The Last Apprentice: Night Of The Soul-Stealer Part 15

'Right, lad, this'll be the smith and the mason. I'd half a mind to ask you to deal with Meg, but if s not right and I won't shirk what has to be done. So you get yourself back up those steps and light a big fire in every downstairs room. You've done well - we'll talk later.'

On the way up I met the smith and the mason. 'Mr Gregory's at the bottom of the steps,' I told them. They nodded and carried on down. Neither of them looked happy. It was grim work but it had to be done.

Later, when I went back down into the cellar to tell my master that I'd lit the fires, Meg was still in her pit but my silver chain was safely back in his possession and he handed it to me without a word. The stone and iron cover had been dragged into place and locked with metal pins driven deep into the ground.

Now she was imprisoned beneath iron bars just as firmly as the other witches. The Spook must have been really sad having to do that but he'd done it anyway. It had taken him almost a lifetime, but Meg was finally bound.

It was late afternoon before the work was done and the mason and smith had finally gone on their way. The Spook turned to me as he closed the door after them and scratched at his beard.

'There's just one more job before we eat, lad. You might as well get yourself upstairs and clean up that mess in the attic'

Even after all that had happened I hadn't forgotten about the grimoire. I hadn't forgotten what Morgan might do to Dad. And here was my chance! So, my hands shaking at the thought of how I was going to betray the Spook and steal the grimoire, I carried a mop and bucket up to the attic. After closing the skylight I began to clean the floor just as fast as I could.

Once the job was done it would take just a few moments to force the desk and hide the grimoire in my bedroom. I'd never seen the Spook go up to the attic, so I could give it to Morgan without him realizing that it had gone.

Having cleaned the floor of feathers and blood, I turned my attention to the writing desk. Although it was a well-crafted desk, ornate but soundly made, it wasn't going to take me long to get it open. I pulled the small crowbar from my jacket pocket and eased it into the crack between the doors.

At that moment I heard footsteps behind me and jumped up guiltily to see the Spook standing in the doorway, a look of anger and disbelief on his face.

'Well, lad! What have we here!'

'Nothing,' I lied. T was just cleaning this old desk.'

'Don't lie to me, lad. There's nothing worse in this world than a liar. So this is why you went back into the house. The girl couldn't understand it...'

'Morgan told me to get the grimoire from your desk in the attic!' I blurted out and hung my head in shame.

'I'm supposed to take it to him on Tuesday night at the graveyard chapel. I'm sorry - really sorry. I never wanted to betray you. I just couldn't bear the thought of what he might do to Dad if I didn't.'

'Your dad?' The Spook frowned. 'How can Morgan harm your dad?'

'My dad died, Mr Gregory.'

'Yes, the girl told me last night. I was sorry to hear that.'

'Well, Morgan summoned Dad's spirit and terrified him...'

The Spook held up his hand. 'Calm yourself down, lad. Stop gabbling and slow down. Where did all this happen?'

'In his room at the farm. He summoned his sister first and she brought Dad. It was Dad's voice and Morgan made him think he was in h.e.l.l. He did it again in Adlington - I definitely heard Dad's voice inside my head - and Morgan said he'd keep doing it if I didn't obey him. I went back to get the grimoire, but when I got up to the attic, the feral lamia was there feeding on the birds. I ran downstairs in a panic to find Meg there waiting. My first throw of the chain I missed her and thought I was done for.'

'Aye, it could have cost you your life,' my master said, shaking his head in disapproval.

'I was desperate,' I told him.

'I don't care, lad,' said the Spook, scratching at his beard. 'Didn't I tell you to steer clear of him? You should have told me everything, not sneaked up to steal something on the word of that fool Morgan.'

I was hurt by his use of the word 'steal'. There was no denying that it would have been theft, but to hear him use that word hurt me badly.

'I couldn't. Meg had you prisoner. Anyway, you didn't tell me everything,' I said angrily. 'Why didn't you tell me Morgan was your son? How can I know who to trust when you keep things like that a secret? You told me he was Mr and Mrs Hurst's son - but he wasn't, he was yours. The seventh you had with Emily Burns. I did what I did because I love my father. But your son would never do the same for you. He hates you. He wants to destroy you. He says you're an old fool!'

