“Oh, but we are,” chorused the twins.

“We trained with the Conjurors of the Calm Green Seas . . .”

“. . . in the Wayward Islands of the West.”

“Absolute rubbish!” said Marcia.

“No, we did.”

“Really, we did. Honest.”

“You misunderstand me,” said Marcia. “I meant that Conjuring is rubbish. It is mere trickery and bears no relation to Magyk. I do not doubt you know a few tricks—the singing pink caterpillar infestation in the fourth-floor communal houseplant is testimony to that—but that does not make you Wizards. Take them home, Silas. At once.”

The thought of what Sarah would say if he returned with Edmund and Ernold after only an hour made Silas brave. “Marcia, my brothers are not here for long—”

“Oh, but we are,” said Edmund.

“No, you’re not,” retorted Silas. He turned to Marcia. “My brothers would dearly like to learn about Magyk. Education is one of the purposes of the Wizard Tower, isn’t it? They are willing to take their turn in all tasks and they humbly apologize for the caterpillars—” Silas kicked Ernold on the shin. “Don’t you?”

“Ouch!” said Ernold. “Yes. Absolutely. Edmund didn’t mean to do it.”

“But I didn’t do it!” protested Edmund.

“You did.”

Marcia looked at the squabbling brothers. “How old are you?” she inquired.

Silas answered for them. “Forty-six, believe it or not. Marcia, please let them stay. I think it would be really good for them. I will never let them out of my sight, I promise.”

Marcia considered the matter. Recently Silas had been frequenting the Wizard Tower on a regular basis. He had told Marcia that so very nearly losing the Tower to the Darke Domaine had made him realize how much he valued the place. Marcia knew that Silas had taken more than his fair share of the unpopular Seal Watch and there was a chronic shortage of Wizards available to do it. She supposed that even a couple of Conjurers might be trained to Watch. Marcia relented.

“Very well, Silas. I will ask Hildegarde to issue each of them with a Visitor Pass. It will restrict them to communal Wizard facilities only. You can train them as Watchers and they can take their turn, providing they pass the elementary Watch test.”

“Oh, Marcia, thank you,” said Silas. It was more than he had hoped for.

“My condition is that you must, as you promised, accompany them at all times. Is that understood?”

Silas smiled. “Yes, it certainly is. Thank you so much.”

23

THE ALCHEMIE CHIMNEY

Septimus’s vacation flew by and soon his month was nearly over. The Big Thaw set in. Sarah Heap had been dreading it—now there was nothing to keep her Forest boys in the Castle. But determined not to think about it, Sarah busied herself by trying to organize all the “Coronation Clutter,” as she called the multitude of offerings that were still arriving. Sarah was particularly pleased when she saw her old friend Sally Mullin coming up the drive—Sally always took her mind off things. Sarah hurried to the entrance hall, past the huge pile of “Clutter” watched over by a rather disapproving Sir Hereward. Barney Pot was on weekend door duty, sitting on a tall chair, happily swinging his legs and reading his new comic from the Picture Book Shop.

“Don’t worry, Barney,” Sarah told him. “I’ll get the doors.” She pulled them open and a gust of wind blew in. Sarah and Barney shivered. It was a dismal, raw day. “Come in, Sally, it’s so nice to see you, I’ve been—”

“Comptroller,” Sally began hurriedly in an oddly strangled voice. “I bring you this Wonder for the Coronation. We, the family Mullin, are honored to be the Keepers of the Coronation Biscuit Tin and as is our bounded duty since Time Began, we now present this to thee, Oh, Comptroller, for its sacred duty. Safe Journey.” Sally handed over a very battered golden tin, which sported a beautifully engraved crown on its lid.

Sarah took the tin. “Oh!” she said, nearly dropping it. It was heavy. Clearly it was made from solid gold.

Studiously avoiding Sarah’s amused gaze, Sally bowed three times and then walked backward across the plank bridge. As soon as she reached the other side, her suppressed giggles erupted and both she and Sarah collapsed in laughter.

“Oh, Sally,” gasped Sarah, “I had no idea. Come in and have a cup of herb tea.”

Sally scurried gratefully back over the bridge. “Ta. It’s perishing out here. Blasted biscuit tin weighed a ton, too.”