"I fled to the Wizard Tower. I couldn't think where else to go. I told the other Wizards the terrible news and asked for their protection, which they gave us. All afternoon we talked about what we should do with the Princess. We knew she could not stay in the Tower for long. We could not protect the Princess forever, and anyway, she was a newborn baby who needed a mother. It was then that I thought of you, Sarah."

Sarah looked surprised.

"Alther often talked to me about you and Silas. I knew you had just had a baby boy. It was the talk of the Tower, the seventh son of the seventh son. I had no idea then that he had died. I was so sorry to hear that. But I knew you would love the Princess and make her happy. So we decided that you should have her.

"But I couldn't just walk over to The Ramblings and give her to you. Someone would have seen me. So, late in the afternoon, I smuggled the Princess out of the Castle and left her in the snow, making sure that you, Silas, would find her. And that was it. There was nothing more I could do.

"Except, after Gringe had fl.u.s.tered me into giving him a half crown, I hid in the shadows and watched for you as you came back. When I saw the way you held your cloak and the way you walked as if you were protecting something precious, I knew that you had the Princess and, do you remember, I told you, 'Tell no one no one you you found found her. She was her. She was born born to you. to you. Understand Understand?'"

A charged silence hung in the air. Silas stared at the floor, Sarah sat motionless with Jenna, and the boys all looked thunderstruck. Marcia stood up quietly, and from a pocket in her tunic she took a small red velvet bag. Then she picked her way across the room, being careful not to step on anything, particularly a large, and none too clean, wolf that she had just noticed asleep in the middle of a pile of blankets.

The Heaps watched, mesmerized, as Marcia walked solemnly over to Jenna. The Heap boys parted respectfully as Marcia stopped in front of Sarah and Jenna and knelt down.

Jenna stared with wide-open eyes as Marcia opened the velvet bag and took from it a small gold circlet.

"Princess," said Marcia, "this was your mother's and now it is yours by right." Marcia reached up and placed the gold circlet on Jenna's head. It fitted perfectly.

Silas broke the spell. "Well, you've done it now, Marcia," he said crossly. "The cat's really out of the bag."

Marcia stood up and brushed the dirt off her cloak. As she did so, to her surprise, the ghost of Alther Mella floated through the wall and settled himself down beside Sarah Heap.

"Ah, here's Alther," said Silas. "He won't be pleased about this, I can tell you."

"h.e.l.lo, Silas, Sarah. h.e.l.lo, all my young Wizards." The Heap boys grinned. People called them many things, but only Alther called them Wizards.

"And h.e.l.lo, my little Princess," said Alther, who had always called Jenna that. And now Jenna knew why.

"h.e.l.lo, Uncle Alther," said Jenna, feeling much happier with the old ghost floating next to her.

"I didn't know that Alther came to see you too," Marcia said, somewhat put out, even though she was rather relieved to see him.

"Well, I was his Apprentice first," snapped Silas. "Before you elbowed in."

"I did not not elbow in. You gave up. You elbow in. You gave up. You begged begged Alther to annul your Apprenticeship. You said you wanted to read bedtime stories to the boys instead of being stuck in a turret with your nose in a dusty old spell book. You really do take the biscuit sometimes, Silas," glowered Marcia. Alther to annul your Apprenticeship. You said you wanted to read bedtime stories to the boys instead of being stuck in a turret with your nose in a dusty old spell book. You really do take the biscuit sometimes, Silas," glowered Marcia.

"Children, children, don't argue now." Alther smiled. "I love you both the same. All my Apprentices are special."

The ghost of Alther Mella shimmered slightly in the heat of the fire. He wore his ghostly ExtraOrdinary Wizard cloak. It still had bloodstains on it, which always upset Marcia when she saw them. Alther's long white hair was carefully tied back into a ponytail, and his beard was neatly trimmed to a point. When he had been alive, Alther's hair and beard had always been a mess-he could never quite keep up with how fast it all seemed to grow. But now that he was a ghost, it was easy. He'd sorted it all out ten years ago and that was the way it had stayed. Alther's green eyes may have sparkled a little less than they had when he was alive, but they looked around him as keenly as ever. And as they gazed at the Heap household he felt sad. Things were about to change.

"Tell her, Alther," demanded Silas. "Tell her she's not having our Jenna. Princess or not, she's not having her."

"I wish I could, Silas, but I can't," said Alther, looking serious. "You have been discovered. An a.s.sa.s.sin is coming. She will be here at midnight with a silver bullet. You know what that means..."

