Silently, like a snake through the grass, Septimus wriggled down the sandy dip between the dunes, pulling himself forward with his elbows. In the dim light of the rising moon his hair was the color of sand and his cloak the dull green of the grass above - but his movement had not gone unnoticed.
In the sandy darkness of the hideout, Beetle was suddenly awake, listening hard - something was wrong. Beetle edged out from under his HeatCloak, got to his feet and automatically ran his hand through his hair. He immediately wished he hadn't - his hand was now covered in a sticky mixture of hair oil and sand. Stooping awkwardly, for the hideout was not quite high enough for him to stand up, Beetle looked out through the narrow slit of the entrance. To his concern he saw Septimus slowly edging down the slope toward the beach. Beetle squeezed out of the hideout, dislodging some sand, which just missed Jenna's head.
Inside, Jenna slept on, dreaming of Nicko on his ship.
More like a turtle than a snake, Beetle set off down the slope toward Septimus, who had now stopped at the foot of the dip and was peering onto the beach. Beetle joined him in a shower of sand. Septimus turned and put a finger to his lips.
"Shh..."
"What's up?" Beetle whispered.
Septimus pointed to the left, along the beach. Silhouetted in the glow from the Light, Beetle saw two figures walking, boots in hand, along the line of the outgoing tide. They looked, Septimus thought somewhat enviously, as though they did not have a care in the world. As the figures drew nearer, it became clear that one was a boy and one was a girl. And as they drew nearer still, Septimus had the oddest feeling that he knew who they were.
"It can't be," he muttered under his breath.
"What can't be?" whispered Beetle.
"It looks like 409 and Lucy Gringe."
"409?"
"You know. Wolf Boy."
Beetle didn't actually know Wolf Boy, but he did know Lucy Gringe - and he figured Septimus was right.
"But...how could they possibly have gotten here?" Beetle whispered.
"They haven't," whispered Septimus. "It's a Projection. The Syren is trying to lure me out."
Beetle was skeptical. "Hey, wait a minute - how does this Syren thing know about Lucy and Wolf Boy?"
"I was so stupid," Septimus said. "I thought about them when I was doing my MindScreen."
Beetle and Septimus watched the Lucy and Wolf Boy figures draw nearer. They stopped by the edge of the water and stood looking out to sea.
"They're very realistic," said Beetle doubtfully. "I thought people were hard to Project?"
"Not for the Syren," said Septimus with a shudder, remembering the Beetle Projection begging him to wait. "Beetle, get down."
Septimus pushed Beetle down. The two figures had turned and begun to walk up the beach, heading toward the very place from where Beetle and Septimus were now rapidly retreating.
"Get back in the hideout," Septimus hissed.
A few seconds later, Jenna was covered in an avalanche of sand.
"Wha..." spluttered Jenna, suddenly awake.
"Shh..." hissed Septimus. He pointed outside. Scared, Jenna got to her feet and looked out.
Although the hideout's entrance was only large enough for one person to get through at a time, it was just about possible for three people to look out. And soon there were three pairs of eyes - one violet, one brown, and one brilliant green - watching the figures of Wolf Boy and Lucy Gringe climb wearily up the sandy slope between the dunes and head straight for the invisible - Septimus hoped - hideout.
The figures sat down in the sand no more than a couple of feet away from the entrance. A gasp of amazement escaped Jenna.
"Shh..." Septimus hissed, though he told himself that it didn't matter - Projections couldn't hear.
"What are they doing here?" mouthed Jenna.
"They're a Projection," Septimus mouthed back.
"A what?"
"A Projection."
But they're real, mouthed Jenna.
It was true, thought Septimus, that they did look very real. In fact, they looked so lifelike that he felt that if he reached out, the real 409 would actually be there, matted hair, sandy cloak and all. Septimus very nearly did reach out. He stopped just in time by telling himself that this was another of the Syren's tricks - as soon as he showed himself, the Syren would be there, waiting for him. She had sent out her Projections like terriers down a rabbit hole to flush out her quarry, and there was no way he was going to venture out of the rabbit hole until they had gone.
Suddenly one of the Projections spoke.
"Did you hear something just now?" it said, fiddling with its braids.
"They're talking," whispered Beetle. "Projections don't do that."
"The Syren's do," whispered Septimus. "I told you."
Outside the hideout the Projection-with-braids was getting twitchy. "That noise. There it was again."
"It's okay," said the Projection-with-matted-hair. "Probably sand snakes or something."
Beetle gulped. Sand snakes - he hadn't thought of that. The Projection-with-braids leaped to its feet. "Snakes?" it screamed.
"Snakes - aargh!" It began leaping around, frantically shaking its tunic. Showers of sand cascaded into the hideout.