I knew I'd gone too far, but the Spook just smiled grimly and shook his head. T suppose there is no fool like an old fool, and I've certainly sometimes been that, but as for the rest...'

He looked at me hard, his green eyes glinting fiercely. 'Morgan is no son of mine! He's a liar!' he said, suddenly thumping the top of the desk, his face livid with anger. 'He was, he is and he always will be. He's just trying to confuse and manipulate you. I don't have any children - I've sometimes regretted that, but if I had a child, do you think I'd deny it? Would your father have denied one of you?'

I shook my head.

'Would you like to hear the full story, if it means that much to you?' I nodded.

'Well, I won't deny that I took Emily Burns from my own brother. Or that it hurt my own family badly. My brother particularly. I've never denied that and I've little to say in my defence except that I was young. I wanted her, lad, and I had to have her. One day you'll find out what I mean, but only half the fault was mine. Emily was a strong woman and she wanted me too. But it wasn't long before she tired of me, just as she'd tired of my brother. She moved on and found herself another man.

'Edwin Furner was his name, and although he was a seventh son of a seventh son, he worked as a tanner. Not everybody qualified to do so follows our trade. It was fine for just over two years, and they were happy together. But very soon after their second child was born, he took himself off for almost a year, leaving her to fend for herself with two young children.

'It would have been better had he stayed away, but he kept turning up again like a bad penny. Each time he went away again, she was expecting another of his children. There were seven in all. Morgan was Furner's seventh. After that he never came back.'

The Spook shook his head wearily. 'Emily had a hard life, lad, and we still stayed friends. So I helped her out when I could. Sometimes with money, sometimes finding work for her growing lads. As there was no father to fend for them, what else could I do? When Morgan was sixteen, I got him a job at Moor View Farm. The Hursts took to him so much that they eventually adopted him. They had no son of their own and the farm would have been his. But he couldn't stick to the work and things started to turn sour. It lasted barely a year.

'As I told you, they had a daughter. She was about the same age and her name was Eveline. Young as they were, Morgan and Eveline fell in love. Her parents would have none of it because they wanted them to be brother and sister, so they beat them both; made their lives not worth living. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Eveline drowned herself in the lake. After that, Emily begged me to get Morgan away from there and take him on as my apprentice. At the time it seemed a reasonable solution, but I had my doubts and I was proved right. Three years he lasted, until finally he went back to Emily, but he couldn't keep away from Moor View Farm. He still lives there sometimes - at least that's when he's not making mischief elsewhere.

'The sister must be a lingerer, someone who's not been able to cross over to the other side. And because of that, he's got her in his power. And there's no doubt that he is growing stronger. He certainly seems to have had some power over you. You'd better tell me exactly what's been happening between you.'

So I did, and as I talked, the Spook kept prompting me for details. I began with my meeting with Morgan at the graveyard chapel on the edge of the moor and ended with our conversation at Emily Burns's grave.

'I see,' said the Spook when I'd finished. 'It's clear enough now. As I told you before, Morgan was always fascinated by that ancient burial mound up on the moor. Dig into it long enough and you're bound to find something. Well, when he was my apprentice, he finally found a sealed chest with the grimoire inside. And that grimoire contains a ritual which is the only way to raise Golgoth. So thafs what he tried to do.

Fortunately I got there before the ritual had gone too far and put a stop to it.'

'What would have happened if he'd succeeded?' I asked.

'Doesn't bear thinking about, lad. One mistake in the ritual and he'd have been dead. Better that than completing it successfully. You see, he'd followed the instructions to the letter and drawn a pentacle on the floor of his room in Moor View Farm, a five-pointed star within three concentric circles. So if he got the rest right, he was safe enough inside there. But Golgoth would have materialized on the outside of the pentacle and have been loose in the County. Not for nothing was he called the Lord of Winter. It might have been years before summer returned. Freezing death and famine might have been our lot. Morgan offered up the farm dog as a sacrifice. Golgoth never touched it but the poor animal died of fright.

