Fyre Page 116


Julius did not know the exact words of the Committal, but he knew the pattern that ancient Incantations took, and he could tell that Jenna was now heading toward the end. But both he and Beetle could also tell that the Heaps were nearing the end of their strength. Silently they urged Jenna on, Julius waiting for the Keystone word that would signal the beginning of the end of the Committal and render the Wizards powerless. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard ghost knew all 343 possible Keystone words and, increasingly anxiously, he waited for one of them.

Suddenly, Jenna stopped speaking. Julius waited for her to continue—it was dangerous to pause for too long. But Jenna stayed silent and Julius realized with horror that Jenna thought she had finished.

The Heaps’ eyes began to roll.

Jenna waited for the Committal to work.

The Heaps’ fists began to clench.

Julius Pike could stand it no longer. “Run!” he yelled. “For pity’s sake—run!”

Beetle grabbed Jenna’s hand and pulled her away. Jenna looked shocked. It hadn’t worked. It hadn’t worked. Why? She had remembered every word right. She knew she had.

To the accompaniment of groans from Edmund and Ernold, Beetle and Jenna tore up the seemingly endless steps. It was like one of Beetle’s nightmares. He ran as fast as he could, aware that he and Jenna were in full view of the Wizards, presenting what must have been the easiest target they had ever had. At any moment he expected them to be felled by a Thunderflash or worse. Up, up they ran, and suddenly they were at the top, around the corner and leaning breathless against the wall.

“Breath . . . back,” panted Jenna, cramming her circlet back on her head.

Beetle nodded, unable to speak. He had the most terrible stitch in his side. As he fought for breath, Jenna peered around the corner. She turned back and grinned, holding her arms out and making pincer movements with her hands.

Down in the doorway, two giant scorpion claws held Edmund and Ernold Heap prisoner; beside them lay two snapped Volatile Wands.

Beetle and Jenna crashed into the Manuscriptorium. “Foxy, get everyone out!” Beetle yelled.

Foxy didn’t need telling twice. Thirty seconds later Marissa, Partridge, Romilly and Moira Mole were outside. “I’m taking Jenna to the Wizard Tower for her own safety,” said Beetle. “I suggest you all come too.”

“Forget it,” snapped Marissa. “I’ve got better things to do,” and she headed off to Gothyk Grotto.

Beetle headed up Wizard Way, pulling Jenna behind him. “Beetle, wait,” said Jenna, who had seen Septimus and Marcia hurrying up Wizard Way. “There’s Sep and Marcia. We have to tell them.”

“No!” said Beetle. “It’s not safe.”

“I’ll tell them,” said Foxy, determined to be brave. “You go on ahead.”

“We’ll all tell them,” said Partridge. “Come on, Foxy.”

As Jenna and Beetle hurtled through the Great Arch they overtook the ghost of Alther Mella, who was herding Merrin and Nursie across the Courtyard in the manner of a shepherd rounding up two particularly stupid sheep. He watched Jenna and Beetle disappear into the Wizard Tower and heard hurried footsteps behind him. Moments later Marcia and Septimus, along with an assortment of scribes, came pounding through the Great Arch. As soon as they were in, Marcia took off her amulet and pressed it into a small indentation beside the Arch. The pitted old Barricade came rumbling down through the middle of the Great Arch, Sealing the Courtyard.

Edmund and Ernold Heap dragged themselves up the long, steep steps from the Vaults. Behind them lay a badly damaged scorpion, its pincers mangled and burned.

The Ring Wizards were becoming angry—their hosts were putting up much more of a fight than they had expected. What the Wizards had not accounted for was that Edmund and Ernold Heap were identical twins. All through the nightmarish trek along the Bolt, if one weakened the other encouraged him onward; in this way the Heaps had managed to keep going far longer than would have been possible if two unrelated Wizards had been InHabited. But the Heap twins had used their very last ounce of energy in protecting Jenna and now, as they fell out of the concealed door and ricocheted through the desks of the Manuscriptorium like two slow-motion pinballs, they were at the end of their endurance—and the Ring Wizards were at the end of their patience. The twins were hurled through the flimsy door that separated the Manuscriptorium from the Front Office, smashed into the stacks of papers piled up by the window and thrown through the front window.

Edmund and Ernold Heap lay crumpled on the pavement in front of the Manuscriptorium, sprinkled with rainbow shards of glass. A few passersby rushed over to help—but they stopped dead when a green mist began to swirl out from the bodies of the Heaps and rise up to form two pillars at least ten feet tall. Recognizing the Darke Magyk for what it was, people ran to the Wizard Tower for help only to find, to their dismay, that the Barricade was down. They hurried home and locked their doors.

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