"It must have hurt swallowing that," he said.
Simon, however, was not surprised. When Merrin had been Simon's assistant at the Observatory he had swallowed a variety of metal objects. But that was not a time in his life Simon wanted to remember - or wanted Septimus to remember either. So he said nothing.
At their feet Merrin stirred. "Give it back," he moaned weakly. "It's mine."
Both Septimus and Simon ignored him.
Simon looked at the disc lying in Septimus's palm. "It's the Paired Code!" he said excitedly. "We must get this to Marcia at once."
Septimus did not like the sound of "we." "I'll take it," he said, putting the disc into his Apprentice belt.
"But I know how to use it," protested Simon.
Septimus was dismissive. "So does Marcia," he said.
"How can she? She doesn't know where to begin." Simon sounded exasperated.
"Of course she does," snapped Septimus.
The sound of running footsteps broke up the argument. Sarah, Sally and Marcellus were racing down to the New Quay. Not wishing to become embroiled in a reunion just then, Septimus gave them a hasty wave and, clutching the Paired Code, he ran off toward Spit Fyre, who looked triumphant. He had won his first fight. He was now a fully fledged, adult dragon.
A few seconds later Septimus and Spit Fyre were airborne. Drops of dragon blood marked their flight path all the way to the Wizard Tower.
Speechless with frustration, Simon watched Spit Fyre and his pilot disappear up over the Darke Fog.
"Simon." Sarah gently touched his arm. "Simon love, you're frozen. Come inside. Sally's got the fire lit."
Simon felt grateful that she hadn't even mentioned Septimus. He looked at his mother, who was herself shivering despite one of Sally's blankets thrown around her shoulders. He felt so sad for her, but right then there was nothing he could do about it - except what he was about to do.
"I'm sorry, Mum," he said gently, "I can't. I've got to go. You go back with Sally. Tell Lucy I . . . I'll see you all later." And he walked briskly away, striding up the well-worn path to the South Gate.
Sarah watched him go without a protest, which worried Sally. Sarah seemed defeated, she thought. Sally led her friend back to the cafe and sat her down beside the fire. Nicko, Lucy, Rupert and Maggie gathered around her but Sarah neither moved nor spoke for the rest of the night.
Marcellus Pye put the shivering, bedraggled Merrin in one of Sally's more dismal, windowless bunkhouses with a pile of dry blankets. As he went to lock the door his prisoner glared at him.
"L-Loser!" Merrin spat, his nose streaming as his cold returned with a vengeance. "Your st-stupid little key won't keep m-me in." He jabbed his left thumb at Marcellus. The green faces on the Two-Faced Ring shone malevolently. "H-He who wears this is indestructible. Atchoo! I wear it, therefore I am indestructible. I can do what I like. B-Buckethead!"
Marcellus did not deign to reply. He closed the door and locked it. He looked at Sally's flimsy tin key and reflected that even without the power of the Two-Faced Ring, Merrin could probably get out - but for the moment, freezing cold and in shock from nearly drowning, he didn't think Merrin was in a state to do anything.
On the chilly footpath outside the bunkhouse, Marcellus kept guard, pacing up and down to keep warm, his shoes flip-flapping on the frosty stone. Over and over again Merrin's defiant words came back to him. Unlike much of what Merrin said, they were true. While he wore the Ring, Marcellus knew that Merrin himself was indeed indestructible - and free to wreak havoc. There was no doubt in Marcellus's mind that while Merrin had the ring, the Castle and all who lived there were in grave danger.
Marcellus thought of the shivering, sniffling boy alone in the bunkhouse. A feeling of pity flashed through him but he pushed it to one side. He made himself remember the Two-Faced Ring glinting on the taunting thumb and he knew that as soon as Merrin recovered he would be wreaking revenge. There was little time to lose - something had to be done. Fast. Now.
Marcellus walked briskly up the steps to the Tea and Ale House. He wondered how sharp Sally's kitchen knives were . . .
Chapter 47 The Great UnDoing
Marcia was about to put the Paired Code together. Her tiny study was packed and the atmosphere was electric. Even Nicko, who was not hugely interested in Magyk, was watching intently.
