Marcellus was silent for a while. “I should have done. So I cannot tempt you to change your mind and become my Apprentice. Forever?”
Septimus so much wanted to say yes. And yet, the thought of what he would have to give up was too much. “I . . . I really want to.”
“Wonderful!”
“But . . .”
“Ah, a ‘but.’” Marcellus smiled ruefully. “I thought there might be.”
“But I can’t. I have promised Marcia.”
“Oh, well,” Marcellus said sadly.
“But . . .”
“Yes?”
“Will you let me come back here sometimes?” Septimus asked.
“Of course, Apprentice. I want no more secrets—not after next month, anyway. Both you and Marcia will be here when I DeNature the Two-Faced Ring.” Marcellus began to get to his feet, then he swayed and sat back down. He looked very pale.
“Are you all right?” Septimus asked, sitting down beside him.
“I will be in a minute. I just need . . . a little fresh air.”
“Not much of that down here.”
“No . . . but more than in that . . . coffin.”
Septimus shuddered. That had been his thought too. “I wonder what fell on it?”
“Bricks. Sounded like bricks,” said Marcellus.
“But why? Something must have made them fall.”
“Probably Marcia looking for you. It’s late.” Marcellus looked at his timepiece. “One hour past midnight.”
Septimus looked at Marcellus aghast. “Yes. Of course she would look for me. I was due back for the Wizard Warming Supper.”
“Don’t look so concerned, Apprentice. It’s good that she came, surely? Without her we’d still be stuck.”
Septimus now matched Marcellus’s pallor. “Oh, Marcellus. Supposing . . . supposing what you said is really true. Literally true.”
“Huh?”
“That without Marcia we would still be stuck.” Septimus put his head in his hands, trying to get the sound of the last thing that fell onto the chamber’s roof out of his head: heavy, yet soft.
Marcellus’s thoughts were on a different track. “Of course I would prefer that Marcia did not know about the moving chamber, Apprentice, but given the circumstances I—”
“Marcellus—the last thing that fell onto the roof . . . it wasn’t a brick, was it?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Well, it wasn’t a brick. It was heavy. But . . . kind of soft.”
“Soft?”
“Yes. Soft. And up there at the top, you couldn’t see the drop, could you? You wouldn’t be expecting it, would you? It would just be dark. You’d probably think it was a tunnel. In fact, you’d probably think that was where we had gone . . . got lost maybe. So you’d step in and there would be nothing there. You’d grab hold of the bricks, they’d fall away in your hand and then . . . and then . . .”