“Now I understand why you wouldn’t do the Revive,” said Jenna. “It wasn’t about it being better for the Dragon Boat to heal herself at all. It was because you’d lost a bowl. I wish you’d told me the truth.” Jenna was trying not to feel angry, but she could not believe that Aunt Zelda had kept something so important from her. She remembered what Sarah said about witches: they tell you what they want you to know—not what you want to know.
Jenna had been stroking Bert, who lay sleeping on the cushion beside her. But being stroked by someone who was upset made Bert feel edgy. Suddenly the duck gave Jenna’s hand a sharp peck. Jenna, to her utter embarrassment, burst into tears.
“Hey, Jen,” said Septimus, “it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” Jenna sniffed.
“We can fix it, I know we can,” Septimus insisted.
“But how?” Jenna asked, blowing her nose on her red silk handkerchief.
Septimus picked up one of the bowls and turned it over in his hands. “When he’s got the Fyre going, I bet Marcellus could make another one.”
“I’m afraid he can’t, dear,” said Aunt Zelda. “A new bowl would not belong. It couldn’t communicate with the others. You see, they are all from one original piece of ancient gold.”
“Ah . . . Cloned gold.”
“Gnomed gold?” asked Aunt Zelda, whose hearing was not as good as it had been.
“Cloned. Each one belongs to the other. Like identical triplets. Oh!” Septimus suddenly realized what he had said. He glanced at Jenna.
The shock at the disappearance of the third bowl had put all thoughts of Wolf Boy’s brothers out of Jenna’s mind. But now she was glad to think of something else for a while. She nudged Septimus. “Go on.”
“Ahem,” said Septimus nervously. Suddenly, it seemed such a big thing to tell Wolf Boy.
The little cottage fell silent. Aunt Zelda stared mournfully at the fire.
“Triplets,” said Jenna, trying to get Septimus to speak.
“Weird. Don’t you think?” said Wolf Boy.
“What’s weird?” Jenna asked.
“Triplets. Twins. People being identical.” Wolf Boy shook his head. “I dunno why, but whenever I see twins or triplets it always gives me a peculiar feeling. Right here.” Wolf Boy pushed his fist against his stomach. “Something about people looking the same, I guess.”
Septimus and Jenna exchanged glances. Tell him, Jenna mouthed.
Wolf Boy was a good lip reader. “Tell him what?” he asked suspiciously.
Septimus looked at Wolf Boy. “Um. There might be another reason why you feel like that.” He pushed his fist against his stomach just as Wolf Boy had done.
“Yeah?” said Wolf Boy, picking up a bowl and twirling it to catch the reflections from the firelight.
“Identical triplets,” said Septimus. “I mean . . .”
Wolf Boy put the bowl down and stared at Septimus, puzzled. “What?”
Septimus floundered. “Well, some people actually are triplets but they don’t know they are but even so they still kind of know deep down because even though they can’t remember it they were together once I mean so close together you can’t imagine it and so that’s why they get this weird thing when they hear about triplets and . . .”
“You all right, 412?” Wolf Boy asked.
“Yep. Fine.”
Jenna could bear it no longer. “Sep, just tell him straight.”
Wolf Boy looked worried. “Tell him what straight?” he asked.
Septimus took a deep breath. “You are an identical triplet. We’ve found your brothers—well, Beetle has. He went to the Young Army Record Office. And there are two more like you: 410 and 411.”