'So, as I said, I stopped Morgan in time. I terminated his apprenticeship and took the grimoire off him. Then his mother and I made him promise that he on would leave Golgoth alone and not try to raise him again. She believed his promise, and for her sake I gave him every chance and always hoped that her faith in him would be justified. But as I'd stopped him part of the way through the ritual, some of the power of Golgoth had already awoken and attached itself to him. Your mother was right - this is going to be a bitter winter. I'm convinced thafs to do with Golgoth and Morgan. After Morgan left my care, he turned to the dark and his powers have steadily increased. And he thinks that the grimoire will give him ultimate power.

'Already he can do things that a man shouldn't. Some are little more than conjuring tricks, like changing the temperature in a room to impress the gullible. But now it seems that he can also bind the dead to his will - not just ghosts but also spirits that hover in Limbo between this life and the other side. It pains me to say this, lad, but it looks very bad. I really do fear that Morgan has the ability to hurt your poor dad's spirit...'

The Spook looked up at the skylight, then down at the writing desk. He shook his head sadly. 'Well, lad, get yourself downstairs and we'll talk this through some more ...'

Fifteen minutes later my master was sitting there quietly in Meg's rocking chair and pea soup was simmering away in a pan.

'Got much appet.i.te, lad?' he asked.

'I've not eaten since yesterday' I told him.

At that he grinned, revealing the gap where the boggart had knocked out his front tooth, got up, put two bowls on the table and ladled hot soup into them. Soon I was dunking bread into the delicious steaming soup. The Spook didn't bother with the bread but he did empty his bowl.

'I am really sorry your dad's pa.s.sed away' he said, pushing the empty bowl away from him. 'He should have had nothing to fear after death. Unfortunately Morgan's using the power of Golgoth to hurt your dad and get at you through him. But don't worry, lad, we're going to put a stop to it just as soon as we can.

And as for the other nonsense, Morgan's not my son and never was.' He looked straight into my eyes again. 'Well, do you believe me?'

I nodded, but I can't have done it convincingly enough because the Spook sighed and shook his head. 'Well, lad, either he's a liar or I am. You'd better decide which one of us it is. If there's no trust between us, there's no point in you carrying on as my apprentice. But one thing's for sure, I wouldn't let you go off with him. Before that I'd take you by the scruff of your neck, give you back to your mother and let her knock some sense into that thick head.'

His tone was harsh, and after all that had happened I felt really upset. 'You couldn't take me back to my mother' I told him bitterly. 'I was too late for the funeral and I didn't even get to see her. Afterwards she went off somewhere - maybe back to her own land. I don't think she'll be coming back...'

'Well, give her s.p.a.ce, lad. She's just lost her husband and needs time to mourn and think. But you'll be seeing her again and not before too long, I'm sure. And that's not prophecy. It's good common sense. If she goes, she goes, but she'll want to say a proper farewell to all her sons before she does.

'Anyway, it's a terrible thing that Morgan's been doing, but don't worry - I will find him and stop.him once and for all.'

I was too weary to say anything, so I just nodded my head. I hoped he was right.

Chapter 18.

For all the Spook's promises, it wasn't possible to deal with Morgan right away. For the next two weeks the weather was so bad, we hardly ever went outdoors. Blizzard after blizzard surged up the clough, whirling snow against the windows and burying the front of the house almost up to the level of the first-floor bedrooms. I was starting to believe that Golgoth had indeed been woken and was grateful that Shanks had had the foresight to deliver extra provisions. When the Tuesday that Morgan had appointed for our meeting arrived, I was nervous and half-expected to see him turn up at the house. But the blizzards were so bad that no one would have made it across the moor. Still, every hour trapped in that house felt like torture. I was desperate to get out and find Morgan and put an end to my father's misery.

My master made us carry on with our usual routine of sleeping, eating and lessons during the blizzard, but something new was added. Every afternoon he went down the steps to the cellar to talk to Meg and take her something to eat. Usually it was just a few biscuits, but sometimes he carried the remainder of our lunch down. I wondered what the two of them talked about when he was down there, though I knew better than to ask. We'd agreed no more secrets but I realized the Spook still expected some privacy.

