“It’s a circuit!” yelled Septimus. “We’ll go around and try again!”

“Okay, Sep! We can do it!”

On the backseat Marcellus looked green. He was beginning to think that maybe the Ice Tunnels weren’t such a bad idea, all things considered.

45

FLOOD

Marcia UnLocked the door to the Stranger Chamber and peered inside. Alther greeted her wearily. Although ghosts do not tire physically, they can still become mentally tired, and after spending more than twenty-four hours in close proximity to Nursie and Merrin, Alther was feeling like a wet rag. Nursie was snoring in the Stranger Chair, while Merrin was sprawled on the sofa kicking the table legs and watching the water jug wobble.

“Good morning, Merrin,” said Marcia.

Merrin stared at Marcia. “Morning,” he said suspiciously.

Nursie opened her eyes. At the sight of the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Nursie came straight to the point. “You keeping us prisoner?” she asked.

“Midwife Meredith, as I am sure Mr. Mella has explained, you and your son are here for your own safety.”

“Leave that lever alone!” shouted Alther.

Merrin had begun aiming desultory kicks at the lever beside the fire. “I didn’t touch it,” he said sulkily.

“I would advise you not to,” said Alther. “Marcia, a word, please.”

“Quickly, Alther,” said Marcia.

“Do I have to stay in here?” whispered Alther. “They are, as Septimus would say, doing my head in.”

“I’m sorry, Alther, but there’s no one else around right now who is Stranger Chamber–trained. Or, frankly, who I can trust not to throttle Merrin.”

“That boy is a total nightmare,” said Alther.

“Exactly. And only you can handle it, Alther. Now, I really must go.” With that Marcia closed the door, leaving Alther alone with his charges.

Unable to bear the ghost of Jillie Djinn, who had taken to shouting “Fire, fire!” every few seconds, Marcia had set up her headquarters in the Great Hall. A large round table had been taken from the canteen, which Marcia had Primed and then Projected onto it a permanent map of the Castle. The watchers in the LookOuts were sending down messengers every fifteen minutes with reports on the spread of the fires, which were now springing up all over the Castle. It was Rose’s job to indicate these on the table by placing a Fire Tablet where the reported fire was. If it hadn’t been for what the Fire Tablets represented, Rose would have really enjoyed her work. She had a leather bag of thick red discs that, when pressed down onto the Primed table, burst into flame and kept burning until Quenched. So far Marcia had not Quenched any and, after a message from the West LookOut, Rose had just placed a line of four more Fire Tablets in a particularly old part of the Castle. The fires were now spreading from house to house.

On a separate table safely away from the Fire Tablets lay The Live Plan of What Lies Beneath, which Simon—with a heavily bandaged foot propped up on a chair—was watching intently, reporting on a strange shadow that he had first picked up hovering above the Chamber of Fyre. Simon had then tracked it to the Palace, where it had stopped for some time. Both he and Marcia were convinced that this was the Ring Wizards. The shadow was now moving through the tunnels toward the Wizard Tower and causing Marcia some concern.

The doors to the Wizard Tower swung open and Beetle hurried in. One glance at his expression told Marcia it was yet more bad news.

“The Ice Tunnels are in flood,” said Beetle.

A collective gasp came from everyone in the Hall. Marcia stared at Beetle in disbelief. “They can’t be,” she said.

“They are. The tunnel below the Manuscriptorium is a torrent of water. How Romilly got out I do not know.”

“Romilly was down there?”

“She was monitoring the melt,” said Beetle. “She was quite a way into the system when she noticed that it was suddenly speeding up—chunks of ice were falling from the roof and the runners of the sled were hitting brick. She headed back but as she got to the long straight below the Manuscriptorium she heard a roar. Poor Romilly, she knew exactly what it was. A wall of water picked the sled up and she was carried along—she only escaped by grabbing on to the rung just below the Ice Hatch.”

“But she’s all right?” asked Marcia.

“Shocked. Bruised. But okay.”

Julius Pike wafted over from the table where he had been staring at the fires. “ExtraOrdinary, you must act now. You cannot allow the Fyre to rage out of control.”