The guard who had apologized to Jonas ran to help Dan and Tod out. “Your good health, sir, miss,” he muttered as he took the heavy egg from their trembling arms and laid it carefully on the lapis floor.
Oraton-Marr stared greedily down at the Egg of the Orm, which lay shining a brilliant blue streaked with gold. “Bring it, bring it! It is mine! I want it now!” he screamed down from the balcony.
“No!” Driffa shouted. “The Egg is sacred. It belongs here. With us!”
An angry murmur of agreement began to spread through the Chamber of the Orm.
Spooked by the unrest surrounding them, some of the guards slunk out of the chamber. However, there were still a few eager to be in their Master’s good books. Two of them picked up the Egg of the Orm and staggered away. Tod and Dan watched it go, too exhausted to even protest. Eagerly, Oraton-Marr followed the egg’s shimmering blue progress past the necklace of openings of the Sacred Walk, watching his treasure draw ever closer.
The realization that the PathFinders were now safe spread through the Chamber of the Orm. An air of celebration began to take hold. Torr leaped up and down, yelling, “Dad! Mum!”
William jumped up too. “Mum! Mum!” he shouted, waving madly.
In the excitement, Lucy could keep quiet no longer. “William! Oh, William!” she called out and then clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, realizing too late what she had done.
The Lady figured it out at once. “So that brat is yours,” she spat. “I have not forgotten, Madam, that you have reneged on your contract. And his time is now up.” She leaned over the balcony, her short, fat finger pointing down at William Heap. “Throw that boy in!” she yelled at the guards below. “Throw him in! Yes, him, with the yellow hair!”
All eyes turned to William. Terrified, he skittered away down the rubble and slipped—straight into the arms of a guard. The man lifted his struggling, yelling victim up triumphantly, only to be hurled to the ground by a huge black cat that came flying out of the shadows. William squirmed his way free and hid behind Ullr, who stood with teeth bared, snarling.
Two more guards now approached, one carrying a flaming torch grabbed from the wall. Ullr shrank away—fire was the only thing he feared. While the big cat cowered, growling at the flames, the other guard cornered William and grabbed him. He carried the boy kicking and screaming to the edge of dark, deep circle of water—and threw him in.
“Noooooooooooo!” A wild, animal scream came from Lucy Heap.
But on the surface of the Orm Tube there was nothing but a few ripples and a smear of rocky dust.
Lucy ran at the Lady and landed a wild punch that knocked her off her feet. The balcony gave an ominous crack as she hit the floor. Drone watched impassively and when Lucy and Driffa turned to run, he stepped politely aside and bowed. He did not like what had happened to William Heap.
Down in the Orm Chamber, Dan and Tod struggled to their feet, intending to dive in after William. But an intense shivering had set in, leaving them weak, and when guards roughly pushed them away, they staggered back helplessly.
“Ullr!” yelled Tod. “Ullr!” There was no response.
In the PathFinder cage, anger was spreading. People at the back were pressing forward and those in the front were daring to venture out. The guards could feel the rage coming through the bars.
“Leg it,” one muttered under his breath.
“Yeah. Before they get us,” growled his neighbor.
They broke ranks and ran—and were followed by several others. On their way up they met Lucy hurtling toward them. They stood back respectfully and allowed her to pass.
“It’s not right what they did to her boy,” said one.
“We should have stopped it,” said the other.
“I would have if you had,” said his friend.
“You never said.”
“Neither did you.”
“Well, we can all go home now,” said another.
“If we’ve got a home to go to. If that sorcerer hasn’t set fire to it like he said he would,” said his friend.
Oraton-Marr was the last one standing on the balcony. He looked down with disdain at his sister, lying on her back like a stranded beetle. She was always so undignified. He saw the unrest in the Orm Chamber below, the guards deserting their posts, the angry fists shaking at him, the wagging fingers pointing and then, in the depths of the water of the Orm Tube, he saw a dark shape moving toward the surface—a shape far too big to be a boy. A sudden fear came over Oraton-Marr. Maybe the Great Orm had not died. Maybe it was a living Orm curled up on the roof of the Heart of the Ways. And maybe the living Orm had come to reclaim its egg. He sprang out through the curtain, grabbed the waiting egg from the guards and wrapped it in his cloak. Then he swung it over his shoulder like a huge sack of potatoes and leaped away in great bounds, heading for the Heart of the Ways. At that, the last of the guards quietly left the Chamber of the Orm.
