Fyre

  From an attic window in the house of the Port Witch Coven, Dorinda saw a portly man wearing a stovepipe hat, a purple ExtraOrdinary Wizard’s cloak embroidered with Darke symbols and an impressive array of rings on his stubby, fat fingers. Dorinda’s huge elephant ears twitched in amazement. Surely that was DomDaniel? Her mouth went dry. But wasn’t he dead? She peered out again and saw the man lift the knocker and knock loudly on the door. Dorinda knew no ghost could do that. She sat down on her bed in horror. He’s real, thought Dorinda. And then she thought: DomDaniel is visiting Nursie! Dorinda began to panic; clearly there was more to Nursie than she’d realized. She just wished she’d known that earlier—before she’d tipped a bucket of Darke spiders over her that afternoon while she was hanging out the washing. Dorinda groaned. She wrapped her elephant ears around her head and began to chew a soft ear-edge for comfort. Nursie had looked up and seen her—so that was what she had meant by “I’ll get you for that, you little trollop!” Nursie was going to set DomDaniel on her. Dorinda shook her elephant ears free, leaped to her feet and screamed. And when Dorinda screamed, the whole of the Port Witch Coven knew it.

  Down on Nursie’s doorstep, Jim Knee was, to his surprise, enjoying himself. He had a penchant for rings and he rather liked his new collection. He raised his hand to knock once more and admired the flash of the diamond cluster that nestled on his little finger. As he was about to let the knocker go, the door surprised him by opening to reveal the back view of a lanky youth with short black hair and a neat dark tunic, who was yelling back into the house.

  “What?”

  “Answer . . . the . . . door!” a disembodied voice yelled from somewhere at the top of the house.

  Septimus, who was standing hidden in the shadows behind Jim Knee, was relieved to see that Merrin Meredith seemed his usual self—clearly the Darke Wizards had not yet found him. Septimus thought that Merrin looked surprisingly neat and tidy—pretty normal, in fact—apart from a bandage around his left hand, which, as it grasped the edge of the door, showed an odd flatness where the thumb should be. But Merrin himself had yet to notice who had knocked. He was too busy yelling, “I’m doing it!”

  “Merrin! Answer . . . the . . . door!” came the voice from upstairs.

  “I’veansweredthestupiddoorareyoudeaf?” Merrin screamed into the gloom of the house. “Jeez!” He swung around grumpily and saw his visitor for the first time. His mouth fell open and stayed that way.

  “Who . . . is . . . it?” yelled the voice from upstairs.

  Merrin was in no state to reply—all he could do was stare at the apparition on the doorstep in terror.

  Jim Knee perused his dumbstruck victim with an air of satisfaction; things were going well. The jinnee drew himself up to DomDaniel’s full height—which was not much, although the stovepipe hat added enough to be just taller than the boy at the door—and was surprised by the nasty little voice that came out of his mouth.

  “Apprentice.” Jim Knee coughed and tried to get the voice deeper and more scary. “Ahem. Apprentice.”

  Merrin emitted a small squeak and leaned against the doorframe. His long, thin legs wobbled as though they were made of rubber and looked ready to fold in half at any moment. From inside the house heavy footsteps could be heard coming downstairs accompanied by a voice yelling, “Merrin! Who is it?”

  “Hurry up!” Septimus urged his jinnee.

  “Apprentice,” intoned Jim Knee. “You will accompany me to the Castle.”

  Merrin leaped back and tried to slam the door, but Jim Knee stepped forward and wedged his foot against it. Merrin stared at his old Master in horror. It was worse than his worst nightmare ever. “N-nah . . . ah . . .” he gurgled.

  “Apprentice. Come with me!” Jim Knee boomed, getting control of the voice now. He leaned close to Merrin and said in a voice so laden with threat that even Septimus got goose bumps, “Do I have to make you, you little toad?”

  Wide-eyed, widemouthed, Merrin shook his head. Very reluctantly, he began to edge forward. Suddenly footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

  “Mum!” squeaked Merrin.

  Septimus panicked—events were going a little too fast. In a moment Nursie would be there and they would have lost their chance. “Grab him, quick!” he told Jim Knee.

  Jim Knee grabbed Merrin’s arm.

