Syren

Septimus raced away from the Peepe, wondering how long it would take the Wraith of the Syren to swirl up the escape stairs and come after him. He dived into the cover of the trees and immediately began a basic SafeShield - something that did not need too much concentration.



He topped it up with a Silent UnSeen and set off through the copse, hoping that the Syren did not have the ability to See the telltale signs of Magyk - as some Entities did. When he emerged on the other side of the trees, Septimus took a shorter, steeper path down the side of the hill that led to the cover of the dunes below. As he half ran, half slid down the side of the hill, Septimus could not get the image of Syrah sprawled in the water out of his head. It took him right back to the time he had seen a Young Army boy left for dead in the shallows of the river, and memories of Young Army exercises in the Night Forest began to haunt him. Besieged by his thoughts, Septimus made his way through the dunes and was startled when he stumbled into Jenna and Beetle - but not half as startled as they were.



"Argh!" shouted Jenna, swiping the air. "Beetle, help! There's something here! Get it, get it - oh! Sep, it's you. What are you doing?"



Septimus had very rapidly removed his UnSeen, but not before Beetle landed a swipe on his arm. "Ouch!" he yelped.



"Sep!" gasped Beetle. Then, seeing Septimus's expression, he asked with concern,



"Hey, what's up - it's...it's not Spit Fyre, is it?"



Septimus shook his head. At least that was one thing he did not have to worry about, thanks to Syrah.



Sitting in the sand dunes, watching the orange ball of the sun sink behind a strip of clouds on the horizon, outlining it with brilliant pinks and purples, Septimus told them what had happened.



At the end of his story there was silence. Then Jenna said, "That was a crazy thing to do, Sep, going into a creepy tower with that Syrah girl - or whatever she was. Some kind of island spirit, I suppose."



"Syrah's not an island spirit," said Septimus. "She is a real person."



"So why didn't she come and say hello to us like a real person would?" asked Jenna.



"Syrah is real," Septimus insisted. "You don't understand because you haven't met her."



"Well, I hope I don't," said Jenna with a shiver. "She sounds weird."



"She is not weird."



"Okay, no need to get cranky, Sep. I'm just so glad you got out of there, that's all. You were lucky."



"She wasn't," muttered Septimus, staring at his feet. Jenna shot Beetle a glance as if to say, What do you think? Beetle shook his head imperceptibly. He really didn't know what to make of Septimus's story - and in particular the description of the Ice Tunnel hatch. Beetle cast his mind back to the previous week in the Manuscriptorium Vaults, when Marcia had allowed him to see the Live Plan of the Ice Tunnels - or had she? He knew he hadn't seen an Ice Tunnel going out under the sea - he would have remembered that. But Beetle also knew that the fact that he hadn't seen it did not mean anything; Marcia could easily have Obscured some of the information. Everyone in the Manuscriptorium knew that the ExtraOrdinary Wizard only showed you what she wanted you to see. But, even so, he found it hard to believe.



"You sure it was an Ice Tunnel hatch, Sep?" he asked. "They're not usually that big."



"I know that, Beetle," Septimus snapped. "And I also know an Ice Tunnel hatch when I see one."



"But an Ice Tunnel out here...it's an awful long way from the Castle," said Jenna. "It would have to come all the way under the sea."



"Yes, I have thought of that," said Septimus. "I'm not making this up, you know."



"No, of course you're not," said Beetle hastily. "But things aren't always what they seem."



"Especially on an island," added Jenna.



Septimus had had enough. He stood up, brushed the sand off his tunic and said, "I'm going back to see Spit Fyre. He's been on his own all afternoon."



Jenna and Beetle got up. "We'll come too," they said together, and then grinned at each other, much to Septimus's irritation.



A movement out at the Pinnacle suddenly caught their attention. They ducked into the dunes once more and peered out. The Marauder was on the move. They lay in the sand and watched it go, but the boat did not, as they hoped, head safely out to sea. Instead it turned to the right and took a course along the island, heading around the rocks that ran from Spit Fyre's hideout. The Marauder was a fine-looking boat, despite those who sailed her, and she made a lyrical picture silhouetted against the darkening sky lit with the first few stars.



