Garmin were nightmarish beings that the sorcerer Oraton-Marr had used to abduct, terrify and control people—including, once, Tod herself. The Seals were placed across the arches for good reason: to stop any danger of the Garmins’ return.
Both Drummins shook their heads—it wasn’t Garmin.
Human, Claudius signed.
Tod understood the sign for “human.” Encouraged, she signed, May I try?
The Drummins respected Tod’s knowledge of the Ancient Ways, and now that she was Apprentice they knew she would be careful with the Magyk protecting the Seals, so they stepped aside.
Very gently, Tod placed her hands on the delicate skin of the Seal. Beneath the thrum of the Magyk warming her palms, Tod could Feel the energy from something alive on the other side, but her skills were untrained and she had no way of knowing whether it was even human—let alone if it was a good human or a bad one.
On the other side of the Seal, Sam lay slumped against the cold stone of the wall, with Marwick and Kaznim on either side. And, for a reason neither Sam nor Marwick understood, the tortoise was now resting on Sam’s wounded stomach. When Kaznim had first placed Ptolemy on Sam’s sodden bandage, Marwick had been horrified. He’d snatched the tortoise off with the words, “Don’t! It’s filthy! Have you never heard of infection?”
Kaznim didn’t like Ptolemy being called filthy but she took the tortoise quickly because Marwick had looked as though he’d wanted to hurl Ptolemy to the ground, and Kaznim had a horror of the tortoise breaking his shell. But then Sam had murmured, “Put it back. Helps with . . . pain.” So Marwick had reluctantly replaced the tortoise and Sam had relaxed a little.
An awkward silence fell between Kaznim and Marwick and she occupied herself with gazing at the Seal, thinking of ways to break through. She was just about to suggest they stick a knife into it when she saw the shadow of two hands, not much bigger than her own, appear on it. “There’s someone there!” she gasped. “Look! On the Seal!” Marwick looked up, hope springing into his eyes. Kaznim jumped up and placed her hands against the shadows of those on the other side. Her hands fit neatly inside the shape.
“Oh!” Tod snatched her hands away and jumped back. “There’s someone there. Someone touched my hands.” She stared down at her palms as if trying to find out what they knew.
On the other side of the Seal, Kaznim saw the shadow of the hands disappear. “No!” she yelled. “Come back, please come back! We need help. Help!” She pummeled the unyielding Seal in desperation. Marwick sighed. It had been too good to be true, he thought. It was just a kid on the other side fooling around, nothing more.
In the Hub, Tod saw small, round shadows hitting the shimmering purple skin. “There’s someone trying to get out,” she whispered. “A child. Look how small the fists are. And how low down.”
“It’s a trick,” said Lucius.
“A Darke trick,” added Claudius.
Tod frowned. “It didn’t feel Darke,” she said. “Well, I don’t think so. It felt more like a child to me. A frightened child.”
“The Darke plays many tricks,” Lucius said gloomily. “Impersonating a small human is but one.”
“Particularly a frightened one,” Claudius added for good measure.
Tod stared at the Seal. She could not shake off the feeling that someone on the other side was in desperate need of help. “I’ll go upstairs and get Marcia,” she said.
“Fabius has already—” Claudius began to explain, when the Drummin in question came thubbing down the stairs and bounced into the Hub. His gingery eyebrows were gathered into a frown.
“Boss has bloomin’ gone,” he said. Then, suddenly noticing Tod, he said, “Begging your pardon, Apprentice. What I mean to say is that unfortunately, Madam Marcia has left.”
“She never said,” Lucius growled.
“Left message with Cook. Caught ebb tide. Gone to wave the Captain off from the Seaward Quay.”
“Huh. She’s supposed to let us know first,” muttered Lucius.
“Well, time and tide wait for no woman,” said Fabius. “An’ the Captain don’t, neither. An’ moanin’ about the boss don’t get us any closer to knowin’ what be on the other side of the Seal.”
On the other side of the Seal Sam’s eyes were closing and his body was becoming limp. Marwick looked at Kaznim. “If we don’t get out soon, Sam won’t . . .” His voice trailed away.
Sam stirred and groaned. A trickle of blood ran from his sodden bandage and Kaznim watched the dark red line slowly make its way along the pure white stone. When it reached the Seal, to her surprise, it ran through.
Kaznim turned to tell Marwick what had happened, but he was whispering something to Sam, and suddenly she felt like an intruder on something very private. She stared studiedly at the Seal. Behind her a stillness had descended. As an Apothecary’s daughter, Kaznim knew
what that meant. Sam’s Leaving Time was near. She sat down, cross-legged by the Seal, and placed her palms on it once more. “Help us,” she whispered. “Please. Help us.”
In the Hub, Tod and the Drummins watched a dark liquid emerge from beneath the Seal.
“Blood,” whispered Lucius.
“Murder,” muttered Fabius.
“Most foul,” Claudius added, shaking his head.
Tod could see the shape of two small hands once more pressed down low on the purple skin and she knew that, murder or not, someone was begging for help. “I’m going to get Septimus,” she said.
The Drummins nodded. It was time to call in reinforcements. “Travel fast,” said Fabius. “We will stand guard.”
In less than five minutes, Tod was back with Septimus. His long purple robes and his impressive gold-and-platinum belt gave him an instant air of authority. The Drummins quickly jumped away from the Seal and let Septimus through. Like Tod, he rested his hands on the shimmering purple skin. Like Tod, he understood that there was someone in urgent need of help on the other side, but unlike Tod, he knew for sure that there was nothing Darke there.
Kaznim saw the shadow of two large hands on the Seal, high above her head. Then, while Septimus was explaining to Tod how to Feel the absence of Darke, Kaznim, with a sudden feeling of hope, jumped up. Stretching her hands high above her head and standing on tiptoe, she just managed to place her hands against the larger shadows.
“You are right, Tod, it is a child. And others, too, in great distress,” Septimus said, taking his hands away—to Kaznim’s despair. “Now, this is a serious step: I am going to override Marcia’s Seal. One may only countermand another Wizard’s Seal when a matter of life or death is at hand. I believe this to be the case right now. You understand?”
“Yes, I do understand,” Tod said, feeling very relieved. She had wanted to break through the Seal ever since she had seen the small hands on the other side. Tod watched Septimus place his palms once more on the Seal. She saw two small shadows try to touch them and her heart did a little flip of pity—someone was desperate.