Sarah Heap put her head in her hands. "No," she whispered.

"Yes," said Alther. He shivered and his hand strayed to the small round bullet hole just below his heart.

"What can we do?" asked Sarah, very quiet and still.

"Marcia will take Jenna to the Wizard Tower," said Alther. "Jenna will be safe there for the moment. Then we will have to think about what to do next." He looked at Sarah. "You and Silas must go away with the boys. Somewhere safe where you won't be found."

Sarah was pale, but her voice was steady. "We'll go into the Forest," she said. "We will stay with Galen."

Marcia looked at her timepiece again. It was getting late.

"I need to take the Princess now," she said. "I must get back before they change the sentry."

"I don't want to go," whispered Jenna. "I don't have to, do I, Uncle Alther? I want to go and stay with Galen too. I want to go with everyone else. I don't want to be on my own." Jenna's lower lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. She held on tightly to Sarah.

"You won't be on your own. You'll be with Marcia," said Alther gently. Jenna did not look as though that made her feel any better.

"My little Princess," said Alther, "Marcia is right. You need to go away with her. Only she can give you the protection you will need."

Jenna still looked unconvinced.

"Jenna," said Alther seriously, "you are the Heir to the Castle, and the Castle needs you to keep safe so that you can be Queen one day. You must go with Marcia. Please Please."

Jenna's hands strayed to the golden circlet that Marcia had placed on her head. Somewhere inside herself she began to feel a little bit different.

"All right," she whispered. "I'll go."

6.

TO THE T TOWER.

Jenna could not believe what was happening to her. She hardly had time to kiss everyone good-bye before Marcia had thrown her purple cloak over her and told her to stay close and keep up. Then the big black Heap door had unwillingly creaked itself open, and Jenna was whisked away from the only home she had ever known. was happening to her. She hardly had time to kiss everyone good-bye before Marcia had thrown her purple cloak over her and told her to stay close and keep up. Then the big black Heap door had unwillingly creaked itself open, and Jenna was whisked away from the only home she had ever known.

It was probably a good thing that, covered as she was by Marcia's cloak, Jenna could not see the bewildered faces of the six Heap boys or the desolate expressions on the faces of Sarah and Silas Heap as they watched the four-legged purple cloak swish around the corner at the end of Corridor 223 and disappear from view.

Marcia and Jenna took the long way back to the Wizard Tower. Marcia did not want to risk being seen outside with Jenna, and the dark winding corridors of the East Side seemed safer than the quick route she had taken earlier that morning. Marcia strode briskly along, and Jenna had to run beside her to have any hope of keeping up. Luckily all she carried with her was a small rucksack on her back with a few treasures to remind her of home; although, in the rush she had forgotten her birthday present.

It was midmorning by now and the rush hour was over. Much to Marcia's relief the damp corridors were almost deserted as she and Jenna traveled quietly along them, fluently taking each turn as Marcia's memory of her old trips to the Wizard Tower came back to her.

Hidden under Marcia's heavy cloak, Jenna could see very little, so she concentrated her gaze on the two pairs of feet below her: her own small, chunky feet in their scruffy brown boots and Marcia's long, pointy feet in their purple python skins striding over the dank gray slabs beneath them. Soon Jenna had stopped noticing her own boots and had become mesmerized by the purple pointed pythons dancing before her-left, right, left, right, left, right-as they crossed the miles of endless pa.s.sageways.

In this way the strange pair moved unnoticed through the Castle. Past the heavy murmuring doors that hid the many workshops where the people from the East Side spent their long working hours making boots, beer, clothes, boats, beds, saddles, candles, sails, bread, and more recently guns, uniforms and chains. Past the cold schoolrooms where bored children chanted their thirteen times-tables and past the empty, echoing storerooms where the Custodian Army had recently taken away most of the winter stores for its own use.

At long last Marcia and Jenna emerged through the narrow archway that led into the Wizard Tower courtyard. Jenna caught her breath in the cold air and stole a look out from under the cloak.

She gasped.

