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Back at the Palace, Silas Heap was feeling considerably less perky. Slowly surfacing after a night of vivid and horrible dreams, Silas could not shake off a fuzzy, disconnected feeling in his head and a high-pitched ringing in his ears. He wandered downstairs, convinced that he had forgotten something although he could not remember what. Silas was hoping for a quiet breakfast in the family kitchen and he was pleased to see that there was no sign of Edmund and Ernold anywhere. He was due at the Wizard Tower for yet another Seal Watch later that morning and needed some quiet time to clear his head. But Silas was not to get it. He had just poured himself a strong cup of coffee when Sarah breezed in, slamming the door behind her.
“Ouch!” Silas winced.
Sarah looked at her husband disapprovingly. “I don’t know what you were doing last night, Silas Heap, but you deserve your headache this morning. Really!”
“What d’you mean?” mumbled Silas. He blinked a few times, trying to get rid of an odd blue fuzziness around Sarah. It made him feel queasy. “You know I was on midnight Seal Watch. And the twins were after me, so I had to wait for them too. You know that, Sarah. I explained at supper.”
“Silas, you didn’t get back until four o’clock in the morning. I had no idea you were going to be so late. You might have told me. What were you doing?”
Silas shook his head and wished he hadn’t. “I . . . I don’t know.” He groaned. “Watching that Seal, it makes you feel really sick.”
“Huh!” said Sarah. “Well, you can come and do something useful for a change. I need some help out here.”
“Sarah. Please. Just let me finish my coffee. I have to get to the Wizard Tower soon.”
“The coffee can wait, Silas.”
Silas gave in. He knew that arguing with Sarah would take as long as actually doing what she wanted. He got up and followed her out into the Long Walk.
All kinds of weird and wonderful objects, many of them extremely valuable, were now piled up in the Palace entrance hall, spilling out across the floor and teetering in unwieldy stacks. Sarah had grown used to it but after Silas had tripped over a pyramid of musical Coronation Frogs and become entangled in a string of metallic red and gold Coronation Bunting and nearly strangled himself, even Sarah had had to admit that things were out of control.
At Sir Hereward’s suggestion, Sarah had opened up a series of large rooms at the far end of the Long Walk to store the Coronation Clutter. With the old ghost’s help—few people are brave enough to refuse a request from a sword-carrying ghost with one arm and a dented head—Sarah now had a band of helpers. Only the Uncles—as Ernold and Edmund had become known—had successfully eluded her, which had made her all the more determined to get Silas to help. She propelled him into the entrance hall, where a disconsolate group of Forest Heaps and assorted Palace helpers were getting to work under the eagle eye of Sir Hereward.
“Sarah, it’s a mountain,” protested Silas. “I really don’t have the time.”
Sarah was unmoved. “The sooner you start, the sooner you’ll finish. You can help the boys with that.” She waved toward a large upright piano, glittering with red and gold curlicues, and sporting some very fine gold candleholders. Sam and Jo-Jo were struggling to push it onto the old carpet that ran down the center of the Long Walk.
“What on earth is it?” asked Silas.
“It’s the Coronation Pianola,” sighed Sarah. “Apparently you press the foot-pedals and it plays the music for the Coronation Tea. Little Betsy Beetle and her grandmother brought it. They pushed it all the way from the Ramblings. And do you know, Silas, they live on the top floor?”
“Goodness,” said Silas. Goaded by the thought of little Betsy Beetle—who had never grown taller than four feet high—he set to. “Right then, come on, boys—heave.”
“So where’s Milo when you need him?” Silas muttered grumpily as they maneuvered the Pianola onto the carpet. “As soon as there’s work to be done he’s gone. Typical.”
