T he next morning Billy Pot was up early mixing Spit Fyre's breakfast according to Septimus's strict instructions - but the dragon was not interested. Spit Fyre lay outside his new Dragon Kennel and regarded Billy drowsily through a half-open eye. As Billy approached with the breakfast bucket, a subterranean rumbling shook the ground and the dragon burped. Billy reeled.
He scratched his head, puzzled. If Billy didn't know better, he'd say that the dragon had already eaten.
"I'll leave yer bucket o' breakfast here, Mr. Spit Fyre," he said. "You might like it later."
Spit Fyre groaned and closed his half-open eye. Deep in his fire stomach he could feel the old Necromancer's bones lying heavy and Darke. He wished he'd never swallowed that nasty old sack. He didn't ever want to eat again.
As the dragon's fire stomach slowly geared up for the Darke task of dissolving the bones, the ghost of DomDaniel was reveling in being at the Wizard Tower once more. It had done him good to see old Nastier Underhand get her comeuppance at long last - it amused him to see her hanging around like any other common Wizard, waiting to be told what to do. And now he had cornered his old Apprentice, Alther Mella, who had pushed him off the golden pyramid at the top of the Wizard Tower. That memory was still there, clear as the day it had happened. DomDaniel was enjoying telling Alther in great detail all the Darke plans he intended to put into action now that, at last, he had become a ghost - when he began to feel a little strange. At that moment Alther noticed that DomDaniel's left leg had disappeared.
Alther watched, fascinated, as next DomDaniel's entire right arm faded from view, then his left knee...left forearm...toes...both ankles...Astonished, Alther stared as, piece by piece, his old master disappeared.
DomDaniel did not like the way Alther was watching him - it was, he considered, extremely rude and did not show him the respect he was due. He opened his mouth to tell Alther to stop gaping and his head vanished, leaving a disembodied left hand gesticulating wildly and a large part of his stomach wobbling with indignation.
And then, as DomDaniel's last few bones dissolved in Spit Fyre's fire stomach, the old Necromancer disappeared completely - and forever. For there was no Two-Faced Ring with him in Spit Fyre's stomach to get him out of trouble this time. It was a moment that Alther would savor for a very long time - along with the memory of the next few minutes when he found Marcia and told her that the Gathering was no more.
Marcia, too, savored the memory of the end of the very last Gathering. She particularly enjoyed remembering Tertius Fume's reaction when she had triumphantly evicted him from her sofa - he had a nerve, she thought - and told him that not only was the Gathering at an end, but there could be no Gathering ever again and he could get out of her rooms right now. Tertius Fume had refused to believe her until Alther had backed her up. It was true what Marcia had said to Beetle - Tertius Fume had no respect for women.
Tertius Fume had instituted the Siege to force Septimus to make the Draw. When he had realized that Septimus was missing, he had sworn to continue the Siege - forever if necessary - until Marcia told him the whereabouts of her Apprentice, whom Tertius Fume was convinced was Hidden somewhere in the Wizard Tower. But now, without the power of the Gathering behind him, Tertius Fume had no means of continuing the Siege. The Siege was ended.
Marcia wasted no time. She got Catchpole to escort Tertius Fume ignominiously off the premises and, as the Magyk returned to the Wizard Tower, she stood at the door smiling through gritted teeth.
"Good-bye, good-bye. Thank you so much for coming," she said as the bewildered Gathering floated out.
Outside the Wizard Tower a wet, cold rat watched the huge doors open - at last. To his amazement a seemingly endless stream of purple ghosts spilled down the steps. He waited impatiently until the last ghost had wandered out, then he bounded inside, calling out, "Message Rat!"
While Stanley scuttled between the feet of an excited group of Ordinary Wizards surrounding the recipient of his message, Tertius Fume was in a huddled conversation in the shadows of the Great Arch with what appeared to be a young sub-Wizard.
"Find him," said Tertius Fume. "The Queste is begun and must be done."
The Thing nodded. It watched Tertius Fume stride angrily back to the Manuscriptorium and began to chew the ends of Hildegarde's fingers. It was bored with InHabiting the sub-Wizard. Her ordinariness - and her niceness - was irritating; it had seeped into the Thing and made it feel rather depressed. The Thing fancied InHabiting something a little more unusual, something maybe with a twist of Darke to it. It leaned back against the cold lapis lazuli walls of the Great Arch and, passing the time by seeing how far it could spit bits of Hildegarde's nails, it waited for something to turn up.
Some hours earlier that morning, Ephaniah Grebe had woken in a damp tepee feeling very strange.
After Jenna, Septimus and Beetle had retreated to their tepee, Ephaniah had accepted a sweet, heavy drink from Morwenna. He knew as soon as he drank it that it was drugged and he had surreptitiously poured most of it away, but as the Witch Mother escorted him to his tepee, Ephaniah felt the ground sway beneath him and a bitter taste in his mouth. He had vainly fought against sleep - but his vivid dreams had woken him a few hours later. Determined not to fall asleep again, he had crept out of his tepee to breathe the fresh night air. There, in the middle of the Summer Circle, he saw Morwenna in a heated conversation with a young witch.
"Where is Marissa, pray?"
The young witch looked terrified.
"Tell me, Bryony. Now."
"Um. She went to Camp Heap."
"I did not give her permission. She will regret it. You will take her place."
"Me? Oh, but I don't think - "
"You don't have to think, girl. Just do as you are told. I want a tepee made ready for the Princess and her familiar. We will need it in the morning."
"Oh. Then she really is going to be - "
"Stop babbling. And be sure to make the tepee Secure."
Bryony bobbed an awkward curtsy and rushed off. How did you make a tepee Secure? she wondered.
How?