Rearing up in front of her was the Wizard Tower, so high that the golden Pyramid crowning it was almost lost in a wisp of low-lying cloud. The Tower shone a brilliant silver in the winter sunlight, so bright that it hurt Jenna's eyes, and the purple gla.s.s in its hundreds of tiny windows glittered and sparkled with a mysterious darkness that reflected the light and kept the secrets hidden behind them. A thin blue haze shimmered around the Tower, blurring its boundaries, and Jenna found it hard to tell where the Tower ended and the sky began. The air too was different; it smelled strange and sweet, of magical spells and old incense. And as Jenna stood, unable to stir another step, she knew that she was surrounded by the sounds, too soft to be heard, of ancient charms and incantations.

For the first time since Jenna had left her home she was afraid.

Marcia put a protective arm around Jenna's shoulders, for even Marcia remembered what it was like to first see the Tower. Terrifying.

"Come on, nearly there," murmured Marcia encouragingly, and together they slipped and slid across the snow-covered courtyard toward the huge marble steps that led up to the shimmering, silver entrance. Marcia was intent upon keeping her balance, and it was not until she reached the bottom of the steps that she noticed there was no longer a sentry on guard. She looked at her timepiece, puzzled. The sentry change was not due for fifteen minutes, so where was the s...o...b..ll-throwing boy she had told off that morning?

Marcia looked around, tutting to herself. Something was wrong. The sentry was not here. And yet he was was still here. He was, she suddenly realized, between the Here and the Not Here. still here. He was, she suddenly realized, between the Here and the Not Here.

He was nearly dead.

Marcia made a sudden dive toward a small mound by the archway, and Jenna fell out of the cloak.

"Dig!" hissed Marcia, scrabbling away at the mound. "He's here. Frozen."

Underneath the mound lay the thin white body of the sentry. He was curled up into a ball, and his flimsy cotton uniform was soaked with the snow and clung coldly to him, the acid-bright colors of the bizarre uniform looking tawdry in the cold winter sunlight. Jenna shivered at the sight of the boy, not from the cold but from an unknown, wordless memory that had flitted across her mind.

Marcia carefully brushed the snow from the boy's dark blue mouth while Jenna lay her hand on his white sticklike arm. She had never felt anyone so cold before. Surely he was already dead?

Jenna watched Marcia lean over the boy's face and mutter something under her breath. Marcia stopped, listened and looked concerned. Then she muttered again, more urgently this time, "Quicken, Youngling. Quicken." "Quicken, Youngling. Quicken." She paused for a moment and then breathed a long slow breath over the boy's face. The breath tumbled endlessly from Marcia's mouth, on and on, a warm pale pink cloud that enveloped the boy's mouth and nose and slowly, slowly seemed to take away the awful blue and replace it with a living glow. The boy did not stir, but Jenna thought that now she could see a faint rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing again. She paused for a moment and then breathed a long slow breath over the boy's face. The breath tumbled endlessly from Marcia's mouth, on and on, a warm pale pink cloud that enveloped the boy's mouth and nose and slowly, slowly seemed to take away the awful blue and replace it with a living glow. The boy did not stir, but Jenna thought that now she could see a faint rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing again.

"Quick!" whispered Marcia to Jenna. "He won't survive if we leave him here. We'll have to get him inside." Marcia gathered the boy into her arms and carried him up the wide marble steps. As she reached the top, the solid silver doors to the Wizard Tower swung silently open before them. Jenna took a deep breath and followed Marcia and the boy inside.

7.

WIZARD T TOWER.

It was only when the doors of the Wizard Tower had swung closed behind her and Jenna found herself standing in the huge golden entrance Hall that she realized just how much her life had changed. Jenna had never, ever seen or even dreamed of a place like this. She knew that most other people in the Castle would never see anything like it either. She was already becoming different from those she had left behind. doors of the Wizard Tower had swung closed behind her and Jenna found herself standing in the huge golden entrance Hall that she realized just how much her life had changed. Jenna had never, ever seen or even dreamed of a place like this. She knew that most other people in the Castle would never see anything like it either. She was already becoming different from those she had left behind.

Jenna gazed at the unfamiliar riches that surrounded her as she stood, entranced, in the ma.s.sive circular Hall. The golden walls flickered with fleeting pictures of mythical creatures, symbols and strange lands. The air was warm and smelled of incense. It was filled with a quiet, soft hum, the sound of the everyday Magyk Magyk that kept the Tower operating. Beneath Jenna's feet the floor moved as if it were sand. It was made up of hundreds of different colors that danced around her boots and spelled out the words WELCOME PRINCESS, WELCOME. Then, as she gazed in surprise, the letters changed to read, HURRY UP! that kept the Tower operating. Beneath Jenna's feet the floor moved as if it were sand. It was made up of hundreds of different colors that danced around her boots and spelled out the words WELCOME PRINCESS, WELCOME. Then, as she gazed in surprise, the letters changed to read, HURRY UP!

