Blinded by the headlight, Marcellus was convinced that he was about to be run down. He heard Septimus’s voice but thought he was imagining it. It was only when Septimus shook his shoulder that Marcellus realized he was not—just then, anyway—going to die.
Jenna slid to a halt beside them, shocked at what she saw. Marcellus was in a terrible state. He was covered in dirt and streaked with dried blood that ran down from a huge bump on his forehead. “Marcellus!” she gasped. “Your head! What has happened?”
It was too much for Marcellus to explain right then. “Stuck,” he replied.
“Okay. Let’s get you out,” said Septimus.
Jenna grasped one shoulder and Septimus the other. “One, two, three—pull!”
“Ouch!” Marcellus yelled as he was wrenched from the tiny escape hatch and pulled out onto the ice—which felt, Septimus thought, unusually soft. As Marcellus lay groaning on the ice, Septimus briefly caught sight of a small, dusty face with squashy, broad features and a pair of large, round, black eyes staring at them from the ice. But before he could say anything, the little eyes were gone.
“Marcia . . .” Marcellus said feebly. “See Marcia. Got to tell her.”
Septimus was beyond being surprised by anything—if Marcellus suddenly wanted to tell all to Marcia, that was fine by him. “Okay. Now, Marcellus, can you stand?”
Marcellus nodded and then groaned once more. His head hurt badly. He allowed Jenna and Septimus to help him to his feet and walked unsteadily between them to the Purple Tube.
Unseen, Duglius popped his head out of the hatch once more to make sure his Master was safe. He saw Marcellus being helped to climb up the rungs on the side of the Tube and deposited with some difficulty through the hatch. He saw the Apprentice and the Princess clamber in after him and when the Tube hatch hissed closed, Duglius dropped back down the Drummin burrow escape hatch and pulled it shut too. Then he took a shiny mat—known as a slider—from a stack just below the hatch and sat down. With one push Duglius was away, hurtling down the escape burrow, GloGrubs jumping out of his way, dust kicking up into his face. It was something he had not done since he was a young Drummin, so very, very long ago, and once again Duglius felt the sheer joy of being alive. And as he headed down, Duglius was determined that he, his Drummins and his Fyre were going to stay that way.
Inside the Purple Tube, Marcellus was slumped on the bench seat behind the pilot’s. Jenna sat with him. “Marcellus,” she said, “we have to get to the Palace Ice Hatch. It’s really important. Can you tell us the way?”
“Not Palace,” mumbled Marcellus. “Marcia.”
“Palace first, then Marcia,” said Septimus firmly. Marcellus’s eyes were beginning to close. “Jen, keep him awake.”
“Marcellus—Marcellus!” Jenna gently patted Marcellus’s bloodstained cheeks to keep him awake. “Please. Marcellus. This is very important. We have to get to the Palace Hatch. Marcellus. The Palace Ice Hatch. Which way?”
The urgency in Jenna’s voice at last got through and Marcellus dragged himself back from the comforting sleep that beckoned to him. Marcellus knew every inch of the Ice Tunnels and even in his confused state he was able to direct them to a signpost that read TO THE PALACE.
Septimus took the turn and coasted to a halt beneath the Palace Ice Hatch. He took his Alchemie Keye—a round gold disc—from around his neck and handed it to Jenna, saying, “Press it into the dip in the middle.”
Septimus opened the passenger hatch and Jenna scrambled out. Water dripped on her head as she stood on top of the Tube and pressed the gold Keye into the indentation in the silver hatch above. “It’s open!” she called down. “I’ll be as quick as I can!” With that she was gone.
Septimus stared through the greenish glass at the ice outside. Something was wrong; the ice looked different. And then he realized what it was—it had lost the frosty sparkle that he had always loved. Septimus opened the pilot hatch. “Marcellus, I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, and swung himself up and out of the hatch and down onto the ice. Septimus was shocked. It was slush.
He looked up at the curved roof of the tunnel high above and a splat of water landed on his face. Rubbing his eyes, Septimus clambered back into the Tube. Now he knew for sure—the Ice Tunnels were melting.
Jenna pushed open the trapdoor at the top of the flight of steps that led up from the Ice Tunnel. She threw aside a heavy (and horribly dusty) rug and found herself in the coat cupboard just off the Palace entrance hall. Coughing and sneezing, she threw open the door, rushed out and ran straight into Sam.