  Nursie’s voice came echoing along the corridor. “Merrin! Tell them we’re full!”

  “Mum! Help!” Merrin at last managed a small yell.

  Thud, thud, thud came the sound of hobnail boots on floorboards: mummy monster was coming to rescue her baby. “Oi, what’s going on? You let go, you great big bully!”

  “Ouch!” yelled Jim Knee.

  A large fist landed square on the jinnee’s nose, which was still very sore from hitting the bollard. To Septimus’s dismay, Jim Knee collapsed in a heap on the doorstep. Septimus leaped forward and grabbed hold of his jinnee’s collar—a greasy affair that protruded over the purple cloak.

  “Get up, you idiot,” he hissed. Merrin stared at Septimus in amazement. He would never have dared call his old Master that.

  A shadow fell across Septimus. He looked up and saw the substantial bulk of Nursie looming over him. “Get that horrible man away from my Merrin,” she told Septimus. Nursie took in Simon. “And you can buzz off too. Blasted Heaps. Nothing but trouble.” She turned to Merrin, who was leaning against the doorway, pale as a ghost. “Are you all right, my precious?” she asked.

  Merrin nodded weakly.

  It was at that moment that the door to the Port Witch Coven was wrenched open and the Witch Mother staggered out. “Master!” came the loud rasp of her voice. All on the doorstep turned in amazement to watch the Witch Mother—a round barrel of black robes smelling of cat poo—clatter precariously across to the Doll House in her tall, spiked shoes. The Witch Mother’s face, creased from sleeping in her thick white makeup (which covered her allergy to woodworm) was set in an expression of extreme humbleness. She grabbed hold of the Doll House railings and hauled herself up, heading for Simon and Jim Knee. Jim Knee stared at the Witch Mother in horror. He did not like witches.

  Neither did Nursie. “And you can buzz off too, you old carcass,” Nursie informed the Witch Mother, and gave her a push. The Witch Mother wobbled precariously and grabbed hold of Simon to stop herself falling. Simon pushed her away and the Witch Mother clattered back against the railings.

  Alther watched in dismay as a full-scale brawl threatened to break out on the doorstep of the Doll House. He decided to Appear, making himself as opaque as possible, for he was sure that Nursie was one of those who never normally saw ghosts.

  “Madam,” he said.

  “What?” demanded Nursie.

  “There seems to be some kind of misunderstanding.”

  “I understand perfectly. This horrible old baggage.” Nursie stabbed her finger on Jim Knee’s nose for emphasis.

  “Ouch!”

  “Not only kidnapped my little boy when he was a baby but now he has the nerve to come back and try it all over again. Well, I’m not having it. Not this time.”

  “Madam,” said Alther. “Please let me explain. We have come to help your son; he is in grave danger from—”

  “Him!” Nursie poked at Jim Knee again for emphasis.

  “Ouch!”

  “And he is lucky I don’t do worse than poke—”

  “Ouch!”

  “Him—”

  “Ouch!”

  “In—”

  “Ouch!”

  “The—”

  “Ouch!”

  “Nose.”

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch!”

  The Witch Mother watched Nursie’s treatment of DomDaniel in amazement. A new respect for her neighbor began to dawn. “Er . . . Nursie,” she ventured.

  “What now?” demanded Nursie.

  “Please accept my most humble apologies for any inconvenience that the Coven may have caused you in the past and my assurances that we will do all we can in the futur
e to assist you in any way. Any way at all . . .” The Witch Mother made an awkward bow to Nursie.

  Nursie was on a roll. Her enemies were falling before her like bowling pins and she was going to make the most of it. “And you, you smelly old bat—you can buzz off an’ all,” she snapped at the Witch Mother.

  The Witch Mother continued bowing frantically and began to back away. “Yes, thank you. I will indeed buzz off as you so kindly suggest.”

  The motley group on the doorstep of the Doll House watched the Witch Mother totter back next door, lift the Darke Toad doorknocker and let it go with a bang. The door opened and the Witch Mother staggered inside. As soon as the door to the Port Witch Coven closed Septimus told Jim Knee to Transform. There was a flash of yellow light on Nursie’s doorstep and DomDaniel was gone; in his place stood an exotic-looking man dressed in yellow holding his red, swollen nose.

