Septimus skirted Spit Fyre's bucket and jumped down onto the sand. The girl walked slowly toward him and, as she drew closer, Septimus could see that she was wearing what looked like a very old-fashioned Apprentice tunic from the time when they still embroidered them with Magykal symbols. Two faded purple stripes on the hem of each sleeve proclaimed that she too was a Senior Apprentice. Her thin, straggly dark hair framed a careworn face covered in freckles. Septimus had the distinct feeling he had seen her before - but where?
The girl stopped in front of him. Her green eyes regarded him a little anxiously and then she gave a small formal bow with which, he suddenly remembered, Apprentices in Marcellus's Time would greet each other. "Septimus Heap," she stated.
"Yes?" Septimus replied warily.
"We have...met before. It is...good...to see you again." The girl spoke, Septimus thought, as though she were unused to speech.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I...am Syrah. Syrah Syara."
The name was familiar too. But from where?
"You don't remember me, do you?" asked the girl.
"I think I do, but..."
"The Wizard Tower?" the girl prompted.
That was it! Septimus remembered the pictures he had seen on the walls of the Wizard Tower just before he escaped the Siege - especially the one of the girl aiming a punch at Tertius Fume. He shook his head in disbelief. Surely this could not be her - that had happened hundreds of years ago.
"I said hello to you," said the girl.
"You said hello?" Now Septimus was completely lost.
"Yes. That is why I know who you are. You are...the Alchemie Apprentice, the one who mysteriously disappeared. But I congratulate you. You came back, I suppose, and have taken my place with Julius."
"Julius?" asked Septimus, puzzled.
"Julius Pike, now your ExtraOrdinary Wizard." Syrah sighed wistfully. "Oh, what I would give to see dear Julius once more."
Septimus felt his whole world shift. What was this girl Syrah saying - that he was back in that Time again? Septimus forced himself to remain calm. He told himself that nothing had happened to even suggest that they had gone back in Time once more, unless...unless the storm had something to do with it...or perhaps the weird lighthouse they had nearly crashed into...or maybe even the lightning bolt? Maybe - maybe once you had been in a Time you could somehow get dragged back there without even knowing? No, he told himself, that was not possible. The only explanation was that Syrah was a ghost. A very solid-looking one, it is true, but island life was obviously good for ghosts.
"You have a dragon," said Syrah.
"Yes," said Septimus.
"I have a confession to make. I have been watching you and your dragon."
"I know you have. Why didn't you just come and say hello?"
Syrah did not answer. "Your dragon has its head stuck in a bucket," she said. "You should take the bucket off."
"No way," said Septimus. "It was hard enough to put it on."
"You put the bucket on? That is most cruel."
Septimus sighed. "My dragon has a badly injured tail. The bucket is to stop him from biting the bandages."
"Oh. I see. I had a cat once and - "
"Really?" said Septimus, somewhat abruptly. He wanted Syrah to go. Ghost or not, her talk about Marcellus and Julius Pike unsettled him. He scanned the distant rocks, hoping to see Jenna and Beetle to bring him back to reality - where were they?
But Syrah showed no inclination to go. She seemed fascinated by Spit Fyre. She climbed onto the rocks and walked slowly around him. Septimus felt annoyed.
"He needs to rest," he told her. "He shouldn't be disturbed."
Syrah stopped and looked at Septimus. "Your dragon is dying," she said.