Fyre Page 90


Septimus addressed his jinnee with a formal command. “Jim Knee. I wish you to Transform into the likeness of . . . DomDaniel!”

29

DOORSTEPPING

From an attic window in the house of the Port Witch Coven, Dorinda saw a portly man wearing a stovepipe hat, a purple ExtraOrdinary Wizard’s cloak embroidered with Darke symbols and an impressive array of rings on his stubby, fat fingers. Dorinda’s huge elephant ears twitched in amazement. Surely that was DomDaniel? Her mouth went dry. But wasn’t he dead? She peered out again and saw the man lift the knocker and knock loudly on the door. Dorinda knew no ghost could do that. She sat down on her bed in horror. He’s real, thought Dorinda. And then she thought: DomDaniel is visiting Nursie! Dorinda began to panic; clearly there was more to Nursie than she’d realized. She just wished she’d known that earlier—before she’d tipped a bucket of Darke spiders over her that afternoon while she was hanging out the washing. Dorinda groaned. She wrapped her elephant ears around her head and began to chew a soft ear-edge for comfort. Nursie had looked up and seen her—so that was what she had meant by “I’ll get you for that, you little trollop!” Nursie was going to set DomDaniel on her. Dorinda shook her elephant ears free, leaped to her feet and screamed. And when Dorinda screamed, the whole of the Port Witch Coven knew it.

Down on Nursie’s doorstep, Jim Knee was, to his surprise, enjoying himself. He had a penchant for rings and he rather liked his new collection. He raised his hand to knock once more and admired the flash of the diamond cluster that nestled on his little finger. As he was about to let the knocker go, the door surprised him by opening to reveal the back view of a lanky youth with short black hair and a neat dark tunic, who was yelling back into the house.

“What?”

“Answer . . . the . . . door!” a disembodied voice yelled from somewhere at the top of the house.

Septimus, who was standing hidden in the shadows behind Jim Knee, was relieved to see that Merrin Meredith seemed his usual self—clearly the Darke Wizards had not yet found him. Septimus thought that Merrin looked surprisingly neat and tidy—pretty normal, in fact—apart from a bandage around his left hand, which, as it grasped the edge of the door, showed an odd flatness where the thumb should be. But Merrin himself had yet to notice who had knocked. He was too busy yelling, “I’m doing it!”

“Merrin! Answer . . . the . . . door!” came the voice from upstairs.

“I’veansweredthestupiddoorareyoudeaf?” Merrin screamed into the gloom of the house. “Jeez!” He swung around grumpily and saw his visitor for the first time. His mouth fell open and stayed that way.

“Who . . . is . . . it?” yelled the voice from upstairs.

Merrin was in no state to reply—all he could do was stare at the apparition on the doorstep in terror.

Jim Knee perused his dumbstruck victim with an air of satisfaction; things were going well. The jinnee drew himself up to DomDaniel’s full height—which was not much, although the stovepipe hat added enough to be just taller than the boy at the door—and was surprised by the nasty little voice that came out of his mouth.

“Apprentice.” Jim Knee coughed and tried to get the voice deeper and more scary. “Ahem. Apprentice.”

Merrin emitted a small squeak and leaned against the doorframe. His long, thin legs wobbled as though they were made of rubber and looked ready to fold in half at any moment. From inside the house heavy footsteps could be heard coming downstairs accompanied by a voice yelling, “Merrin! Who is it?”

“Hurry up!” Septimus urged his jinnee.

“Apprentice,” intoned Jim Knee. “You will accompany me to the Castle.”

Merrin leaped back and tried to slam the door, but Jim Knee stepped forward and wedged his foot against it. Merrin stared at his old Master in horror. It was worse than his worst nightmare ever. “N-nah . . . ah . . .” he gurgled.

“Apprentice. Come with me!” Jim Knee boomed, getting control of the voice now. He leaned close to Merrin and said in a voice so laden with threat that even Septimus got goose bumps, “Do I have to make you, you little toad?”

Wide-eyed, widemouthed, Merrin shook his head. Very reluctantly, he began to edge forward. Suddenly footsteps could be heard on the stairs.

“Mum!” squeaked Merrin.

Septimus panicked—events were going a little too fast. In a moment Nursie would be there and they would have lost their chance. “Grab him, quick!” he told Jim Knee.

Jim Knee grabbed Merrin’s arm.

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