On the balcony, the Lady struggled to her feet. A jeer rose up from below. “Get her!” one of the PathFinders yelled, and the shout was taken up. “Get her! Get her! Get her!” The Lady turned and fled, a roar of triumph following in her wake.
But the triumph was not for the Lady’s departure—it was for an unexpected arrival. In a cascade of black water, Simon Heap burst out of the Orm Tube with his son in his arms.
Halfway down the passage leading to the Heart of the Ways, the Lady bumped into her brother bounding back up. “Blocked!” he gasped. “Rockfall.”
“Oh no! What shall we do, Orrie?” his sister wailed.
“Clear it!” snapped Oraton-Marr. “Then meet me at the rendezvous.”
The Lady watched her brother spring away. It wasn’t fair, she thought. She always had to do the dirty work. Why was he Magykal and she wasn’t? Everyone seemed to have something special about them, even those grubby PathFinders. So why didn’t she? It just wasn’t fair.
EXTRAORDINARIES
On the SnowPlain above, a shimmer of purple light appeared at the foot of a tall cone of lapis lazuli and within it two figures—one in a purple fur cloak and matching beanie, the other in a shimmering multicolored cloak and some rather ratty purple python shoes—began to materialize. Marcia and Septimus had successfully managed their Transport.
The last flickers of purple evaporated and they took stock of where they were. Above them the magnificent Blue Pinnacle of the Eastern SnowPlain rose up, dark against the star-dusted sky, but all around them was destruction. The snow had become mud littered with huge piles of spoil, in the middle of which was a gaping hole in the ground from which a column of light blazed up into the sky. As the disconnection of the Transport slowly left Marcia and Septimus, they saw a tall, hunched shape come springing up from the light. It bounded away into the night in high, bouncing leaps.
“That’s him,” Marcia whispered. “That’s Oraton-Marr. Look at the way he’s moving. But I didn’t realize he was so hunched.”
“That’s not a hunch,” said Septimus, whose eyesight was much better than Marcia’s at night. “That’s the Orm Egg!”
“But how?” Even as she spoke, Marcia saw that Septimus was right.
“He’s not getting away with it,” Septimus said. “I’m going after him.”
Marcia stopped him. “No, Septimus. I’ll go. It’s too dangerous for you. You don’t have enough Magyk.”
Far below in the Chamber of the Orm, William Heap lay lifeless in his mother’s arms. Desperately, Simon tried to revive his son, but William’s lips were dark blue; his face was ice-cold and beginning to set like stone. Everyone looked on in horror. There was nothing they could do.
It was then that Tod remembered the whistle that Marcia had given her. She guessed that Marcia was still in her Keep, on the other side of the world, but there was nothing to be lost in calling her. And so Tod took out her silver whistle and blew.
A faint whistle came from beneath Marcia’s layers of fur under her cloak. She looked down in surprise.
“N
o, I’m going,” Septimus was telling Marcia impatiently. “Listen to you, you’re in no state to do anything—you’re wheezing with the cold. I’m going to get him.” And he was gone, racing across the snow, following the long, thin tracks of the spring blades. Another faint sound drifted up from beneath her cloak and Marcia at last remembered the silver whistle. With a jolt of fear, she realized that Tod was in trouble somewhere. But where? Marcia closed her eyes and tried to Feel where Tod might be.
And so it was that Marcia did not see Oraton-Marr stop and take a small Darke Dart from a holster he wore on his belt. She did not see him raise his hand and take aim at the young man in purple running toward him. Nor did she see Septimus stop, aware that something Darke had him in its sights.
But Marcia did feel something nudge her leg. Her eyes snapped open and she saw a panther, black as the night, crouched beside her. Its green eyes looked deep into hers and Marcia understood.
“Ullr,” she said. “Take me to Tod.”