The other two witches had to manage the best they could, chewing on worms, slugs and anything else they could grub out of the damp earth, but Meg was still a special case. I half expected that, one day soon, the Spook would give Meg her herb tea again and bring her up from the cellar. She was certainly a far better cook than either of us, but after all that had happened I couldn't help feeling safer with her down in the pit. I did worry about the Spook though. Had he gone soft? After all his warnings about not trusting women, here he was breaking all his own rules again. I felt like telling him as much, but how could I when I could see that he was upset about Meg?

He still wasn't eating properly and one morning his eyes were red and swollen, as if he'd been rubbing them. I even wondered if he'd been crying and that made me think about how I would behave in a similar situation. What if I were the Spook, with Alice down there in the pit? Wouldn't I be doing the same? I was also wondering how Alice was getting on. If the weather ever improved, I'd decided to ask my master if I could pay a visit to Andrew's shop to visit her again.

Then, unexpectedly, one morning the weather did change. I'd kept thinking about the threat to Dad, hoping that, first chance, we'd be off after Morgan. But it wasn't to be. With the sunshine came spooks' business. My master and I were called away east, to Piatt Farm. It was boggart trouble, or so it seemed.

It was an hour or so before we could get started because first the Spook cut himself a new staff of rowan wood, and when we finally arrived, after a two-hour slog through the deep snow, there was no sign at all that a boggart had been in the vicinity and the farmer apologized profusely for being mistaken, blaming it on his wife, who was p.r.o.ne to sleepwalking. He said she'd moved things in the kitchen and clattered pots and pans to disturb the household, waking up the following morning without any memory of having done so. He seemed embarra.s.sed at having called us out for nothing and almost too eager to pay the Spook for his trouble.

I was furious that we'd wasted precious time and told the Spook as much on the way back. He agreed. T smell a rat,' he said. 'Unless I'm mistaken, lad, we've been sent on a wild goose chase. Ever seen anyone so keen to put his hand in his pocket and pay?'

I shook my head and we doubled our pace, the Spook out in the lead, eager to get home. We arrived to find the back door was already open. The lock had been forced. After checking that the cellar door and the gate were still secure, the Spook told me to wait in the kitchen and went upstairs. Five minutes later he came down shaking his head angrily.

'The grimoire's been taken!' he said. 'Well, lad, we certainly know who we're looking for! Who else would it be but Morgan? He's got Golgoth in his power enough to stop the snow, and then he plots and schemes to rob us.'

It seemed odd to me that Morgan hadn't tried to steal the grimoire before. It would have been easy enough during the summers, when Meg was locked in the room on the cellar steps and the upper part of the house was empty. But then I remembered what the Spook had told me - the promise Morgan had made to his mother not to try and raise Golgoth again. Perhaps he'd kept his word until his mother died; after he'd mourned her, he now felt free to do whatever he wanted.

'Well, there's little we can do today but get ourselves down to Adlington and ask that brother of mine to come up and fix the door,' said the Spook. 'But don't mention the grimoire. I'll tell him that in my own time. And on our way we'll pay a little visit to Moor View Farm. I doubt I'll find Morgan there but I've a few things I need to ask the Hursts.'

I wondered why he didn't want to tell Andrew about the grimoire, but I could tell that he wasn't in the mood for questions.

We set off right away for Moor View Farm. When we arrived, the Spook went in alone to talk to the Hursts and told me to wait in the yard. There was no sign at all of Morgan. My master spent some time in the farmhouse and came out frowning. Tight-lipped, he led the way to Andrew's shop.

The Spook behaved as if it were just a brotherly visit, making me wonder again why he made no mention at all of what had happened. It was good to see Alice though. She made us a late supper and we warmed ourselves in front of the big fire in the living room before seating ourselves at the table. After we'd finished eating, the Spook turned to Alice.

'That was a good supper, girl,' he said, giving her a faint smile, 'but now I've got private business to attend to with my brother and Tom. So it's best if you take yourself off to bed!'

'Why should I go up to bed?' she asked, bristling with anger. T live here, not you.'

'Please, Alice, do as John says,' Andrew said mildly. 'I'm sure there's a very good reason for him not wanting you to hear what's about to be said.'

Alice gave Andrew a withering look, but it was his house and she obeyed, almost slamming the door and stamping heavily up the stairs.