"Sep, that is Lucy Gringe - for sure," Beetle hissed, rubbing the sand out of his eyes.
"No, it's not." Septimus was adamant.
"Ugh!" yelled the Projection-with-braids. "I hate snakes. I hate them!"
"Don't be silly, Sep. Of course it is," said Jenna. "No one else screams like that."
The Projection-with-matted-hair now also leaped up. "Shh, Lucy. Shh! Someone might hear us."
"Someone has heard you." Jenna's disembodied voice came from the hideout. The Projections grabbed hold of each other. "What did you say?" the Projection-with-braids asked the Projection-with-matted-hair.
"Me?" The Projection-with-matted-hair sounded offended. "I didn't say anything. That was a girl. In fact, it sounded like...well, it sounded to me a lot like Jenna Heap."
"Princess Jenna? Don't be stupid," snapped the Projection-with-braids. "It can't be."
"Yes, it can," said Jenna, emerging - apparently - from the inside of a sand dune. The Projection-with-braids uttered a pathetic squeak.
Jenna shook the sand from the folds of her tunic. "Hello, Wolf Boy, Lucy. Fancy seeing you here," she said as calmly as though she and Lucy had just met at a party. Lucy Gringe opened her mouth. "Lucy, please don't scream again," said Jenna. Lucy Gringe closed her mouth and sat down, for once lost for words. For Septimus's benefit, Jenna said, "You are real, aren't you?"
"Of course I am," Lucy replied indignantly. "In fact, I could ask you the same thing."
"Yes, I'm real too," said Jenna. She looked at Wolf Boy. "And so are you, I suppose." She grinned.
Wolf Boy did not look too sure. "This is so weird...." he muttered. He nodded his head toward what he now recognized as a standard Young Army hideout. "412 in there as well?" he asked.
"Of course," said Jenna. "And Beetle - Beetle's in there too."
"Yeah, well...there're a lot of them in the sand. They bite."
"No, it's Beetle. Oh, Sep, do come out now."
Septimus emerged looking embarrassed and somewhat annoyed. "What're you doing here, 409?" he asked.
"Could ask you the same thing," Wolf Boy replied, watching a sand-caked Beetle emerge from the hideout. "How many you got down there, 412 - a whole army?"
Beetle, Septimus and Wolf Boy sized one another up warily, as if each had encroached on the other's territory.
Jenna took charge. "Come on. Let's go down to the beach and light a fire. We can roast some Banana Bears."
Lucy looked amazed. "You've got Banana Bears in the middle of nowhere?" she asked.
"Yep," said Jenna. "Would you like some?"
"Anything that doesn't taste of fish is fine by me," said Lucy. Septimus began to object, but Jenna stopped him. "Look, Sep, this Young Army stuff has gone on for long enough. There's five of us now. We'll be fine."
Septimus did not know what to say. He felt mortified after all the fuss he had made about the Projections.
"There's some driftwood on the beach," said Beetle. "Coming, Sep? And, um, 419?"
"Four- oh-nine," Wolf Boy corrected him with a smile. "But you can call me Wolf Boy - everyone else does."
"And you can call me Beetle," said Beetle. He grinned. "And I don't bite."
Half an hour later they were gathered around a spluttering fire on the sand, roasting Banana Bears, unaware that not far away, Jakey Fry was watching them longingly. Jakey was perched on top of the highest point of Star Island - the star-shaped island just off the tip of the main island. He was cold and hungry and, he realized as he watched the group gathered around the fire, lonely too. He chewed the head of a small dried fish that he had found in his pocket and shivered; it was getting cold, but he did not dare go back to the Marauder for a blanket.
Dutifully Jakey scanned the horizon. He had been sent to watch the sea, not the land, but every now and then he could not resist a glance at the group on the beach. They looked tantalizingly close, and Jakey saw that the retreating tide was leaving behind a sandbar, which connected Star Island to their beach. A desire to run across the sandbar and join the group almost overwhelmed Jakey, but he did not budge. It wasn't the thought of his father and the murderous Crowe twins a stone's throw away on the Marauder that scared him - it was the old ghost that had been waiting for them on the wall of the old Star Island harbor when they had arrived. There was something about the ghost in his ancient dark blue robes and his staring, goatlike eyes that had terrified Jakey. It hadn't escaped his notice that even his father seemed scared of the ghost - and Jakey had never seen his father scared of anything. As soon as night had fallen, the ghost that had told Jakey to "Be off and watch for the ship, boy. I don't want to see your peaky face again until that ship is wrecked. And when it is, I want you right back here the very moment it hits those rocks - got that?" Jakey had indeed got that.
Oblivious to their envious spectator, the group on the beach settled down by the fire, and Wolf Boy and Lucy began to tell their story. Jenna and Beetle listened, enthralled, but Septimus could not shake off the feeling of threat. He sat a little way apart from the group. To preserve his night vision he did not look at the fire or the Light shining from the top of the Pinnacle.