The tiny study window glowed an eerie red with the dimming of the SafeShield, but the study itself was bright with the light from a forest of candles dripping from a tall candelabrum set on Marcia's desk. Two books - The Undoing of the Darkenesse and The Darke Index - lay open on Marcia's desk. In the shadow of the books a small silver box and a tiny silver disc rested on a piece of purple velvet.
Alther had a bird's-eye view. To avoid the danger of being Passed Through, the ghost was sitting on the top step of a library ladder. He was watching the process with great interest. The use of the Paired Code was something Alther had known about in theory only. In his time as ExtraOrdinary Wizard both books that held the keys to deciphering the Code had long been lost. Marcia had found The Undoing of the Darkenesse in Aunt Zelda's cottage a few years back and she knew that somewhere within its pages lay The Great UnDoing - the legendary Anti-Darke incantation that practitioners of the Darke feared above all else. But its words were spread randomly throughout the book; to find them, the index to the book - The Darke Index - was required.
However, it was not that simple. Uncovering The Great UnDoing required more than merely using an index - it required using the correct pages of the index. This was where the Paired Code came in. In order to know which sections of The Darke Index gave the right sequence of page and word numbers in The Undoing of the Darkenesse, the Paired Code had to be read. Correctly.
And now that was about to happen. Under the rapt attention of Silas, Septimus, Jenna and Nicko - and the perching Alther - Marcia began to put the Paired Code together.
Marcia lifted out the Wizard Tower half of the Code and placed it on the velvet square on which its Pair - recently used to much less salubrious surroundings - lay waiting. She picked up the much smaller Manuscriptorium Code and placed its boss into the central indentation of the Wizard Tower Code. There was a brilliant blue spark and suddenly the Manuscriptorium Code was floating a fraction of a millimeter above the Wizard Tower Code. The Manuscriptorium Code now began to spin. Slowly at first, then faster and faster it went until it was no more than a flash of spinning light. There was a sharp click and the spinning disc stopped dead.
Everyone craned their heads for a closer look. The discs seemed to have fused into one and it was clear that the lines that radiated out from the Manuscriptorium Code joined up with some of those on the Wizard Tower Code. Each one of these led to a symbol. There was an awed hush. These were the symbols that would begin The Great UnDoing that would UnDo the Darke Domaine and set the Castle free.
Marcia got out her Enlarging Glass and peered at the symbols.
"Ready, Septimus?" she asked.
In his hand Septimus had his precious Apprentice diary, his pen poised at the top of a clean page. "Ready," he said.
The red glow from the failing SafeShield was beginning to fill the study, drowning out the candlelight. It fell on the smooth, blank page of Septimus's diary and cast threatening shadows across the room. Septimus knew it would not be long before the SafeShield was breached - it could happen any minute now, he thought. He waited, poised to write down the sequence of symbols that would lead them to The Great UnDoing. Why didn't Marcia begin reading out the symbols? There was no time to lose.
Jenna had guessed why but she hoped - desperately - that she was wrong. Unable to bear the suspense, she decided to test out her new Right to Know.
"But Marcia, how do you know which symbol to start with?"
Aware that she now had to answer all the Princess-in-Waiting's questions "truthfully, fully and without delay," Marcia looked up at Jenna and met her gaze.
"I don't," she said.
The little room fell horribly quiet as the implications of Marcia's reply sank in.
Simon pushed his way through the Darke Fog, terrified that at any moment a Thing would recognize him. He'd been lucky on the South Gate. The Thing on guard had done no more than stretch out a bony arm and pull him in without even looking at him. He knew he might not be so lucky next time. Simon wished that Lucy had not made him throw away his Darke Robes - "disgusting old things," she had called them. Right now he could have used them. Without their protection, the Darke Fog was suffocating - far worse than it had been in the Palace when it was still new. Now it had gained strength from all those it had overcome and it pressed down on Simon like a smothering pillow, closing off his ears and eyes, making each breath a huge effort.