A/N: Second Chapter! I'm not really sure how well I like this chapter, but I wrote it and it seems to work, so here it is. Very quick update! Isadora doesnt have a life! Well, she does, but she doesnt want to do her portfolio. I have no idea why I'm talking in third person. Anyway, read and review! And please, please tell me if something is wrong and I'll fix it!

Disclaimer: I dont own. Septimus Heap and Company belong to Angie Sage.

Alther slowed as he neared the tall, cylindrical tower that was the Keep. He had seen Septimus walk Marcia to Way VII yesterday, and when he had questioned Septimus about why Marcia looked as depressed as she did Septimus had told him that Marcia would want to tell him herself, and that he should go to the Keep in a day or two. So here he was. Septimus, he knew, would already be here. If something was wrong with Marcia, Septimus wouldn't leave her on her own, even if Milo was there. Alther summoned his strength and Passed Through the door to the Keep. Right away he heard voices from the sitting room. He floated in slowly, greeted by the sight of Milo and Septimus conversing quietly.

"She didn't sleep too well last night," Milo was saying, handing Septimus a cup of coffee.

"I wouldn't expect her to. Not after news like that. Does she know what she's going to do yet?" Septimus asked.

"She doesn't want the treatment. I'm trying to convince her otherwise, but she ignores me."

Alther cleared his throat and both of them turned their heads to face him. "Would you like to tell me just what exactly is going on with Marcia?" he queried, moving closer to them.

Septimus bowed his head, and Milo sighed. It was no use waiting for Marcia to tell him. She was denying it furiously. "Marcia's dying. She has lung cancer," Milo told him.

Alther did not react as Septimus and Milo had. He sighed, as if he had known it all along. "I'd wondered when the diagnosis was going to happen," he said calmly.

He succeeded in confusing both Milo and Septimus. "What do you mean?" Septimus asked.

Alther knew that Marcia would be furious with him for sharing why exactly he sort of knew, so he answered with, "Marcia had an…accident…when she was my apprentice. She was exposed to various chemicals and gases. I've always wondered if she would eventually be diagnosed with lung cancer, or another type of cancer."

Milo realized what accident Alther was talking about (Marcia had had a couple of them), and closed his eyes. He didn't know the full extent of this particular accident, but knew that it had changed her greatly. She couldn't connect with him after that, and shortly after broke up with him, preferring to deal with her thoughts on her own. She had told him very little about what had happened, but she had mentioned chemicals and testing.

Septimus had no idea what Alther was talking about, but he didn't question it.

Alther glanced towards the stair case. "Is Marcia upstairs?"

Milo nodded. "Yeah. I think she's asleep," he told him.

"Do you mind if I go talk to her?" Maybe he could convince her to take the treatment. He didn't think he could, Marcia was very good at arguing her points, but he would try. She had the rest of her life to live. She couldn't die now.

"Go ahead; she might prefer you to either of us."

Alther floated over to the stairs, and then up them towards the top, where Marcia's bedroom was located.

When Alther reached her bedroom door, he knocked softly.

"Go away, Milo." Marcia sounded very irritated. He went through the door anyway. Marcia didn't hear the door open, but she did sense the presence of another person in the room, so she sat up and looked over. Her expression softened when she saw that it was Alther. "Oh, Alther, I thought you were Milo," she said sheepishly.

He smiled softly. "How are you feeling?" he questioned, moving closer to her until he was sitting right beside her.

Her eyes welled up with tears. "Did they tell you?" she whispered.

"Yes, they did," he said softly.

She wiped at her eyes, forcing the tears back. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling," she confessed. "I'm dying, and there's just this icy emptiness in me."

He placed his ghostly hand over hers. "That's normal," he told her gently.

She looked down at their hands, and then to him, her eyes large and vulnerable. "What do I do, Alther? I want to live, but I don't want the treatment and Dandra says that's the only path I can take if I want a good chance of survival."

He offered her a kind, sympathetic smile. "That's all up to you, Marcia," he said, moving his hand to brush her hair away from her face. He used just a bit more ghostly Magyk just to make the action actually work, and she was thankful for the comforting gesture but he wasn't being very helpful in helping her decide.

"You're not being very helpful," she muttered, looking away.

He sighed. "What does Milo and Septimus want you to do?" he asked, trying something a little different.

"They want me to do the chemotherapy." She didn't hesitate in telling him, and wrinkled her nose as she said it.

"And do you want to do that?"

Alther always seemed to know what to say, what to ask. But she didn't know what to answer. "No. Maybe, I don't know. People say that the cure is worse than the disease." She paused, and a brief silence ensued. Then she spoke again. "I'm already dealing with this cough and the chest pain. I don't want to be nauseous, or fatigued all of the time, or in constant pain—I don't want any of it."

"And you want to live?"

Yes, he definitely knew what to ask. He was much more helpful than she had thought, and was helping her organize her thoughts. She did want to live. She finally had all she had ever wanted, and things were going so smoothly—she also didn't want to leave her little family behind. "I do. More than anything I do."

"Then you know what you have to do, don't you?" Alther said, his question more of a statement.

She didn't speak right away. He was right. Why was he always right? Hesitantly, she asked, "You'd all be there for me? If I decided to take the treatments?"

"I don't know how much I'll be able to do, being a ghost and all," he joked, trying to find at least a little humor in the situation.

He succeeded in getting her to smile. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it!"

He chuckled and patted her knee. "Yes, I will be. And so will Milo, and Septimus, and everyone else who cares about you."

Her smile disappeared. "Who else is there?"

Alther gave her a look. Did she really not know? "Dandra, and Jenna, and Silas—"

She interrupted him at the mention of her least favorite Heap. "Silas? Really, Alther!" she turned back to him, her mouth set in a harsh frown and her eyes narrowed. If he was trying to be funny, that wasn't the way to do it.

"No, I'm serious. He cares about your well-being. All of those years ago, when you were in Dungeon Number One, he was very concerned for you," Alther told her sincerely.

Marcia's frown started to fade. Was he really? "He never said," she said softly.

"He didn't want you to think he actually cared. You'd never let him hear the end of it," Alther teased her.

She laughed, but had to stop as it turned into a small coughing fit. Luckily it ended quickly. She smiled. "No, I wouldn't."

"My point is that you'll have a lot of support," Alther finally went back to the serious tone he had had before. So did Marcia, and her smile faded completely as she thought everything over once more.

It was completely silent until she said, "I think I'm going to take the treatments."

Alther smiled and got up, hovering a few inches off the floor. "Are you going to go tell the guys downstairs?"

"Now? Yes, I am," she decided, and she too got off her bed and then followed Alther down the stairs.