“I brought your basket,” said Beetle, setting it down on the floor.
Ephaniah started and turned to greet them. Both Beetle and Jenna braced themselves for the sight of the rat face, but this time Ephaniah was swaddled in his wraps and all they saw were his green eyes, hugely magnified behind their bottle-glass spectacles. The Conservation Scribe made a low squeaking noise and beckoned them over. He handed them a piece of paper. On it was written: I have succeeded in ReUniting all papers bar one.
Ephaniah waved his hand toward a neatly stacked pile of papers on a shelf behind him.
“Well, look at those,” said Beetle, trying to cheer up Jenna. “They’re all back together. There’s only one missing—that’s not bad, is it? I bet the missing piece is one of those boat doodles, there were lots of those. Chances are it won’t be important, just a scribble.”
Jenna was about to say that all of Nicko’s scribbles were important to her when Ephaniah placed another piece of paper in front of them:
I have strengthened all the papers but for future safekeeping I should like to bind them. Do I have your permission?
Jenna nodded.
Ephaniah’s eyes smiled—this was a job he loved. From a drawer in the table he took two thick pieces of card, covered in the new Jillie Djinn rebranding reddish purple Manuscriptorium cloth. Taking an eyelet punch, he made five holes down one side of each card and then picked up the sheaf of ReUnited papers and sandwiched them between them. Now Ephaniah took a long length of blue ribbon and deftly laced the covers together so that Nicko’s notes and jottings were now safely bound between the thick red card. Next the Conservation Scribe tied the corners together with yet more ribbon; then with a final flourish he produced a large stamp and thumped it down onto the cloth. When he lifted the stamp the words CONSERVED, CHECKED AND GUARANTEED BY EPHANIAH GREBE were imprinted in gold on the red.
With his white wraps wrinkling as though underneath them his rat whiskers were twitching with a smile, the Conservation Scribe proudly handed the beautifully bound papers to Jenna. “Oh…thank you,” she breathed. Now at last she had Nicko’s papers back in her hands; Jenna felt a huge sense of relief. Everything was going to be all right. She would go to see Sep, they would look at the map together and figure out how to get to the House of Foryx, and then they would go and get Nicko back. Her thoughts running far ahead, Jenna found herself wondering if she could persuade Jillie Djinn to give Beetle some time off—it would be great if Beetle could come with them too. Just as Jenna was planning what she would say to Miss Djinn when she refused to let Beetle go, Beetle’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Have you seen what’s missing?” he asked anxiously.
“Missing?” Jenna came down to earth with a bump.
“Yes. The one that wouldn’t ReUnite. Which one was that?”
“Oh.” Jenna opened Ephaniah’s beautifully bound book and began to leaf through the papers, which were now clean and strong, the writing clear and unsmudged with no signs of any joins—the Conservation Scribe had done a wonderful job.
There were many things Jenna had not seen—lists for food supplies, clothing, a messed-up application for two travel permits, numerous to-do lists and several urgent must-do lists. Then there were the things she remembered seeing in Marcellus’s attic—the boat doodles, the knot diagrams, the winter market list, the games that Nicko and Snorri had played. They were all there except for one thing—the map.
Jenna looked at the mess on the table in despair. Tears pricked the back of her eyelids as she took in the fact that the key to finding Nicko lay strewn in a thousand pieces in front of them, with a memo beside it in Ephaniah’s neat hand: Incomplete.
Ephaniah had seen Jenna’s expression and was hastily scribbling: All is not lost. Maybe a Seek can be done for the missing piece. Ask EOW.
“Who is Eow?” asked Jenna.
Ephaniah picked up his pen again, but Beetle said, “ExtraOrdinary Wizard. It’s the shorthand we use here. Like CHS is Chief Hermetic Scribe or GFOAIC—that’s me. But nobody uses it because it’s shorter to say Beetle.”
“GFOAIC?” asked Jenna.
“General Front Office and Inspection Clerk.”
“Ah,” said Jenna. “Well, GFOAIC, would you come with me to find Marcia…please? She might listen to two of us.”
She turned to Ephaniah and said, “Thank you, Mr. Grebe. Thank you for giving me back Nicko’s things.” She clutched the beautifully bound book close to her.
Ephaniah nodded and produced a neatly written card, which he presented to Jenna with a flourish: I have enjoyed your visits very much, Princess. I would be honored to see you again and hope I may be of service in the future.
Jenna smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Grebe. I shall be back very soon with the EOW, and then you can do the final ReUnite,”
she said, sounding much more confident than she felt.
21
TERTIUS FUME
J enna and Beetle left
the bright lights of Ephaniah’s realm and stumbled out into the darkness of the Manuscriptorium basement.
“I’ve got to check to see if the Vaults are secure and do the LockUp, but it won’t take long,” said Beetle.
Jenna was longing to rush and get Marcia but she realized that Beetle had a job to do. “I’ll come and help you check the Vaults if you like,” she offered.
Beetle did like—very much. “Okay. Yep. Fine,” he said, trying not to sound too pleased but overdoing it a little.
“But I don’t want to get in the way.”
“No! I mean no, of course you won’t get in the way.”
Jenna followed Beetle along the musty-smelling passageway that wound its way down to the Vaults, which were dug deep into the bedrock of the Castle below the cellars. As they reached the last turn of the passageway, the sound of voices could be heard—one of which had a low, booming resonance that Beetle knew was Tertius Fume. It was the other voice that surprised him. Beetle put his finger to his lips and began to move quietly. Jenna cast him a questioning glance.
“Trouble,” Beetle mouthed in reply. He slipped into an alcove at the top of the steep flight of steps that led down to the Vaults. Jenna joined him. Beetle’s heart was pounding so fast that at first he could not hear what the voices were saying.
He took a few deep breaths and made himself calm down.
“Who is it?” mouthed Jenna.
Beetle risked a quick glance. It was exactly who he had thought it was. Sitting sprawled on the bottom step half hidden in the dancing shadows cast by the pair of rushlights outside the Vaults was Jillie Djinn’s brand-new employee, gazing with rapt attention at the Ghost of the Vaults. The sound of the conversation drifted up the steps, the voices sounding hollow in the empty brick-lined passage.
“Of course
it is difficult, boy.” Tertius Fume’s voice reverberated up to the two eavesdroppers in the alcove. The ghost sounded cranky. “That is why it is at the end of the book. You are meant to have done what goes before.”
“But I didn’t want to do them. I only wanted to do the end one.”
“Practice perfect makes. A fool the shortcut takes,” Tertius responded.
“But I did everything it said—and it worked. I even got the Thing. In fact I got stacks of Things.”
“Stacks? What is stacks?”
“Lots. Lots and lots. Um…many.”
“Many? How many?”
“I dunno. About twenty, maybe more.”
“Twenty Things ? Thou art more a fool than I took you for. They will dog thy life forever more.”
“No, they won’t. I locked ’em up. They can’t get me now.”
“Did you indeed? Then how angry they will truly be, when next they catch a sight of thee.”
“Do you always talk in rhymes?”
“Yes. Now what do you want, boy? I am tired of this chatter.”
“I wanted to ask you about the Darkening the Destiny thingy.”
“Thingy?”
“I mean the Darke
Hex. I did it on someone but I don’t think it has worked. Nothing has happened to him yet and I’m sure I would have heard if it had.”
Tertius Fume sounded amused and somewhat mocking. “So you’ve tried to Darken AnOther’s Destiny, have you?” he asked. “And why would a young snake like you want to embark upon such a Darke journey, hmm? When I was your age I’d have chanced my luck with a sharp blade first. Much more satisfying.” The ghost chuckled as though reliving fond memories.