Down in the Chamber of the Orm, Lucy was pleading. “Si, please . . . you have to do something. I don’t care what it is. Darke stuff or anything. But please, please do something.”
Simon was numb. He felt like his head was full of rock. He couldn’t think of anything at all.
Tod pushed through the crowd gathered around William. “Lucy, Lucy! Marcia can help!”
“But Marcia’s not here, is she?” Lucy said bitterly.
“On the contrary, Marcia is here,” a familiar voice said. “Stuck at the back of a crowd of nosy gawkers. Now get out of the way and let me through.” The anxious crowd around William parted and Marcia strode forward. She kneeled beside Lucy, placed her hand on William’s forehead and said quietly, “All will be well.”
Lucy looked at Marcia in disbelief—William lay heavy and cold in her arms, no longer part of the Living world.
But Tod understood what Marcia could do. She—along with everyone in the hushed Chamber of the Orm—watched as Marcia took a deep breath in, one that seemed to go on forever. She saw Marcia lean over William Heap’s ice-blue face and begin to breathe out a stream of pinkish air. It came, tumbling and curling around William, surrounding him in a soft, warm cloud. Slowly the pallor left William’s face, the stony set of his features relaxed and then, suddenly, William sat up. He coughed, spat out a mouthful of water and was promptly sick all down Lucy’s front.
Lucy looked up at Marcia with tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Marcia. Thank you forever.”
Marcia stood up. “He’ll be fine now. But excuse me. I have to go back and help Septimus.”
Simon sprang to his feet. “Is he in trouble?” he asked.
“Possibly,” said Marcia.
“I’ll come with you,” Simon said.
A DARKE DART
They found Septimus lying in the snow, hands outstretched. A red dart with black flights was stuck into the soft part of his right hand—the web between thumb and forefinger. His hand was black and swollen but the Dragon Ring on his finger glowed bright, keeping the Darke at bay as best it could. Around Septimus’s wrist was a tight purple band where the black stopped—he had used his old Senior Apprentice ribbon as a tourniquet.
“Marcia,” Septimus whispered. “It’s a Darke Dart. Take it out. I . . . can’t.”
Marcia looked at Septimus’s hand in dismay—streaks of black were already snaking beneath the purple band and flowing up his arm. Marcia knew it was not easy to remove a Darke Dart. The flights were razor-sharp and the point had a venomous barb on the end that would tear Septimus’s hand as it came out and spread the poison still farther. But Marcia also knew that Simon knew more about the Darke than she ever would. “Simon,” she asked, “can you do this?”
“Yeah,” said Simon. “I think I can.” He kneeled down beside Septimus. “Sep,” he said. “You must keep totally still. Okay?”
“Okay,” Septimus whispered.
From his Alchemie belt, Simon took out a tiny pair of wire cutters. “Marcia, I need you to hold the Dart steady. But be very careful. You know the flights are often poison-tipped?”
Marcia nodded. She cautiously closed her fingers around the body of the dart, well below the flights. Simon lay flat on the snow, squinting at Septimus’s hand. Very gingerly he placed the wire cutters around the point of the dart where it joined the body. Then, muttering something that neither Marcia nor Septimus recognized, he closed the wire cutters and cut through the point. Marcia threw the top of the Dart into the snow. The point of the Dart now stuck up through Septimus’s hand like a black spike.
“Right, Sep,” said Simon. “I’m going to hang on to the barb and Marcia will pull your hand straight up. Fast. Okay?”
“Yep,” said Septimus.
Concentrating hard, Simon took hold of the poisonous barb. Marcia gripped Septimus’s hand.
“Pull!” said Simon.
“Aaaargh!”
It was done. All that was left in the snow was the point of the Darke Dart surrounded by a pool of red. Septimus sat up blearily, clutching his hand. “I can’t see,” he groaned.
“Your hat’s slipped down, Sep,” said Simon, gently pulling up Septimus’s beanie. “And this belongs to you, little bro.” Simon slipped the Akhu Amulet over Septimus’s head so it lay around his brother’s neck once again. “Thank you, Sep. I will never forget. Never, ever.”
Septimus smiled. “And neither will I,” he said. “You saved my life.”
