Jenna and Marcia clung to the guardrail of the Inspection Circle as the whirlwind spun above the Cauldron, taking the flames with it, spiraling them up through the Alchemie Chimney and sending them bursting out into the evening sky.

A shocked silence fell in the Chamber of Fyre. No one moved. All that could be heard was the soft fuff-fuff-fuff of the tiny blue flames of the Alchemical Fyre and a cling as a gold ring with two screaming green faces imprisoned in it hit the lattice walkway and dropped through one of the holes.

“The ring!” yelled Marcia. “Get the ring!”

Milo caught it.

48

A QUEEN

Marcellus was smiling from ear to ear as he slowly lowered the Two-Faced Ring, suspended on a golden chain, toward the beautiful, blue Alchemical Fyre. Marcia very nearly told him to get a move on. But she didn’t. Marcellus was, she thought, allowed to savor the moment. He deserved it.

Marcellus was as happy as he could remember being for a very long time. He was back in his Fyre Chamber by right and about to DeNature the very thing that had destroyed his life so very long ago. He watched the faces of those he had gathered around him for this moment, transfixed by the ring as it dangled above the tiny blue flames that flickered gently across the top of the Fyre Cauldron. Here were people that Marcellus had grown to care about—the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, the Chief Hermetic Scribe and the Queen-to-be, not to mention his old Apprentice, Septimus, and his new Apprentice, Simon, who had come along with the accomplished chimney architect, Lucy Heap. There was Alther Mella, and also the very first ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Hotep-Ra, of whom Marcellus was quite in awe. And as the ghost of Julius Pike, escorted by Duglius Drummin, joined them, Marcellus felt rather outnumbered by ExtraOrdinary Wizards.

The Two-Faced Ring was now dangling just a few feet above the Fyre, and the tips of the delicate Alchemie flames leaped up to meet it, like fish jumping for insects on the surface of a stream. The pure light of the Fyre illuminated the evil green faces trapped in the ring for the very last time. They flashed in anger and as Marcellus lowered them into the Fyre, clapping and cheering erupted from the assembled watchers.

Marcellus turned to his audience. “It is done,” he said. “The Two-Faced Ring will stay in the center of the Fyre for twenty-one days. Then the ExtraOrdinary Wizard—I mean Madam Marcia Overstrand, although naturally, all ExtraOrdinary Wizards here are welcome to attend—and I will retrieve the ring, which by then will be no more than a lead band. As we transmute lead to gold, so we transmute gold to lead. It is the Alchemie way.”

Marcia had bitten her tongue for long enough. “Oh, give it a rest, Marcellus,” she said. “Come and have some lunch.”

Three weeks later, all the Drummins had gathered beneath the Cauldron. Duglius glared at the late arrivals—young teens who rarely emerged from their burrows before midday.

“We are all here, we are?” Duglius inquired.

A singsong murmur of assent spread through the dusty crowd.

“Good Drummins. There is a ghostly person who has a thing to say to all of us all.”

A murmuring spread through the crowd as the ghost of Julius Pike Appeared, glowing bright in the gloom.

“Drummins,” Julius began nervously. “I, um, have come to apologize. Many hundred years ago I did all Drummins a great wrong. I did not listen to your wisdom. I left you all to die. I did not care. For this I am truly, truly sorry.”

A murmur of surprise spread through the Drummins. Duglius signed for them to be quiet. “Do we Drummins all accept this sorry, do we?” he asked.

Another murmur began and this time Duglius did not interrupt. It continued for so long that Julius was beginning to think they would not accept his “sorry.” He felt sad at the thought. Over the previous weeks, the ghost had, at Marcia’s suggestion, accompanied her on a series of visits to the Drummins in order to get to know and understand them. Like Marcia, Julius had grown to like and respect them. He was surprised to find how much it now mattered to him that the Drummins felt the same about him. Julius waited anxiously while the Drummin crowd was clearly discussing him, illustrating their discussion by pointing their suckered fingers at him.

At last the discussion subsided and Duglius signed to the crowd. They made a sign back to him, which looked to Julius like a refusal. Duglius turned to the ghost and Julius felt nervous.

“We, Drummins,” said Duglius. He paused. “We do accept your sorry, we do.”

“Oh!” Julius sounded surprised and pleased. “Thank you, Duglius. And thank you, Drummins, all.” He bowed and floated up the ladder to join the group on the Viewing Station above.