give. I am but the Guardian of the Forest Way. Therefore, I must exact a price."
"I shall pay whatever you ask," he recklessly replied.
Morwenna looked surprised. "Very well. I shall give you my price in the morning. And when I ask it, you must pay it."
Ephaniah nodded somberly. "I understand," he squeaked.
With that the Witch Mother got to her feet and the whole circle of witches had silently followed suit.
And that was the end of the evening.
Septimus sat up and threw off the disgusting goatskin. He was, he decided, allergic to goats - especially rancid ones. He wondered if he could swap his goatskin for Beetle's blanket without Beetle waking up.
"You awake, Sep?" Beetle's whisper came from the other side of the tepee.
"No. I always sleep sitting up."
"Really?"
"Of course I'm awake, Beetle. You awake too?"
"Nah. Fast asleep."
"Ha ha. Hey...what's that?" Tall, distorted shadows had suddenly appeared in sharp focus on the side of the tepee. A bout of hastily smothered giggling gave the game away - a group of young witches were on the other side of the tepee.
"No...is that really what she's going to ask the rat-man for?" an incredulous voice was asking.
"That's what she said. She always tells me stuff when I help her get ready for bed. She likes to unwind and talk about things."
"You'll be Witch Mother-in-Waiting if you don't watch out, Marissa."
"Oh, ha ha. I don't think so."
An earnest voice chimed in. "But the rat-man doesn't have to give what she asks for, does he?"
"He does. He agreed, didn't he?"
A new voice said, "He squeaked. Could mean anything. Could mean get off my foot you great fat - "
"Shhh. You're crazy calling the Witch Mother fat. You know how touchy she is about her weight.
You'll end up a frog for a day - or worse."
The earnest voice chimed in again. "But why would she want the Princess anyway?"
Septimus's and Beetle's eyes widened in shock. They both strained to hear what was coming next.
"She wants the panther." This was Marissa. "Morwenna's always wanted a Day to Night Transformer."
"So why doesn't she just ask for the panther?"
"Two for the price of one," Marissa said, giggling. "If she asks for the panther that's all she gets. But if she asks for the Princess the panther comes too. Clever, huh?"
"Yeah..."
"And having the Princess would make her really powerful, wouldn't it? Morwenna says that the Palace is full of tons of old Magyk stuff that the Queens pinched from us in the first place. She just wants back what's rightfully ours."
"So she really is going to ask for the Princess?"
"Yep. She is. First thing tomorrow. So we'll have little Miss Royal Fusspot and her scrappy cat living here. She'll soon learn. Ho-ho."
There was another flurry of giggling - a little nastier this time - and to his dismay, Septimus felt another sneeze coming on. He grabbed hold of his nose and held his breath. He must not sneeze. He must not, not, not, ah...ah...ah...Beetle saw what was coming. He leaped up and shoved his hand over Septimus's nose and suddenly Septimus most definitely did not want to sneeze anymore. He just wanted to breathe.
The young witches' conversation continued, unaware of the listeners right next to them, pided only by a thick sheet of canvas. Marissa was speaking now. She sounded impatient. "Sam will be here soon. I can see his torch coming along the track. We can't wait for Bryony much longer."
"Give her a couple of minutes more, Marissa. She had to clean the cooking pot. Which is more than you did this morning. It's disgusting."
"Well, I hate cleaning the pot. No one notices a bit of breakfast in their wolverine stew. Oh, I'm tired of waiting. I'm going to go get her. She can come now or forget it."
"Okay. We'll come with you." The tallest shadow left the group and the three other shadows quickly followed.
Beetle and Septimus stared at each other, goggle-eyed. "Did you hear that?" mouthed Beetle.
Septimus nodded. "We've got to get Jen out of here," he whispered.
Chapter 31 CAMP HEAP
T hirty seconds later a very drowsy Jenna was outside the tepee with Septimus and Beetle standing on either side of her like sentries. She blinked into the bright moonlight and looked around, puzzled.
Ullr yawned and stretched, digging his claws into the damp grass.
Far on the other side of the Summer Circle an argument about a cooking pot was developing. Under the cover of the raised voices Septimus whispered, "Jen - we've got to get out of