Marcia stood up and so did Septimus - an Apprentice must never sit when his tutor is standing. Marcia picked up the ribbons and placed them on the hems of Septimus's bright green sleeves. In a puff of Magykal purple mist, the ribbons curled themselves around the hems of the sleeves and became part of his tunic. Septimus stared at them, amazed. He didn't know what to say. But Marcia did.
"Now, Septimus, you need to know a little about the rights and duties of a Senior Apprentice. You may determine fifty percent of your own projects and also your main timetable - within reason, of course. You may be asked to deputize for me at the basic-level Wizard Tower meetings - for which, incidentally, I would be very grateful. As Senior Apprentice, you may come and go without asking my permission, although it is considered courteous to inform me where you are going and at what time you intend to return. But as you are still so young, I would add that I do require you to be back in the Wizard Tower by nine P.M. on weekdays - midnight at the latest on special occasions - understood?"
Still gazing at the Magykal purple stripes shimmering on the ends of his sleeves, Septimus nodded. "Understood...I think...but why...?"
"Because," Marcia said, "you are the only Apprentice ever to return from the Queste. Not only did you return alive, but you returned having successfully completed it. And - even more incredible - you were sent on this...this terrible thing before you had even gotten halfway through your Apprenticeship - and you still did it. You used your Magykal skills to better effect than many Wizards in this Tower could ever hope to do. This is why you are now Senior Apprentice. Okay?"
"Okay." Septimus smiled. "But..."
"But what?"
"I couldn't have done the Queste without Jenna and Beetle. And they're still stuck in that smelly little net loft in the Trading Post. So are Nicko and Snorri. We promised to go right back for them."
"And we will," Marcia replied. "I am sure they did not expect us to turn around and fly back immediately, Septimus. Besides, I haven't had a moment since we returned. This morning I was up early getting some ghastly potion from Zelda for Ephaniah and Hildegarde - both of whom are still very sick. I need to keep an eye on Ephaniah tonight, but I shall set off on Spit Fyre first thing tomorrow morning to collect them all. They'll be back very soon, I promise."
Septimus looked at his purple ribbons, which had a beautiful Magykal sheen, like oil on water. He remembered Marcia's words: "As Senior Apprentice, you may come and go without asking my permission, although it is considered courteous to inform me where you are going and at what time you intend to return."
"I shall get them," he said, swiftly getting into Senior Apprentice mode.
"No, Septimus," Marcia replied, already forgetting that she was now talking to a Senior Apprentice. "It is far too risky, and you are tired after the Queste. You need to rest. I shall go."
"Thank you for your offer, Marcia," Septimus said, a trifle formally, in the way he thought Senior Apprentices probably should speak. "However, I intend to go myself. I shall be setting off on Spit Fyre in just over an hour's time. I shall return the day after tomorrow evening by midnight, as this can reasonably be classified, I think, as a special occasion."
"Oh." Marcia wished she hadn't informed Septimus quite so fully on the rights of a Senior Apprentice. She sat down and regarded Septimus with a thoughtful look. Her new Senior Apprentice seemed to have grown up suddenly. His bright green eyes had a newly confident air as they steadily returned her gaze, and - yes, she had known something was different the moment he had walked in - he had combed his hair.
"Shall I come and see you off?" Marcia asked quietly.
"Yes, please," Septimus replied. "That would be very nice. I'll be down at the dragon field in just under an hour." At the study door he stopped and turned. "Thank you, Marcia," he said with a broad grin. "Thank you very much indeed."
Marcia returned his smile and watched her Senior Apprentice walk out of her study with a new spring in his step.
Chapter 2 Keeper's Cottage
I t was a bright, blustery spring day in the Marram Marshes. The wind had blown away the early-morning mist and was sending small white clouds scudding high across the sky. The air was chilly; it smelled of sea salt, mud and burned cabbage soup. In the doorway of a small stone cottage a gangly boy with long, matted hair was pulling a backpack onto his broad shoulders. Helping him was what appeared to be a voluminous patchwork quilt.
"Now, you are sure you know the way?" the patchwork quilt was asking anxiously. The boy nodded and pulled the backpack straight. His brown eyes smiled at the large woman hidden within the folds of the quilt. "I've got your map, Aunt Zelda," he said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. "In fact, I have all your maps." More pieces of paper emerged. "See...here's Snake Ditch to Double Drain. Double Drain to the Doom Sludge Deeps. Doom Sludge Deeps to the Broad Path. Broad Path to the reed beds. Reed beds to the Causeway."
"But from the Causeway to the Port. Do you have that one?" Aunt Zelda's bright blue, witchy eyes looked anxious.
"Of course I do. But I don't need it. I remember that all right."
"Oh, dear," Aunt Zelda said with a sigh. "Oh, I do hope you'll be safe, Wolf Boy dear."
Wolf Boy looked down at Aunt Zelda, something that had only very recently become possible - a combination of him growing fast and Aunt Zelda becoming a little more stooped. He put his arms around her and hugged her hard. "I'll be fine," he said. "I'll be back tomorrow, like we said. Listen for me about midday."
Aunt Zelda shook her head. "I don't Hear so well nowadays," she said a little wistfully. "The Boggart will wait for you. Now, where is he?" She scanned the Mott, which was filling fast with brackish water from the incoming tide. It had a thick, muddy appearance that reminded Wolf Boy of the brown-beetle-and-turnip soup that Aunt Zelda had boiled up for supper the previous evening. Beyond the Mott stretched the wide open flatness of the Marram Marshes, crisscrossed with long, winding ditches and channels, treacherous oozes, mile-deep mires and containing many strange - and not always friendly - inhabitants.
"Boggart!" called Aunt Zelda. "Boggart!"
"It's all right," said Wolf Boy, eager to be off. "I don't need the Bog - "
"Oh, there you are, Boggart!" Aunt Zelda exclaimed as a dark brown, seallike head emerged from the thick waters of the Mott.
"Yes. I is here," said the creature. He regarded Aunt Zelda grumpily from his large brown eyes. "I is here asleep. Or so I thought."
"I am so sorry, Boggart dear," said Aunt Zelda. "But I would like you to take Wolf Boy to the Causeway."
The Boggart blew a disgruntled mud bubble. "It be a long way to the Causeway, Zelda."