B eetle shone his light onto a hatch in the roof of an ice tunnel. It was no more than a few feet above their heads, almost near enough to touch if they jumped up high. The hatch formed an oval depression with the usual metal Seal beside it. All around it was a thin line of clear ice.
"See," said Beetle, "it's the same here. The ice has melted and refrozen. And, let's see...yes, it's been ReSealed too. Weird."
"Hmm..." said Septimus, not totally surprised. He knew whose hatch this was.
Beetle peered up at the hatch. "Of course this one could just be a faulty Seal on the other side.
Sometimes the domestic ones do that. It would be good to get in there and check, but some really weird guy moved in not long ago. Bit of a recluse, apparently. Won't even answer the door."
"I know," said Septimus. "I wish he would. But he's not really used to things yet."
"Do you know him, Sep?" asked Beetle, surprised.
Septimus made a decision - he would confide in Beetle. He was tired of keeping his visits to Marcellus a secret. "Well, yes, I do. But...er, Marcia doesn't know I come to see him. I keep meaning to tell her but she's so grumpy at the moment and - " Suddenly Septimus remembered something. "Oh, gosh - Beetle, have you got your timepiece with you?"
"Of course." Beetle grinned proudly. He had a state-of-the-art timepiece that had been found in pieces at the back of a Manuscriptorium cupboard and thrown out. He had rescued it and over several months, with the help of the Conservation Scribe, had painstakingly put it back together. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, completely silent due to a complicated flywheel mechanism and - most important of all - it kept very good time.
Proudly, Beetle took the timepiece from his pocket. It was made of a mix of gold and silver and was attached to a thick leather cord. On the top was a large handle with a winder in the middle. It sat covering Beetle's hand like a small, fat tortoise.
Septimus was impressed. "How did they make them so small?" he asked.
"Dunno," said Beetle. "You just don't get them like that anymore."
The hands on the timepiece were drawing close to midday. "Oh, rats," said Septimus. "I'm going to be late. Jenna will be really mad."
"Jenna?" Beetle seemed to have developed a squeak.
"Yeah. I'm meeting her here and I - "
"What - here, Sep?"
"No, not down here. I mean up there." Septimus pointed up to the hatch. "In the house."
"Are you?"
Septimus had an idea. "Would you like to come too? I could ask Marcellus if we could check the hatch from the inside."
"Marcellus - is that the weird guy who lives there?"
"He's not really weird," said Septimus. "Just a bit...unused to things."
"The name sounds familiar," said Beetle. "Hey, isn't he the one who kidnapped you through that Glass - the crazy old Alchemist?"
"Um, yes," admitted Septimus. "But he's not crazy. And he doesn't even look old anymore."
"Still an Alchemist though," said Beetle. "No wonder that hatch is a problem. Sheesh, I'm surprised we haven't had a total meltdown."
Septimus wondered if telling Beetle had been such a good idea, but it was too late now. "I'll open the hatch, then, okay?" he said. "It won't hurt for a few minutes. I can ReSeal it from inside."
Beetle looked shocked. "Open a Sealed hatch?"
"Well, yes. Then we can get in that way and meet Jenna - "
"Are you really meeting Princess Jenna up there?" Beetle asked.
Septimus nodded, jumping up and down to keep warm. His feet were beginning to feel like blocks of ice.
The temptation of seeing Jenna was too much for Beetle. "Okay, then," he said. "But I really shouldn't. Miss Djinn would throw a fit if she knew." From underneath his sled he took what Septimus realized was a telescopic ladder, opened it up and propped it against the wall. "I'll hold the ladder, Sep, and you can UnSeal the hatch. Probably better that way."
Ten minutes later Beetle and Septimus were making their way along the long, musty passageway that led from the hatch all the way to the house on Snake Slipway. Septimus knew the way well. He had first been there when it had belonged to Professor Weasal Van Klampff, whose ghastly housekeeper, Una Brakket, had taken him along the passage to Weasal's Laboratory. The passage had been dark and dusty then, but now it was well kept, with old-fashioned rush-lights placed in holders at regular intervals along the walls. It was just as it had been when Septimus had lived there for six strange months in another Time as Marcellus Pye's Alchemie Apprentice. Now Beetle followed Septimus as he set a brisk pace along the passage, passing the turning that led to the old Laboratory and following the long zigzag path underneath the houses that backed onto the Moat.
It was not long before Septimus and Beetle arrived at the end of the passageway and emerged into the large vaulted cellars below the house. Septimus strode through them and, worried that he was already late for Jenna, ran up the cellar steps and pushed open the cellar door under the stairs. "Marcellus?" he called out. "Marcellus?" There was no reply.
Septimus padded into the house, closely followed by a wary Beetle. The place smelled odd to Beetle.
The waxy scent of candles was combined with a bittersweet aroma of oranges, cloves and something he could not identify. Beetle could not get rid of the feeling that he had somehow gone back in time.
It had the same effect on Septimus. He was used to it now, but when he had first visited Marcellus just after the old Alchemist had moved in, Septimus had suddenly become convinced that he was still trapped in Marcellus's Time and his return to his own Time had been nothing more than a dream. In a terrible panic he had run out of the house, and to his joy he had seen Jillie Djinn bustling past. Jillie never did figure out quite why Marcia's Apprentice had thrown his arms around her and said how thrilled he was to see her, but she had gone back to the Manuscriptorium that morning with a spring in her step. People did not often throw their arms around Jillie Djinn.
The silence of the house fell upon Septimus and Beetle like a blanket. They walked along the narrow hallway, which was lit with more candles than Beetle had ever seen in his life. When they reached the foot of a steep flight of dark oak stairs, Beetle was amazed to see a lit candle had been placed on each step.
"All these candles, they're weird," whispered Beetle, feeling somewhat spooked.
"He doesn't like the dark," whispered Septimus. "Shhh, I can hear footsteps upstairs. Marcellus?
Marcell...us," he called out.