"Relax, Sep," said Jenna, catching sight of another one of Septimus's anxious glances. "It's fine. This is such fun."
Septimus said nothing. He wished he felt it was fun, but he didn't. All he could think about was Syrah lying facedown at the foot of the steps. What fun had she had?
Lucy and Wolf Boy's story unfolded, but Septimus only half-listened. Still thinking about Syrah, he chewed a couple of Banana Bears and drank Jenna's offered hot chocolate, but the memories of the afternoon had settled over him like a damp blanket, and he watched the group around the fire as if, like Jakey, he was on another island. The fire began to die down and the air grew colder. Septimus huddled inside his cloak and, trying to ignore Lucy Gringe's cat noises, stared out to sea. Septimus could not believe it. No sooner had Beetle and Jenna - at last - understood that something really bad was happening on the island, then Lucy and Wolf Boy had appeared and turned the whole thing into a beach party. The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt. Instead of laughing at Lucy's stupid cat impressions, they should be discussing why the crew of the Marauder had taken the Light and put it on the Pinnacle; they should be trying to work out what Syrah had meant by a threat to the Castle; wondering what the Marauder's crew were doing right now. Septimus was sure that all these things were connected, but it was difficult to figure it out on his own. He needed to talk about it, to find out what Lucy and Wolf Boy knew. But every time he had tried to steer the conversation, he had gotten nowhere. They were, thought Septimus, fooling around as though they were on a day trip to the Portside dunes. While Lucy regaled the others with a description of chocolate fish heads, Septimus continued to look out into the darkness. It was then, to the background of a chorus of "eeeeeew," that he saw on the horizon the shape of a ship in full sail. Wolf Boy and Lucy's story was drawing to a close. They told how they had set out across the stepping stones to seek help from the people that Miarr had seen standing on top of the Pinnacle earlier that day. "Who'd have thought it was you?" Lucy giggled. The story ended and the group around the fire fell quiet. Septimus watched the steady progress of the ship.
"You okay, Sep?" Jenna asked after a while.
"There's a ship," he said, pointing out to sea. "Look."
Four heads turned to look, and four pairs of eyes that had been staring into the bright embers of the fire could see nothing.
"Sep, you need some sleep. Your eyes are playing tricks again," said Jenna. It was the last straw. Angrily Septimus sprang to his feet. "You just don't get it, do you?" he said. "You sit there, laughing and making stupid noises like nothing's happened, blind to what's right in front of you." Without another word, he strode off up the beach, back to the dunes.
"Sep - " said Beetle, getting up to go after him.
Jenna tugged Beetle back down beside her. "Let him go," she said. "Sometimes Sep just needs to be on his own. He'll be fine in the morning."
Septimus reached the dunes and his temper evaporated in the darkness. He stood for a moment, half-tempted to go back to the comforting glow of the fire on the beach and his friends sitting around it. But Septimus had had enough of backing down for one night. He decided to climb to the top of the dunes and watch the ship. He would prove he was right - if only to himself.
He scrambled up through the dunes and soon emerged onto the firmer ground of the central spit of land. He stopped and caught his breath. It was beautiful. The sky was clear and a shower of stars frosted the night. The tide was gently ebbing, leaving sandbars glistening in the moonlight, revealing for a few hours a secret pattern of ancient roads. Roads that had belonged to the people who had lived on the island long ago, before the floods came and divided one island into seven.
Septimus shaded his eyes and looked for the ship, half expecting that he had imagined it and that now he would see nothing. But there it was, much closer now, the moonlight picking out the white of the sails. It seemed to him to be sailing straight for the island. He was about to rush down to the beach to tell the others when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a line of blue lights glimmering through the trees at the top of the hill. He threw himself to the ground.
Septimus lay hidden in the grass, hardly daring to breathe. He watched the lights, waiting for them to move down the hill toward him, but they stayed in exactly the same place. Finally he figured out what the lights were - the line of little windows at the very top of the Peepe. As Septimus lay wondering what they could mean, he saw a roll of mist begin to emerge from the trees below the Peepe and tumble down the hill to the sea. He shivered. The air around him suddenly felt cold and the mist was oddly purposeful, as though it were on its way to an appointment.
Septimus got to his feet. Suddenly the combination of fire and friends were irresistible. He ran back down through the dunes, and in front of him the mist spread along the shore and began to tumble across the water, thickening as it went. The beach was already engulfed in mist, but the reddish glow from the fire guided him back. Breathless, he reached the fire. Beetle was busy throwing on more wood.
"Wotcha, Sep." He grinned, relieved to see Septimus. "We'll keep this going tonight. This mist is weird."