"This island is such a beautiful place," said Beetle with a sigh as he watched the Marauder finally disappear behind the rocks. "It's so difficult to believe that anything bad could happen here."



"There's a Young Army saying," said Septimus. "'Beauty Lures the Stranger More Easily into Danger.'"



Night had fallen and the Light shone like a tiny, brilliant moon. As Septimus, Jenna and Beetle emerged from their hiding place and began their walk along the beach, they did not see a new arrival at the base of the Pinnacle. A long red capsule rose from the water, flipped open a hatch and disgorged three bedraggled figures. The smaller figure swarmed up the Pinnacle like a large bat and settled itself beside the Sphere of Light. If anyone had turned back and looked, he or she might have seen the tiny black shape of Miarr outlined against the glowing white ball, but no one did. The Light was something they all instinctively avoided looking at. It was achingly bright.



It was tough going on the beach. Septimus insisted that they walk in the soft sand under the cover of the sand dunes, and he also insisted that Jenna and Beetle go first.



"Can't we walk on the sand farther down?" asked Jenna. "It would be so much easier."



"Too exposed," said Septimus.



"But it's getting dark now. No one can see us."



"They could on the beach. Figures stand out on a beach. It's an empty space."



"I suppose there's a Young Army saying for that too."



"'A Lone Tree Is Easy to See.'"



"There were some really bad poets in the Young Army."



"There's no need to be so critical, Jen."



Jenna and Beetle stumbled on, followed by Septimus, who, Beetle noticed whenever he glanced back, seemed to be walking in an oddly crablike way. "You all right?" asked Beetle.



"Fine," Septimus replied.



They drew near to the rocks that bordered what they thought of as their bay. Jenna was about to jump onto them when Septimus stopped her.



"No," he said. "The Syren - she'll see us."



Jenna was tired and snappy. "How can she, Sep? We can't see the tower thingy from here, so she can't see us."



"Besides, with a Dwelling Possession Wraith, it's not a problem," said Beetle.



"Unless we're crazy enough to go into the tower."



"She said she'd come and find me, Beetle," said Septimus. "You weren't there."



"I know, but...well, think about it, Sep. I figure it - and it is an 'it,' not a 'she' - I figure it meant it would come and get you in the tower. It thought you were trapped there - right? It didn't know you knew how to get out. So it's probably zooming around right now looking for you. Or maybe it's given up and gone back to - "



"Just shut up, Beetle. Okay?" Septimus snapped. He couldn't bear to think of the Syren going back to Syrah.



"Yeah, okay, Sep. It's been a tough day, I can see that."



Septimus knew that what Beetle said made sense, but he could not get rid of a growing sense of threat. The fact remained that he had failed to do what Syrah had asked of him. The Ice Tunnel was still UnSealed, and something told him that Syrah's talk of the threat to the Castle meant more than just an UnSealed Ice Tunnel hatch. But he didn't see how he could make Jenna and Beetle understand. So all he said was, "I don't care. We are not going over the rocks - it is too exposed. We go into the dunes single file under battle silence - "



"Battle silence?" Beetle sounded incredulous.



"Shh! This is serious - as serious as any Do-or-Die exercise in the Forest. Okay?"



"No, but I don't suppose it matters. It looks like you've pretty much decided to be Chief Cadet," Beetle observed.



"Someone has to be," Septimus replied. He had never admitted it to himself while he was in the Young Army, but he had always harbored a sneaking ambition to make it to Chief Cadet. "You go first, men," he said, getting into role.



"Men?" Jenna objected.



"You can be a man too, Jen."



"Oh, great. Thank you so much, Sep." Jenna made a face at Beetle, who grimaced in return.



"But - " Beetle began.



"Shh."



