Enthralled, for she loved rich cloth, Jenna wandered around the room, running her fingers over the robes and exclaiming, “These are so soft, Sep ... oh, feel this one, the silk is so fine ... and look at this fur trim, that's even better than Marcia's winter cloak, isn't it?” Jenna had lifted a fine woolen cloak from a silver hook embedded with emeralds and twisted into the shape of a J. She slipped it over her shoulders; it was a beautiful cloak, soft and flowing, edged with a dark red fur trim. It fit her perfectly. Unwilling to put it back on its lonely hook, Jenna fastened the gold clasp and wrapped the cloak around her. It reminded her of Lucy Gringe's blue cloak that Jenna had worn not so long ago, and had recently given to a very surprised Lucy.
“Look, it fits me perfectly. It's as if it were made for me. And see, Nicko's present is just right.” Jenna had fastened the cloak with her gold pin, also in the shape of a J, which Nicko had bought from a merchant in the Port and given to her for her last birthday.
“Very nice, Jen,” said Septimus, who did not find clothes the least bit interesting and thought the Robing Room a little oppressive. “Look, hadn't you better show me whatever it was you wanted to?”
Jenna came back to earth with a jolt. For a few moments she had forgotten all about the wretched Queen Etheldredda. She pointed at the dark looking glass. “That's it, Sep. Now you have to look in it. That's what I promised.”
Septimus looked wary. “Promised who?”
“Queen Etheldredda,” Jenna whispered miserably. “Last night. She was waiting for me outside the door.”
“Oh,” Septimus muttered, “I see. But weird things can happen with looking glasses, Jen. Especially old ones. I don't think I should do this.”
“Please, Sep,” Jenna pleaded. “Please look in it. Please. ”
“Why?” Septimus saw a look of panic on Jenna's face. “Jen—what's the matter?”
“Because if you don't, she'll...”
“She'll what?”
Jenna looked white. “She'll Reverse the Reclaime. At midnight. You'll drown at midnight tonight.”
11
The Glass
Septimus stood warily in front of the looking glass, deliberately avoiding it by staring at his boots. He remembered Alther telling him how he had once looked in a Glass and seen a Spectre Waiting for him. He was afraid he might be about to see the same thing. “How does she know whether I've looked into the Glass or not?” he asked.
“I don't know,” Jenna said, unhappily twisting the red fur trim on her new cloak. “I didn't ask. I was so scared that she would reverse the Reclaime that I just told her I would make sure you did it.”
“Did she say why I had to?”
“No. She wouldn't say. She was just so ... threatening. It was horrible. Can she really do what she said, Sep? Can she really reverse the Reclaime?”
Septimus angrily scuffed his boots on the marble. “Yes, she can, Jen. Within twenty-four hours, if she's skilled at it, which I bet she is. I bet she's done it lots of times before. Rescued some poor person and then held them ransom.”
“She's horrible,” muttered Jenna. “I hate her.”
“Marcia says you shouldn't hate anyone,” Septimus said. “She says first you should stand in their shoes before you judge them.”
“Marcia wouldn't stand in anyone else's shoes,” Jenna said with a wry smile, “unless they were pointy purple python skin with dinky little gold buttons.”
Septimus laughed and then fell silent. So did Jenna. Both felt their gazes drawn toward the Glass but neither looked at it. Suddenly Septimus blurted out, “I'm going to look in it now, Jen.”
“Now?” Jenna's voice rose up a pitch.
“Yes. Get it over with. After all, what's the worst that can happen? I might see a horrible old Spectre or Thing, but that's all. What you see can't hurt you, can it?”
“No. I suppose not...” Jenna sounded unconvinced.
"So I'll do it now. You go back up to the cupboard and I'll be up in a moment.
Okay?"
“No, I'm not leaving you here on your own,” protested Jenna.
“But if there is a Spectre Waiting for me, Jen, you mustn't see it. It will Haunt you too. I know what to do about Spectres and you don't.”
“But—” Jenna hesitated.