  Nursie looked at her visitors quizzically. A few weeks back she had received a letter from Marcia explaining what had happened to Merrin and telling her that he was her son. Nursie, after all the years in the wilderness, searching for her son, had at last begun to think clearly. And the more she thought, the more she knew that she was never, ever, going to let Merrin out of her sight. She perused the Apprentices, the odd-looking man with the doughnut hat and the ghost. Taking the ghost to be the most reasonable of them all she addressed her comment to him.

  “Is my Merrin really in danger?” she asked Alther.

  “Unfortunately, madam, he is.”

  “Why?” demanded Nursie—quite understandably, Alther thought.

  “It relates to the Darke ring he used to wear, madam.”

  “But he doesn’t have it anymore. Look. Show them, Merrin.”

  Merrin meekly held up his bandaged hand.

  “Indeed, madam. But the two Darke Wizards who were in the ring have escaped. This puts your son in great danger. Which is why we wish to take him to the Wizard Tower for his own protection.”

  Nursie was suspicious. “Why do you care about him all of a sudden? You never did before.”

  “It is to do with the ring, madam,” said Alther, who tried to never tell a lie.

  Nursie narrowed her eyes and looked at Alther. “If you wasn’t such a nice, honest-looking gentleman, I’d say you was thinking of using my Merrin as bait,” she said.

  “Bait!” gasped Alther.

  “To get the ring back.”

  “Oh. Goodness me!”

  “Near the mark, am I?” asked Nursie.

  “No, no!” Alther rapidly abandoned his principles for the greater good. “We would not dream of doing such a thing. Oh, dear me, no.”

  “And he’ll be safe in the Castle?”

  “As safe as we can make him, madam.”

  “Very well. On one condition,” said Nursie.

  “Yes, madam. And what would that be?”

  “I will take him myself. I am not letting my Merrin out of my sight ever again.”

  Alther knew when to give in. Short of abducting Merrin by force—and with Nursie present he didn’t give much for their chances—it was the best they were going get.

  “Very well, madam. I beg the honor of escorting you.”

  “To make sure we don’t escape?” asked Nursie.

  “No, madam, not at all. To try to protect you from the Darke Wizards.” And this time, Alther did indeed speak the truth.

  They were just in time to catch the late Barge to the Castle. Merrin and Nursie joined the Barge’s only passengers—two excitable women who were planning to join a Magyk tour of the Castle the following morning. They took their seats under cover and wrapped themselves in the rough barge blankets provided for nighttime journeys. Alther hovered above the barge, watching for any signs of trouble. But despite the wind and the spattering of rain that was beginning to fall, all was quiet. It seemed as though the whole Port had gone early to bed.

  Septimus, Simon and Jim Knee watched the barge edge away from the Quay and head out into the choppy waters of the river. They saw the wind catch its huge white sail and send it plowing rapidly through the spray. Very soon it was gone into the night, heading upriver to the Castle.

  “It won’t take them long with this wind,” said Simon. “It will blow them straight there.”

  Septimus and Simon headed away from the Barge Quay into the maze of alleyways that would take them back to the harbor front, where they could safely do their Transports back to the Castle. Jim Knee followed, debating with himself whether he might request being an owl for the return journey. He was so hungry that the idea of fresh mouse was quite appealing. And then he thought about mousetail and changed his mind.

  Septimus was pleased with the way things had gone. “Bait dispatched,” he said. “Now all we have to do is wait for Edmund and Ernold to turn up for it.”

  But seeing Merrin shivering in the barge, setting off into the night—and who knew what danger—had made Simon thoughtful. “Poor Merrin,” he said.

  Septimus was not in the mood to feel sorry for Merrin. “None of this would have happened if he hadn’t taken the ring in the first place.”

  “True,” agreed Simon. “But then, you could say the same about many things. None of it would have happened if DomDaniel hadn’t kidnapped him instead of you. Maybe you should be thankful to Merrin for taking your place.”

  Septimus fell into kid-brother mode. “I wouldn’t have been such a little tick as him, even if it had been me,” he retorted.

  Simon smiled ruefully. “You can’t know for sure. Not until you have walked the same road in the same shoes.”

  “But my feet are different from his,” said Septimus.