"No, you listen to me, Sep," said Beetle. "This is important. If you're so convinced that the Possession Wraith is going to come out and find you, I think you've forgotten something. All it has to do is follow our footprints and then later, when we are all asleep in our hideout..."



Jenna shuddered. "Beetle -  don't."



"Sorry." Beetle looked abashed.



"There aren't any footprints to follow," said Septimus. "That's why I'm going last. To scruffle them."



"To what?" asked Beetle and Jenna.



"Technical term."



"Scruffle - a technical term?" said Beetle, half laughing. But Septimus was deadly serious. "It's a Young Army thing."



"Thought it might be," muttered Beetle.



"It's the way you move your feet in the sand. Look, like this - " Septimus demonstrated his crablike shuffle. "See, you scruffle them. If you do it properly, it makes it impossible for anyone to pick out your footsteps, but only in soft sand. It doesn't work in firmer sand, obviously."



"Obviously."



Jenna and Beetle set off into the dunes with Septimus behind them. He directed them to a path that was deep and narrow, like a miniature canyon. It was fringed at the top with the coarse grass of the dunes, which arched protectively above their heads and formed a secluded tunnel. Sheltered from the brightness of the Light, Septimus's Dragon Ring began to glow, and he pulled his purple-banded sleeves down to hide it. Septimus was pleased with his choice. The path took them parallel to their beach, and led to a spot just before the hideout. By the time they emerged, the sky was sprinkled with stars and the high tide was on the turn. They headed straight for Spit Fyre. The dragon was sleeping a healthy, gently snoring, dragon sleep. Jenna patted his soft, warm nose and Beetle commented favorably on the bucket. Then, a little fearfully, everyone went to look at his tail. At once they knew it was all right; the tail no longer stuck straight out like a felled tree but now curved gently in its usual way - and it smelled fine. A faint scent of peppermint still hung in the air, which reminded Septimus of Syrah. A feeling of sadness swept over him at the thought of her.



"I'll just sit with Spit Fyre a while," he said to Jenna and Beetle. "Okay?"



Beetle nodded. "We'll go and fix some WizDri," he said. "You come down when you're ready."



Septimus sat down wearily against Spit Fyre's neck, which was still warm from the sun. He reached into his pocket and took out the little water-stained book that Syrah had given him and he began to read. It didn't make him feel any better. While Beetle tended an improbable combination of WizDri in a pan on the FlickFyre stove, Jenna sat and watched the tide creep slowly out. Her thoughts drifted to Nicko. She wondered if the Cerys had set sail. She imagined Nicko at the massive mahogany wheel, in charge of the beautiful ship, and a little twinge of regret crept into her mind. She would like to be standing on deck with Nicko, spending time with him as her big brother once more, just like it used to be, and then going below to sleep in her beautiful, comfortable, sand-free cabin. Jenna remembered the tiny gold crown that Milo had painted on her cabin door and smiled. The crown had embarrassed her at the time, but now she saw that Milo had done it because he was proud of her. Jenna sighed. She felt badly about the way she had behaved...maybe she shouldn't have left like she did. Beetle heard the sigh. "Missing Nicko?" he asked.



Jenna was surprised that Beetle had guessed her thoughts.



Septimus appeared. "Quiet, Beetle," he said. "This is a silent camp."



Beetle looked up. "A what?" he said.



"Silent camp. No noise. No talking. Hand signals only. Got that?"



"It's gone to your head, Sep. You want to be careful."



"What's gone to my head?"



"Your Chief Cadet thing. It's not real, you know."



"Beetle, this is not a picnic," hissed Septimus.



"Oh, give us a break, Sep," Beetle snapped. "You're making mountains out of molehills. You meet a spirit on the beach who can do Magyk and you come back with the weirdest story anyone's ever heard. If you ask me, she Enchanted you and put it all into your head. Or you fell asleep and dreamed it."



"Oh, really?" Septimus reached into his pocket and drew out Syrah's journal. "You read that and then tell me I dreamed it."