The Ancient, still in a sitting position, floated up from his chair and hovered in the doorway, peering out into the sunlight. "A Darke horse. And a Darke rider," his voice echoed thinly.
Septimus pulled Jenna into the shadows behind the ghost.
"What are you doing?" Jenna protested. "It's only that horse we saw before. Let's see who the rider is."
As she stepped out into the light of the doorway, Jenna saw the horse approaching. The rider rode the horse hard, sitting forward on the animal and urging it on, his dark cloak streaming out behind him. The horse did not stop at the gate, but carried straight on through Gudrun the Great and thundered up the driveway. Unfortunately Billy Pot was still on his way to his patch of grass. He had just started to push the Contraption across the drive when he and the Contraption were forced to make a swift change of direction to avoid the oncoming horse. Billy made it but the Contraption was not so lucky. Unused to doing anything quickly, it fell to pieces where it stood. The lawn lizards ran off in all directions, and Billy Pot found himself gazing at a pile of metal in the middle of the Palace drive.
The horseman thundered on, oblivious to Billy Pot's loss and the lizards' newfound freedom. The horse's hooves kicked up the midsummer dust and beat with rhythmic hollow thuds against the dry ground as it rapidly approached the Palace.
Jenna and Septimus waited for the horseman to take the usual path around to the stables at the back of the Palace, but to their surprise the rider ignored it and spurred the horse on over the bridge. Expertly, without breaking the horse's stride, the horseman galloped over the threshold of the door and rode straight through Godric. Jenna felt the damp heat of the horse as it passed close, letting go a long fleck of horse spittle, which landed on her tunic. She turned to protest to the horseman, but he was gonecantering across the hall at full speed. With his horse's hooves skidding on the stone flags and sending up sparks, he executed a sharp left turn into the gloom of the Long Walk, the mile-long corridor that ran down the middle of the Palace like a backbone.
Godric picked himself up from the floor and muttered, "A coldness ... a coldness went through me." He subsided shakily back into his chair and closed his transparent eyes.
"Are you all right, Godric?" Jenna asked, concerned.
"Yes, indeed," murmured the old ghost faintly. "Thank you, your honor. I mean, thank you, your Princess."
"Are you sure you're all right?" Jenna peered at the ghost but he had fallen asleep.
"Come on, Sep," whispered Jenna. "Let's see what's happening."
The inside of the Palace was dark after the brilliant sunshine. Jenna and Septimus ran across the central hallway to the Long Walk. They stared down the seemingly endless, dimly lit expanse, but there was no sight or sound of the horseman.
"He vanished," whispered Jenna. "Maybe he was a ghost."
"Funny sort of ghost," said Septimus, pointing to some dusty hoofprints on the faded red carpet that was laid on the huge old flagstones. Jenna and Septimus turned down the east wing of the Walk and followed the hoofprints. Once, before the Supreme Custodian had taken over the Palace, the Long Walk had been full of wonderful treasurespriceless statues, rich hangings and colorful tapestriesbut now it was a dusty shadow of its former self. During his ten years of occupation, the Supreme Custodian had stripped all the most valuable possessions from the Palace and sold them to fund his lavish banquets. Now, Jenna and Septimus walked past a few old paintings of previous Queens and Princesses, which had been rescued from the basement, and some empty wooden chests with broken locks and wrenched hinges. After three Queens, all of whom looked somewhat bad-tempered, and a cross-eyed Princess, the hoofprints made a sharp right turn and disappeared through the wide double doors of the Ballroom. The doors were already thrown open, and Jenna and Septimus followed the hoofprints in. There was no sign of the horseman.
Septimus let out a low whistle. "This place is big," he said.
The Ballroom was indeed huge. When the Palace had been built it was said that the entire population of the Castle could have fit inside the Ballroom. Although this was no longer true, it was still the biggest room that anyone in the Castle had ever seen. The ceiling was higher than a house and the massive windows, which were full of small panes of stained glass, stretched from floor to ceiling and threw an array of rainbow colors across the polished wooden floor. The lower panes of the windows were thrown open in the heat of the summer morning. They led out onto the lawns at the back of the Palace, which swept down to the river.
"He's gone," said Jenna.
"Or Disappeared," muttered Septimus. "Like the Ancient said, 'a Darke horse and a Darke rider.' "
"Don't be silly, Sep. He didn't mean it like that," said Jenna. "You've spent too long at the top of that Tower with a spooked Wizard and her Shadow. Anyway, he's only just gone out through that windowlook."
"You don't know that for sure," Septimus objected, stung at being called silly by Jenna.
"Yes, I do," said Jenna, pointing to the pile of horse dung steaming on the step. Septimus made a face. Carefully they stepped out onto the terrace.
It was then that they heard Sarah Heap scream.
Chapter 4 Simon Says
Just one little message rat," Sarah Heap was saying tearfully to the dismounted dark horseman, as Jenna and Septimus reached the door to the walled kitchen garden. The man had his back to them. He stood awkwardly, holding on to his horse with one hand and patting Sarah, who had thrown her arms around his neck, with the other.
Sarah Heap looked small and almost frail beside the man. Her wispy fair hair straggled down to her shoulders, and her long blue cotton tunic with the Palace gold edging on the sleeves and hem could not hide how thin Sarah had become since her return to the Castle. But her green eyes were bright with relief as she looked up at the dark horseman.
"Just one message to let me know you were safe," chided Sarah. "That's all I needed. All we needed. Your father has been worried sick too. We thought we would never see you again ... gone for more than a year and not a word. You really are a bad boy, Simon."
"I am not a boy, Mother. I am a man now. I am twenty years old, in case you had forgotten." Simon Heap detached Sarah's arms from his neck and stepped back, suddenly aware that he was being watched. He swung around and did not look particularly pleased to see his youngest brother and adopted sister hanging back uncertainly by the kitchen garden door. Simon turned back to his mother.
"Anyway, you don't need me," he said sulkily. "Not now you have your precious long-lost seventh son back. Particularly as he has done so well for himselftaking my Apprenticeship."
"Simon, don't," Sarah protested. "Please don't let's argue over that again. Septimus took nothing from you. You were never offered the Apprenticeship."
"Ah, but I would have been. If that brat hadn't turned up."