  “They are now. But baby feet are soft. You have to take care they don’t get squashed.” Simon grinned at Septimus. “Well, that’s what Lucy says, anyway.”

  The alleyway narrowed and Septimus dropped back. They hurried, single file, through Fat Man’s Crush and Weasel Slip Slide and soon emerged onto the deserted harbor front.

  “Ready to go?” Septimus asked Simon.

  Simon nodded.

  Septimus decided to give Jim Knee the choice of bird to Transform to—the jinnee had done well. “Time to go, Jim Knee. I’ll see you at the Castle—at the Port barge landing stage. We have someone to meet. Transform!”

  There was a flash of yellow light, a small pop, and an albatross stood at Septimus’s feet. Septimus heard a sharp intake of breath from Simon.

  “Oh, no.”

  “It’s okay. I said he could be what he liked.”

  “Not the stupid albatross. Over there. Look!”

  Heart in mouth, Septimus looked up, expecting to see two wild Heap uncles heading their way. But hurrying out of the shadows came a very different Heap.

  “It can’t be,” said Septimus.

  “It is. It’s Jenna.”

  30

  PORT PALACE

  “Oh, Sep. It is so good to see you!” Jenna threw herself at Septimus and hugged him hard. “And you too, Simon.”

  “What are you doing here, Jen?” Septimus whispered.

  “You would not believe it, Sep. You just would not. She is totally, utterly impossible.”

  “Who is?”

  “The Queen—my mother. She is a complete control freak. Mum never, ever behaved like that.”

  Septimus recognized the expression in Jenna’s eyes. “You mean you had a fight with the Queen?”

  “You bet I did,” said Jenna.

  “Wow.”

  “I stuck it out for forever, Sep, until I couldn’t stand it a moment longer. I just had to come home.”

  “You walked out?” Septimus was amazed.

  “Yep. But I was so mad that I didn’t look where I was going and I ended up here. There’s a kind of crossroads in the Queen’s Way, I think.” Jenna grinned at Septimus. “And now I’m really glad I did.” She stood back and pushed her hair out of her eyes.

  Jenna began to notice how oddly her brothers were behaving. They were standing really close to
her—like a couple of guards—but neither of them was looking at her. Instead they were gazing around the empty harbor front like they were expecting someone else to arrive at any moment.

  “Hey, you don’t look very pleased to see me,” Jenna said.

  “We’re not,” said Simon tersely.

  “Well, thank you, Simon Heap. Thank you so much.”

  “He didn’t mean it like that, Jen,” Septimus whispered.

  “Well how did he mean it, then?”

  “There’s no time for this,” said Simon, also whispering. “Right now we need to get somewhere safe.”

  Jenna was beginning to feel scared. She glanced around and thought for the first time how scary an empty harborside can be. “Why, aren’t we safe here?”

  “No.”

  “I guess it is creepy here. Anyway, I’m off. I’ve stayed here too long as it is—I really must get back and see Mum. I’m going to get the late Barge to the Castle.”

  “You’ve missed it,” said Septimus.

  A gust of wind whipped across the open harbor front, sending the ships rigging zinging, and a rumble of thunder drifted in from the ocean beyond. Jenna shivered. In her time away she had become accustomed to the heat. Suddenly she felt tired, cold and frightened. “Well, I suppose we can go back to the Port Palace,” she said reluctantly.

  “Where’s that?” asked Simon, who knew the Port well, but had never seen or heard of a Palace.

  Jenna pointed over to the Customs House, a tall building on the edge of the harbor front where Simon had, until recently, lived in one of the attic rooms. “There’s an alleyway down there.”

  “No, there isn’t,” said Simon.

  “Yes, there is,” said Jenna. “But you don’t see it—unless you’re with me. So, do you want to go there or not?”

  A flash of something by the side of The Harbor and Dock Pie Shop caught Septimus’s eye. “Yes, we do. Right now,” he said, accompanied by the bang of Maureen’s broom as she chased out two rats she had found sleeping in the warmth beneath the pie ovens.

  “Okay.” Jenna set off across the harbor front. Flanked on either side by her guards and waddled after by a reluctant albatross, who longed to be spreading its wings and lifting off into the wind, she led them into the shadows of an old brick wall beside the Customs House. Jenna turned to her brothers.