Free The Darke Toad by Angie Sage Page B

to help too.”
    â€œWhat boy?” asked Septimus. And then he realized that Marcia meant him . “Oh,” he said. “I see.”
    â€œGood night, Septimus,” said Marcia, smiling. “Sleep well.”
    â€œI will,” said Septimus.

EXCERPT FROM FYRE
    The Magykal series by Angie Sage concludes with Fyre —more funny and fantastical adventures reuniting the entire Septimus Heap cast, and with one last powerful incantation:
    May Magyk be with you ,
    May you soar high in Flyte .
    May Physik guide you and
    Queste be your goal .
    May Syren not find you ,
    May Darke be behind you ,
    May you always have Fyre in your soul .
    Read on for a sneak peek at Fyre , the stunning finale to the Septimus Heap series!

1
WHAT LIES BENEATH

    I n the Vaults of the Manuscriptorium, The Live Plan of What Lies Beneath was unrolled on a large table. Lit by a bright lantern that hung above the table, the large and fragile sheet of opalescent Magykal paper lay weighted down by standard Manuscriptorium paperweights—squares of lead backed with blue felt. The Live Plan of What Lies Beneath was a map of all the Ice Tunnels that ran below the Castle—apart from the section that traveled out to the Isles of Syren. As its name suggested, the Live Plan was a little more than just a plan. Magykally , it showed what was happening in the Ice Tunnels at that very moment.
    Gathered around it were the new Chief Hermetic Scribe, O. Beetle Beetle; Romilly Badger, the Inspection Clerk; and Partridge, the new Scribe of Maps. If you had walked into the Vaults at that moment it would not have been clear who actually was the Chief Hermetic Scribe. Beetle’s long blue-and-gold coat of office had been banished to a nearby hook because its gold-banded sleeves scratched the delicate Live Plan and he was wearing his comfortable old Admiral’s jacket, which kept out the chill of the Vaults. With his dark hair flopping forward over his eyes, Beetle looked very much at home as he leaned over the Live Plan , concentrating hard.
    Suddenly Romilly—a slight girl with light brown hair and what Partridge thought was a cute, goofy smile—squeaked with excitement. A faint luminous splodge was moving along a wide tunnel below the Palace.
    â€œWell spotted,” said Beetle. “Ice Wraiths are not easy to see. I reckon that’s Moaning Hilda.”
    â€œThere’s another one!” Romilly was on a roll. “Ooh … and look, what’s that?” Her finger stabbed at a tiny shadow near the old Great Chamber of Alchemie and Physik.
    Partridge was impressed. There was a minuscule blip at the end of Romilly’s finger. “Is that an Ice Wraith too?” he asked.
    Beetle peered closer. “No, it’s too shadowy. And slow. Look—it is hardly moving at all compared to Moaning Hilda, who is way over there now. And it is too well defined; you can see it actually has a shape.”
    Romilly was puzzled. “Like a person, you mean?”
    â€œYes,” said Beetle. “Just like a— bother !”
    â€œIt’s gone,” said Romilly sadly. “That’s a shame. It can’t have been a person then, can it? Someone can’t suddenly disappear. It must have been a ghost.”
    Beetle shook his head; it was too solid for a ghost. But the Live Plan was telling him that all the Ice Tunnel hatches remained Sealed , so there was nowhere the person could have gone. Only a ghost could disappear from the middle of an Ice Tunnel like that.
    â€œWeird,” he said. “I could have sworn that was human.”
    It was human—a human named Marcellus Pye.
    Marcellus Pye, recently reinstated Castle Alchemist, had just dropped down through a hatch at the bottom of an unmapped shaft, which went close enough to an Ice Tunnel to show on the Live Plan . As soon as he was through the hatch Marcellus knew he was safe—the Live Plan did not show anything lower than this level.
    A