“Silas Heap,” she said, “I accept that you have not conspired against the Wizard Tower.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” breathed Silas.

Marcia held up her hand. “However . . .”

“Oh,” muttered Silas.

“You have neglected your duty as an Ordinary Wizard. On your Induction all those years ago you promised to protect the Wizard Tower at all times. You promised to honor your word. At some time in the last twelve hours you have broken both those promises with disastrous consequences.”

“No! No, I haven’t.”

“You have. You promised to accompany your brothers in the Wizard Tower at all times.”

“But I have.”

“If that is so, then that makes your position even worse.”

“But—”

Marcia cut in. “If you were with them at all times then that makes you an accomplice, does it not?”

All Silas could do was to shake his head.

“You understand that breaking your Induction vows can lead to permanent Barring from the Wizard Tower?”

Silas nodded miserably.

“And I assume you are aware that the Barring of a Wizard will also affect their immediate family?”

Silas was horrified. “No! No, you can’t make Septimus suffer for my stupid mistake.”

“I don’t make the rules, Silas. If you are Barred, then it is highly probable that Septimus will find he cannot access the arcane secrets of the Tower. This will mean that, should he wish it—and right now I don’t know if he ever will—he will never be able to become ExtraOrdinary Wizard. He will be Tainted by you.”

Silas groaned.

“It’s not fair, but that’s how it goes. You know that. There would be nothing I could do about it. The Tower has a mind of its own, and the deepest Magyk is not available to all. Why do you think we still have a Wizard Tower after it was inhabited by DomDaniel? He never got to its heart. Never.”

Silas was aghast. “You can’t lump Septimus in with that awful old Necromancer!”

“Of course I don’t. But the Wizard Tower might.”

Silas put his head in his hands. What had his brothers done?

Marcia spoke. “I want you to know that it is only for Septimus’s sake that I am not Barring you from the Tower.”

Silas sat up. “You’re not?”

“I’m not. I give you my word. So I suggest you try to fix things as soon as you can.”

Silas felt bleary, as though someone had hit him on the head. “Fix what?” he asked.

“Come on, Silas. Now you have my word that I’m not going to Bar you—and I keep my promises—you can be straight with me. You knew what Ernold and Edmund were planning. You’re their brother, they’ve been living with you, working with you—of course you knew. Just tell me where they are and what they’ve done with it and all will be fine.”

Silas leaped to his feet. He had had enough. “Knew what?” he demanded. “Done with what? Marcia, what are you talking about? What have my idiot brothers done?”

At last Marcia was convinced that Silas had no part in his brothers’ deed.

She stood up and looked Silas in the eye. “Edmund and Ernold have stolen the Two-Faced Ring.”

26

BAD TIMING

The door to the Sealed Tunnel in the Wizard Tower swung to and fro like a broken window in a hurricane as the last eddies of Magyk drained away. A somber group of senior Wizards stood at the door, waiting until it was possible to close it once more. It was essential that the tunnel be drained of all contamination before it was ReSealed.

Septimus—extricated from the Pyramid Library—was there. It was important, Marcia had told him, that he saw the correct procedure for DeContaminating. Marcia had then hurried off to the Stranger Chamber where, Septimus guessed, she had the culprit.

Bernard Bernard—a big bear of a man with squashy features and dishevelled hair—appeared. “Anyone need a break?” he inquired. And then, seeing Septimus, he added sympathetically, “Ah, hello, lad. Don’t you worry, now. He’ll be all right.”

“Who’ll be all right?” asked Septimus.

Bernard Bernard suddenly realized that Septimus did not know that Silas was in the Stranger Chamber. He looked embarrassed. “Ah. Well, I meant to say, we’ll be all right. All of us.”

“So Marcia’s got the you-know-what back?” someone inquired. (Some of the more superstitious Wizards considered it bad luck to name the Two-Faced Ring.)

“Just being, er, optimistic,” Bernard Bernard flannelled.