“Let me off here, please!”
“Stop pushing me!”
“My turning, my turning!”
But Marcia had made the rush hour disappear. No Magyk was necessary for this—just the sight of Marcia was enough to stop everyone in their tracks. Most people on the East Side had never seen the ExtraOrdinary Wizard before. If they had seen her at all, it would have been on a day trip to the Wizard Tower Visitor Center, where they might have hung around the courtyard all day, hoping to catch a glimpse if they were lucky. For the ExtraOrdinary Wizard to be walking among them in the dank corridors of the East Side was unbelievable.
People gasped and shrank away. They melted into the shadows of the doorways and slipped away down side alleys. They muttered their own small spells to themselves. Some froze and stood stock-still like rabbits caught in the glare of a brilliant light. They gazed at Marcia as though she were a being from another planet, which she may well have been for all the similarities between her life and theirs.
But Marcia did not really notice this. Ten years as the ExtraOrdinary Wizard had insulated her from real life, and however much of a shock it had been when it first happened, she was now used to all giving way before her, to the bowing and the respectful murmuring that surrounded her.
Marcia swept off the main thoroughfare and headed down the narrow passage that led to the Heap household. On her travels Marcia had noticed that all the passages now had numbers that replaced the rather whimsical names they had had before, such as Windy Corner and Upside-Down Lane.
The Heaps’ address had previously been: Big Red Door, There and Back Again Row, The Ramblings.
Now it appeared to be: Room 16, Corridor 223, East Side. Marcia knew which one she preferred.
Marcia arrived at the Heaps’ door, which had been painted regulation-black by the Paint Patrol a few days ago. She could hear the noisy hubbub of a Heap breakfast going on behind the door. Marcia took some deep breaths.
She could put off the moment no longer.
5
AT THE HEAPS
Open,” Marcia told the black Heap door. But, being a door belonging to Silas Heap, it did nothing of the sort; in fact, Marcia thought she saw it tighten up its hinges and stiffen its lock. So she, Madam Marcia Overstrand, ExtraOrdinary Wizard, was reduced to banging on the door as hard as she could. No one answered. She tried again, harder and with both fists, but there was still no reply. Just as she was considering giving the door a good kick (and serve it right too) the door was pulled open, and Marcia came face-to-face with Silas Heap.
“Yes?” he said abruptly as if she were no more than an irritating salesperson.
For a brief moment Marcia was lost for words. She looked past Silas to see a room that appeared to have been recently hit by an explosion and was now, for some reason, packed full of boys. The boys were swarming around a small, dark-haired girl who was sitting at a table covered in a surprisingly clean white cloth. The girl was holding on to a small present wrapped in brightly colored paper and tied with red ribbon, laughing and pushing away some of the boys who were pretending to grab it. But one by one the girl and all the boys looked up, and a strange silence fell upon the Heap household.
“Good morning, Silas Heap,” said Marcia a little too graciously. “And good morning, Sarah Heap. And, er, all the little Heaps of course.”
The little Heaps, most of whom were no longer anything like little, said nothing. But six pairs of bright green eyes and one pair of deep violet eyes took in every detail of Marcia Overstrand. Marcia began to feel self-conscious. Did she have a smudge on her nose? Was some of her hair sticking up in a ridiculous fashion? Perhaps she had some spinach stuck in her teeth?
Marcia reminded herself that she had not had spinach for breakfast. Get on with it, Marcia, she told herself. You’re in charge here. So she turned to Silas, who was looking at her as if he hoped she would soon go away.
“I said good morning, Silas Heap,” said Marcia irritably.
“Indeed you did, Marcia, indeed you did,” said Silas. “And what brings you here after all these years?”
Marcia got straight to the point.
“I’ve come for the Princess,” she said.
“Who?” asked Silas.
“You know perfectly well who,” snapped Marcia, who didn’t like being questioned by anyone, least of all by Silas Heap.
“We don’t have any princesses here, Marcia,” said Silas. “I should have thought that was pretty obvious.”
Marcia looked around her. It was true, it was not somewhere you would ever expect to find a princess. In fact, Marcia had never seen such a mess before in her entire life.
In the middle of the chaos, by the newly lit fire, stood Sarah Heap. Sarah had been cooking porridge for the birthday breakfast when Marcia had pushed her way into her home, and into her life. Now she stood transfixed, holding the porridge pan in midair and staring at Marcia. Something in her gaze told Marcia that Sarah knew what was coming. This, thought Marcia, is not going to be easy. She decided to dump the tough act and start over again.
“May I sit down, please, Silas…Sarah?” she asked.
Sarah nodded. Silas scowled. Neither spoke.
Silas glanced at Sarah. She was sitting down, white-faced and trembling, and gathering the birthday girl up onto her lap, holding her closely. Silas wished more than anything that Marcia would go away and leave them all alone, but he knew they had to hear what she had come to say. He sighed heavily and said, “Nicko, give Marcia a chair.”
“Thank you, Nicko,” said Marcia as she sat down gingerly on one of Silas’s homemade chairs. The tousle-haired Nicko gave Marcia a crooked grin and retreated into the bunch of his brothers, who were hovering protectively around Sarah.
Marcia gazed at the Heaps and was amazed how alike they all were. All of them, even Sarah and Silas, shared the same curly straw-colored hair, and of course they all had the piercing green Wizard eyes. And in the middle of the Heaps sat the Princess, with her straight black hair and deep violet eyes. Marcia groaned to herself. All babies looked the same to Marcia, and it had never occurred to her how very different the Princess would look from the Heaps when she grew older. No wonder the spy had discovered her.
Silas Heap sat himself down on an upturned crate. “Well, Marcia, what’s going on?” he said.
Marcia’s mouth felt very dry. “Have you got a glass of water?” she asked.
Jenna scrambled down from Sarah’s lap and came over to Marcia, holding a battered wooden cup with teeth marks all around the top.
“Here, have my water. I don’t mind.” She gazed at Marcia admiringly. Jenna had never seen anyone like Marcia before, no one as purple, as shiny, as clean and expensive-looking, and certainly no one with such pointy shoes.
Marcia looked at the cup dubiously, but then, remembering who had given it to her, she said, “Thank you, Princess. Er, may I call you Jenna?”
Jenna did not reply. She was too busy staring at Marcia’s purple shoes.
“Answer Madam Marcia, poppet,” said Sarah Heap.
“Oh, yes, you may, Madam Marcia,” Jenna said, puzzled but polite.
“Thank you, Jenna. It’s nice to meet you after all this time. And please, just call me Marcia,” said Marcia, who could not help thinking how much Jenna looked like her mother.
Jenna slipped back to Sarah’s side, and Marcia forced herself to take a sip of water from the chewed cup.
“Out with it, then, Marcia,” said Silas from his upturned box. “What’s going on? As usual we seem to be the last to know over here.”
“Silas, do you and Sarah know who, er…Jenna…is?” asked Marcia.
“Yes. We do. Jenna is our daughter, that’s who she is,” said Silas stubbornly.
“But you guessed, didn’t you?” said Marcia, directing her gaze at Sarah.
“Yes,” said Sarah quietly.
“So you will understand when I say that she is not safe here anymore. I need to take her. Now,” Marcia said urgently.
“No!” yelled Jenna. “No!” She scrambled back onto Sarah’s lap. Sarah held her tightly.
Silas was angry. “Just because you’re the ExtraOrdinary Wizard, Marcia, you think you can just walk in here and mess up our lives like it doesn’t matter. You most certainly are not taking Jenna away. She is ours. Our only daughter. She is perfectly safe here, and she stays with us.”