Jenna glanced up to see Marcia, who was staggering a little as she carried the sentry, step onto a silver spiral staircase.

"Come on," said Marcia impatiently. Jenna ran over, reached the bottom step and started to climb the stairs.

"No, just wait where you are," explained Marcia. "The stairs will do the rest."

"Go," said Marcia loudly and, to Jenna's amazement, the spiral staircase started turning. It was slow at first, but it soon picked up speed, whirling around faster and faster, up through the Tower until they reached the very top. Marcia stepped off and Jenna followed, jumping dizzily, just before the steps whirled back down again, called by another Wizard somewhere far below.

Marcia's big purple front door had already sprung open for them, and the fire in the grate hastily burst into flames. A sofa arranged itself in front of the fire, and two pillows and a blanket hurled themselves through the air and landed neatly on the sofa without Marcia having to say a word.

Jenna helped Marcia lay the sentry boy down on the sofa. He looked bad. His face was pinched and white with cold, his eyes were closed and he had begun to shiver uncontrollably.

"Shivering's a good sign," said Marcia briskly, then clicked her fingers. "Wet clothes off." "Wet clothes off."

The ridiculous sentry uniform flew off the boy and fluttered to the floor in a garish damp heap.

"You're rubbish," Marcia told it, and the uniform dismally gathered itself together and dripped over to the rubbish chute, where it threw itself in and disappeared.

Marcia smiled. "Good riddance," she said. "Now, dry clothes on dry clothes on."

A pair of warm pajamas appeared on the boy, and his shivering became a little less violent.

"Good," said Marcia. "We'll just sit with him for a while and let him warm up. He'll be fine."

Jenna settled herself down on a rug by the fire, and soon two steaming mugs of hot milk appeared. Marcia sat down beside her. Suddenly Jenna felt shy. The ExtraOrdinary Wizard was sitting next to her on the floor, just like Nicko did. What should she say? Jenna couldn't think of anything at all, except that her feet were cold, but she was too embarra.s.sed to take her boots off.

"Best get those boots off," said Marcia. "They're soaking."

Jenna unlaced her boots and pulled them off.

"Look at your socks. What a state," Marcia tutted.

Jenna went red. Her socks had previously belonged to Nicko, and before that they had been Edd's. Or were they Erik's? They were mostly darns and far too big for her.

Jenna waggled her toes by the fire and dried her feet.

"Would you like some new socks?" asked Marcia.

Jenna nodded shyly. A pair of thick, warm purple socks appeared on her feet.

"We'll keep the old ones though," said Marcia. "Clean," "Clean," she told them. she told them. "Fold." "Fold." The socks did what they were told; they shook off the dirt, which landed in a sticky pile on the hearth, then they neatly folded themselves up and lay down by the fire next to Jenna. Jenna smiled. She was glad Marcia hadn't called Sarah's best darning rubbish. The socks did what they were told; they shook off the dirt, which landed in a sticky pile on the hearth, then they neatly folded themselves up and lay down by the fire next to Jenna. Jenna smiled. She was glad Marcia hadn't called Sarah's best darning rubbish.

The midwinter afternoon drew on, and the light began to fade. The sentry boy had at last stopped shivering and was sleeping peacefully. Jenna was curled up by the fire, looking at one of Marcia's Magyk Magyk picture books when there was a frantic banging on the door. picture books when there was a frantic banging on the door.

"Come on on, Marcia. Open the door. It's me!" came an impatient voice from outside.

"It's Dad!" yelled Jenna.

"Shh..." said Marcia. "It might not be."

"For goodness' sake, open the door, will you?" said the impatient voice.

Marcia did a quick Translucent Spell Translucent Spell. Sure enough, to her irritation, outside the door stood Silas and Nicko. But that wasn't all. Sitting next to them, with its tongue lolling out and drool dribbling down its fur, was the wolf, wearing a spotted neckerchief.

Marcia had no choice but to let them in.

"Open!" Marcia abruptly told the door. Marcia abruptly told the door.

"h.e.l.lo, Jen." Nicko grinned. He stepped carefully onto Marcia's fine silk carpet, closely followed by Silas and the wolf, whose madly wagging tail swept Marcia's treasured collection of Fragile-Fairy pots crashing to the floor.