“Stop wasting your breath, Silas,” said Sarah. “You’ll need it to push.” She gathered up a tall pile of silver plates on the top of which she had precariously balanced the Coronation Canary—long dead and now stuffed and living forever in a golden cage—and followed on behind the Pianola. Behind Sarah came Barney Pot pulling a trolley full of Coronation Cutlery, Maizie Smalls with the Coronation Bunting (“Keep it away from Silas, Maizie, please,” Sarah had pleaded), Edd pushing the Coronation Puppet Theater, which wobbled along on three squeaky wheels, and Erik struggling with a huge sack of dusty Coronation Cushions, which made him sneeze.
At last the procession reached its destination. Just as Sarah was unlocking the big double doors that led to the old Conference room where she had decided to store the clutter, a door opposite opened and Milo emerged, blinking in surprise.
“About time,” said Silas. “Give this a shove, will you, Milo? I really must go. Oh, hello, Hildegarde, what are you doing here?”
Everyone stared at Hildegarde, who had followed Milo out of the room.
“Nothing!” said Hildegarde quickly.
“Exactly,” said Milo. He quickly locked the door and pocketed the key. “Excuse me, Sarah, Silas: I really must be off,” and before either of them could protest, Milo ushered Hildegarde rapidly away down the Long Walk.
“Typical!” said Silas. “Right, boys, one, two, three, heave.”
By the time the Coronation Clutter was stored away in the Conference room, Silas was very nearly late for his Seal Watch. Edmund and Ernold were nowhere to be found—which did not surprise him. Like Milo, they were never around when there was work to be done. Silas decided to risk Sarah’s ire at leaving the twins behind and hurried off to the Wizard Tower.
As Silas walked out of the Palace Gate he glanced up to the Alchemie Chimney and, to his amazement, saw a breath of smoke curl up into the sky. Silas felt a stab of excitement. The Fyre was lit! Very soon the tedious Seal Watches would be no more and the Two-Faced Ring would be confined to oblivion. Silas was surprised at the feeling of relief at the thought. He had not realized how much the brooding presence of the ring had gotten to him over the weeks.
A breeze coming in from the river obligingly bowled Silas quickly along Wizard Way and cleared his head in the process. He climbed the marble steps up to the Wizard Tower with a spring in his step, looking forward to lunch in the new canteen after his Watch. He whispered the password and the tall silver doors swung silently open to reveal a large crowd of Wizards in the Great Hall. This didn’t worry Silas; it was getting near lunchtime and the newly refurbished canteen was proving highly popular. As Silas wandered in, whistling a happy tune under his breath, a nearby Wizard nudged a neighbor. The word spread, and in a moment the Great Hall fell silent and all eyes—green, every one of them—were on Silas Heap.
“Um . . . hello,” said Silas, realizing that something was not as it should be. “Nice day. Well, actually a bit windy but lovely and—”
“Silas Heap!” Marcia’s voice carried across the Great Hall.
“Good morning, Marcia,” Silas called back, a little anxiously.
“No, it is not a good morning,” came Marcia’s reply.
The crowd of Wizards parted to give Marcia a clear run at her prey. As Silas watched the ExtraOrdinary Wizard advance toward him, an expression of fury on her face, he wished that he was still shoving the recalcitrant Pianola through a doorway—in fact Silas would have willingly shoved any number of recalcitrant Pianolas through an infinite variety of doorways in exchange for not being where he was right then.
Marcia reached him. “Where have you been?” she demanded.
“Sorry. Been moving stuff.” Silas looked at his timepiece. “I know I’m cutting it a bit fine, but I’m not late.”
“That, Silas Heap, is not the point.” Close up, Marcia looked scary. Her green eyes glittered angrily and her frown cut a deep line between her eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?” asked Silas nervously.
Marcia did not answer his question. “Silas Heap!” she announced. “You are under a Wizard Tower Restraint Order.”
“What?” gasped Silas.
Marcia clicked her fingers and pointed at the three Wizards nearest to Silas. “Sassarin Sarson. Bernard Bernard. Miroma Zoom. The Ordinary Wizard Silas Heap will remain in your custody until further notice. Take him to the Stranger Chamber.”