'The least she knows, the better,' said the Spook. 'I've just been to see the Hursts and had a bit of a talk with the wife about why young Alice left. It seemed she quarrelled with Morgan and went off in a temper, but in the couple of days before that, they'd been quite close and spent a lot of time together in his downstairs room. It may be nothing. It may well be that he just tried to win her over in the way he tried it on with the lad,' he said, nodding towards me. 'Tried and failed. But just in case, if s better that she doesn't hear this. This morning Morgan broke into my house and stole the grimoire.'

Andrew looked really concerned and opened his mouth to speak but I beat him to it. 'That's not fair!' I told the Spook. 'Alice hates Morgan. She told me so herself. Why else would she have left? There's no way she would have helped him.'

The Spook shook his head angrily. 'Some lessons are going to take longer to hammer into your daft head than others!' he snapped. 'After all this time you still haven't learned that the girl can never be fully trusted. She'll always need watching. That's why I've made sure she's close by. Other than that I wouldn't allow her within ten miles of you.'

'Look, hang on a minute,' Andrew interrupted. 'You say Morgan's got the grimoire! How could you be so foolish, John? You should have burned that infernal book while you had the chance! If he tries that ritual again, anything might happen. I was hoping to see a few more summers before my time is up. It should have been destroyed. I just can't understand why you've kept it all these years!'

'Look, Andrew, that's my business and you'll just have to trust me on that one. Let's just say that I had my reasons.'

'Emily, eh?'

The Spook ignored him.

'What's done is done and I wish Morgan had never taken the grimoire and it was still safe under lock and key.'

'So do I!' Andrew said, raising his voice and becoming angrier by the second. 'Your duty is the County. You've said that often enough. What you've done in keeping that book rather than burning it amounts to a dereliction of that duty!'

'Well, brother, I thank you for your hospitality but not for those harsh words,' the Spook said, an edge of anger in his own voice. T don't interfere in your business and you should trust me to do what's best for everyone. I just called here to let you know the situation we're in, but it's been a long hard day and it's time we were off to our beds before we say things we'll really regret!'

With that, we left Andrew's in a hurry. As we walked down the street I remembered why we'd visited in the first place.

'We didn't ask Andrew to fix the lock,' I said. 'Shall I run back and tell him?'

'No you won't, lad,' said the Spook angrily. 'Not even if he were the last locksmith in the County! I'd rather fix it myself.'

'Well, now the weather's improved,' I asked, 'could we start searching for Morgan tomorrow? I'm really worried about Dad ...'

'Leave that to me, lad,' the Spook said, his voice softer. 'I've thought of a few places Morgan might have gone to ground. Best thing is if I set off well before dawn tomorrow.'

'Can I come with you?' I asked.

'Nay, lad. I've more chance of catching him napping by myself. Trust me. It's for the best.'

I did trust the Spook. Although I could see some sense in what he was saying, I still wanted to go with him. I tried one more time to persuade him but realized I was just wasting my breath. If the Spook makes up his mind, you just have to accept it and let him get on with it.

The following morning, when I came down into the kitchen, there was no sign of the Spook. His cloak and staff had been taken and, as promised, he'd left the house long before dawn in search of Morgan. After I'd finished my breakfast my master still hadn't returned and I realized that his absence provided a chance just too good to miss. I was curious about Meg and decided to pay a quick visit to the cellar to see how she was doing. So I helped myself to the key on top of the bookcase, lit a candle and went down the steps. I went through the gate and locked it behind me, continuing downwards towards the cellar, but when I reached the landing with the three doors a voice suddenly called out from the middle cell: 'John! John! Is that you? Have you booked our pa.s.sage?'

I came to a sudden halt. It was Meg's voice. He'd released her from the pit and put her in a cell where she'd be more comfortable. So he had softened. No doubt she'd be back in the kitchen within days. But what did she mean by 'booked our pa.s.sage'? Was she going on a voyage? Was the Spook going with her?

Suddenly I heard Meg sniff loudly three times. 'Well, boy, what are you doing down here? Come to the door so that I can see you better ...'

She'd sniffed me out so it was no use creeping back up the steps. No doubt she'd tell the Spook where I'd been. So I walked up to the cell door and peered inside, taking care not to get too close.