Julius was just in time to see Marcellus present Marcia with the DeNatured ring. “It is done,” said Marcellus.

Marcia looked at the plain lead band resting on her palm. “It is done,” she agreed. “Thank you.”

Marcellus bowed. “It was, I can truly say, my pleasure.”

Marcia smiled and handed the lead band to Hotep-Ra, who inspected it closely. He sighed. “It is for the best. But who would have thought that it was once a beautiful gold ring,” he said, giving it back to Marcia.

Marcia had an idea. “Can you turn this back to gold?” she asked Marcellus. “To how it was when Hotep-Ra gave it to the Queen?”

“Indeed I can,” said Marcellus. “And I shall do so with great pleasure.”

Preparations now began for Jenna to be crowned Queen.

Hotep-Ra decided to stay for the Coronation and he continued as the honored guest of the Wizard Tower. Everyone, even Marcia, was a little overawed to have the founding ExtraOrdinary Wizard take up residence in the Tower, but Hotep-Ra was used to a quiet life in the House of Foryx and preferred to spend most of his time in the Pyramid Library with Septimus and Rose. One morning, during a visit to the Sick Bay to see Jim Knee and Edmund and Ernold Heap, Marcia confided in Dandra Draa that she was worried that Hotep-Ra did not like her.

“It not you he not like, Marcia. It that nasty little ghost on your sofa.”

Marcia felt relieved, but she made her way back to her rooms with a heavy heart. How she would love to have cozy evenings sitting by the fire with Hotep-Ra, Septimus and Rose discussing Magyk. Trust the wretched Jillie Djinn to ruin a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She opened the door and Jillie Djinn welcomed her with what had become her usual greeting: “Fire!”

Marcia stomped up to the Library, where Hotep-Ra was sitting at the table, explaining an Arcane Transformation to an enthralled Septimus and Rose. “Excuse me for interrupting,” she said apologetically.

Hotep-Ra smiled. “Come in, Marcia, my dear. It is always good to see you.” Encouraged, Marcia joined them. “Hotep-Ra, I have a question,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Is there any way of removing a ghost from their place of entering ghosthood during the first year and a day?”

Hotep-Ra shook his head. “Generally, it is not possible. But if, like your friend on the sofa downstairs—”

“My friend!” Marcia was shocked.

“Is she not?”

“No! No, no, no! I can’t stand the woman—I mean the ghost. That is why I am asking. Is there any way of getting rid of her?”

Hotep-Ra smiled. “Ah. I see. Well, you are fortunate. She has short legs, does she not?”

Marcia was bemused. “Yes, she does. Short, fat little legs, actually.”

Hotep-Ra smiled. “Then it is an easy matter.”

That evening Marcia Lit the fire in her sitting room and sat around it with Hotep-Ra, Septimus, Rose, Simon, Lucy and Marcellus talking quietly about Magyk and Alchemie. A feeling of contentment stole over her—this was how it was meant to be.

Outside, in the wide corridor that led to the stairs, sat the sofa. And on the sofa sat the ghost of Jillie Djinn. Her little legs had never touched the ground.

MidSummer Day—the traditional day for a Coronation—drew near. Jenna decided, despite Queen Cerys’s disapproval, that she wanted it to take place beside the river.

Sarah Heap began to panic. “What if it rains?” she said.

“It won’t,” declared Jenna.

Jenna’s grandmother thought it was a wonderful idea. “I wanted to have mine outside too, dear,” she said, “but I let my mother talk me out of it. Remember, today you can do what you want and, take it from me, it won’t always be like that. I would make the most of it.”

And so preparations went ahead, and the Palace and its gardens once more became the busy hub of the Castle. The four Forest Heaps stayed to help Sarah and Silas get things ready, and everyone lent a hand—except for Milo, who once again had disappeared.

On Coronation Morning Marcia was up early. Milo, to Marcia’s annoyance, had insisted on a 7:00 A.M. appointment at the Palace to “check everything is tiketty-boo, if that’s all right with you, Marcia.” Marcia arrived as the Clockmaker’s clock was striking seven. She knocked on the Palace doors and yawned. She would be glad when the Coronation was over and Hotep-Ra—lovely though he was—had gone home, so that she and Septimus could get back to normal.

The doors were flung open. “Good morning, Marcia,” said Milo chirpily.