THE SNOW PALACE
As the sun rose on a new day, Snow Princess Driffa, the Most High and Bountiful, took her Snow Palace back under control. She found her elderly sisters hiding in a cave with the last of the Palace servants—all being driven to distraction by their one remaining sorcerer.
The four sisters now set to work. Soon a well-worn road of compacted snow ran between the Blue Pinnacle and the Palace, on which Driffa’s fleet of silver sleighs ran back and forth carrying the exhausted prisoners to sanctuary. Furs were found to keep people warm, beds were made in the guest rooms and fires were laid in the huge brick chimneys that snaked up through the rocks at the back of the Snow Palace. The cooks came out of hiding and got to work.
Leaving Tod and Dan to spend time together, Ferdie, Oskar, Torr and William explored the Snow Palace. They spent hours going from one ice tower to another, traveling the seemingly delicate—but very strong—bridges that joined them. It felt like traversing a huge, sparkling spiderweb, but the spider that had once lurked at the edge was gone.
At the front of the Snow Palace was a wide promenade bounded by ramparts that overlooked the vast SnowPlain hundreds of feet below. It was warmed by braziers of burning logs suspended over fire pits, and people gathered around these, talking contentedly. And when they were warm, they would wander to the ramparts and gaze out at the Plain, watching the progress of the sleighs, the sun glinting off their runners, going steadily back and forth, beginning the long, slow task of setting everything to rights.
It was beside one of the fire pits that the Sarns and the Heaps met Samuel Starr. Samuel had been locked away with many of the other prisoners in one of the Iglopuks, but he already knew every detail of the events in the Orm Chamber. “When I heard the Lady had fled, I knew it was something to do with you, Ferdie Sarn,” he said with a broad smile. “I always thought you were more than a match for her.”
“It wasn’t just me,” said Ferdie.
“It was all of them,” Rosie Sarn said. “But none of us would be here now, Samuel, if it had not been for your helping them to escape from that terrible ship. We can never thank you enough.”
Samuel bowed. “It was my pleasure,” he said.
William—dutifully wearing the fur jacket his mother had taken from the Fire Pit—chased off with Torr to explore. “William! Be careful!” Lucy called out anxiously.
“He’ll be fine, Lu,” Simon said soothingly.
But as Lucy watched her son go running across a slender bridge that climbed precipitously up to the tall
est tower, she knew that from now on she would always worry about William. She felt a sudden sympathy for Sarah Heap, with seven boys to fret about. Hand in hand, Lucy and Simon wandered along the promenade, Lucy stealing glances up at two small figures cavorting on the bridge. Entranced by the glittering scene, Lucy and Simon stopped to gaze at the the graceful towers of opalescent ice, tall and thin with pointed roofs, each one topped with an elegant blue-and-gold finial. The sun shone down on the frosted snow, for the Enchantment that kept the snow forever Frozen had not been destroyed here. As Simon looked up, Lucy caught a flash of blue in his right eye.
“Si,” she said. “Hold still. You’ve got something in your eye.”
Simon put his hand up to his eye. He had hoped Lucy wouldn’t notice—at least not until she stopped being so nervous. “I know I have,” he said. “It’s lapis. From the palimpsest of the Orm.”
“Well, let’s get it out, then,” Lucy said.
Simon shook his head. “No, Lu. It’s part of my eye now. The iris is solid lapis.”
The enormity of what Simon had done began to dawn on Lucy. “Can . . . can you still see through it?”
Simon shook his head. “No. But it was worth it, Lu. Worth it to get our William back. And I’ve still got one eye left.” He grinned and Lucy saw a glint of gold in his lapis-blue eye. It suited him. “Oh, Si . . .” she said.
Later that day, wrapped in Driffa’s best furs, Tod and Dan too were wandering the vast Snow Palace. Still in a daze from finding her father alive, Tod was reveling in the beauty surrounding them. From that day onward she would always feel a profound happiness in the presence of snow.
They followed strings of sparkling lights strung along the suspended walkways, explored delicate ice turrets suffused with deep blue shadows and took winding stairs of blue down into lapis caves where hot springs bubbled up, filling the air with steam and heat. And as they roamed, Dan told Tod about the day he disappeared.