“Go on, Jen. Please.” Septimus flashed Jenna a smile. “Go on.”
Jenna reluctantly started up the silver stairs to the potions cupboard. Once she was safely out of the Robing Room, Septimus took a deep breath to steady his nerves.
Then he looked into the Glass.
At first he could see nothing. The Glass was dark, like a deep marsh pool. Septimus leaned closer, wondering why he could not see his own reflection and, despite doing his best not to, imagining all kinds of horrible Spectres at his shoulder, Waiting for him.
“Are you okay? Have you looked into the Glass yet?” Jenna's voice came from the cupboard.
“Um ... yes. I'm looking now...”
“What can you see?”
“Nothing ... nothing ... it's just dark ... oh, wait ... I can see something now ... it—it's weird ... an old man ... staring at me. He looks kind of surprised.”
“An old man?” asked Jenna.
“Oh, that's odd...”
“What?” Jenna sounded worried.
“Well, if I raise my right hand he does too. And if I frown, he frowns too.”
“Like your reflection would?”
“Well, yes. Oh, I know what it is—it's one of those Yet-to-Come Glasses. They were very popular in the old days. Traveling fairs used to bring them. They show you what you're going to look like just before you die.”
“That's horrible, Sep,” Jenna called down.
“Yeah. Don't ever want to look like that. Ugh. Oh, look, if I stick out my tongue, he— hey! ”
“What?” Jenna could bear it no longer. She hurtled down the steps and arrived in the Robing Room just in time to see Septimus spring back from the Glass, slip on the shiny marble floor and fall. As he scrabbled to get up and away, Jenna screamed.
Reaching out of the Glass were two old, wizened hands. With long bony fingers and curved yellow nails, they snatched at Septimus's tunic, grabbed hold of it, then wrapped themselves around his Apprentice belt, dragging him toward the Glass.
Frantically Septimus tried to pull away, kicking out at the clutching talons.
“Jen! Help, Je—” he yelled, and then there was silence. Septimus's head had disappeared into the Glass as though sinking into a pool of ink.
Jenna ran down the steps and skidded across the floor, horrified at seeing Septimus's shoulders rapidly disappearing into the Glass. She leaped forward, grabbed his feet and pulled with all her strength. Slowly, slowly Septimus began to come out of the Glass. Jenna hung on like a dog with a bone, determined never, ever, to let go of Septimus. Little by little, as if emerging from one of the black Marram Marsh pools, Septimus's head broke free. He twisted around and yelled, “Careful, Jen! Don't let him get you!”
Jenna glanced up and saw a face that stayed with her for the rest of her life. It was the face of an old man—an ancient man—with a great long nose and sunken, staring eyes that looked at Jenna with surprise, as if he knew her. Long wisps of yellowish white hair hung down and caught over his enormous old ears. His mouth, which contained three great tombstone teeth, was fixed in a wide grimace of concentration as he tried to pull Septimus away from her. Then, suddenly, with a tremendous heave, he succeeded. Septimus shot through the Glass and Jenna was left alone in the Robing Room, staring in disbelief at all that was left of Septimus—his old brown boots, empty in her hands.
With toes stubbed from kicking the Glass and her throat sore from screaming at it to give Septimus back, Jenna fled up the steps, clutching Septimus's boots. Once she was safely in the Unstable Potions and Partikular Poisons cupboard, she slammed the trapdoor closed and opened the bottom drawer under the empty shelves. She heard the familiar metallic click, and then, trying to catch her breath, Jenna waited impatiently until something in the cupboard shifted and she smelled the familiar scent of cabbages cooking.
Jenna pushed open the door and stepped out into Aunt Zelda's cottage.
“Oi!” A startled voice came from the rug beside the fire. A boy with long matted hair, wearing a simple brown tunic fastened with an old leather belt, leaped to his feet with a look of alarm. On seeing Jenna, Wolf Boy relaxed and said, “Hey, it's you again. Can't keep away, huh?” And then, noticing Jenna's expression: “Jenna, what's the matter?”