The Last Apprentice: Night Of The Soul-Stealer Part 18

'Well, lad, do you feel well enough to talk? Or shall we leave it until later?'

'I'd like to get it over with,' I replied. I knew that once I'd told him all that had happened, I'd feel a lot better. It would be the first step in putting it all behind me.

'Then start right at the beginning and leave nothing out!' said the Spook.

So I did exactly as he instructed, starting with my talk with Alice on the hillside, when she'd told me where to find Morgan, and finishing with the climax of the ritual - the arrival of Golgoth and how he'd threatened me after Morgan had died.

'So Morgan must have made a mistake,' I said. 'Golgoth arrived inside the pentacle-'

'Nay, lad,' said the Spook, shaking his head sadly, 'he must have recited the ritual word for word. You see, I'm to blame. I have Morgan's blood on my hands.'

'I don't understand. What do you mean?' I asked.

'I should have sorted him out then, after he tried to summon Golgoth all those years ago,' the Spook said.

'Morgan was very dangerous and beyond help even then. I knew that and should have put him in a pit, but his mother, Emily, begged and pleaded with me not to do it. He wanted power and was bitter and twisted with anger but she believed that was because life had treated him unfairly and he lacked a father to stand by him. I felt a bit sorry for the lad and cared for his mother so I let my heart rule my head. But deep down I knew that it wasn't a father he lacked. Mr Hurst and I had both tried to be that to him. No, what he really lacked was the discipline to be a spook, the courage and perseverance to dedicate his life to a craft that carries little in the way of worldly rewards. But instead of punishing him for trying to summon Golgoth, I simply terminated his apprenticeship and made him swear to me and his mother that he wouldn't pursue Golgoth or the grimoire.

'Cast out with no trade, Morgan sought power and wealth through necromancy and turned to the dark. I knew that each winter the temptation of Golgoth's power would grow, eventually becoming too much for him. So I set a trap for him, but only if he actually tried to summon the Lord of Winter would that trap be sprung-'

'Trap? What trap? I don't understand.'

'He was always lazy when it came to his studies,' said the Spook, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. 'Language was his weak point and he never learned his Latin vocabulary thoroughly. He was even worse at some of the other languages. He started to learn the Old Tongue in his third year. It was the language spoken by the first men who came to the County, the ones who built the Round Loaf and worshipped Golgoth. The ones who wrote the grimoire. He didn't get very far. He knew how to p.r.o.nounce it, how to read the Old Tongue aloud, but there were serious holes in his knowledge.

'You see, lad, I couldn't take any chances. Our first duty is always to the County. So years ago I had the grimoire copied. The original text was destroyed and the new version bound within the original cover. Several words were changed in the book to make the rituals useless. But only one change was made to the Golgoth ritual. The word wioutan, which means 'without' or 'outside', was replaced by wioinnan, which means 'within' ...'

'So that's why Golgoth appeared with him inside the pentacle,' I said, astonished at the Spook's trap. He'd kept that secret for years.

'I didn't trust Morgan so I set a snare for him just in case. I went to a lot of trouble having the grimoire copied and changed, but as I said, our duty is to protect the County. Emily knew what I'd done but she had a lot more faith in him than I did. She thought he'd changed his ways and would never try to raise Golgoth again. He swore that to her, and I was there to witness that oath. I never made any bones about where the grimoire was. That desk was always on view and Morgan knew where to come, and eventually I was proved right. He would have come for it years ago but the oath to his mother held him fast. As soon as I heard that she'd died, I feared the worst and realized why Morgan had contacted me back in Chipenden ...'

There was a long silence and the Spook scratched at his beard again, very deep in thought.

'What happened at the end?' I asked. 'Why didn't Golgoth kill me? Why did he just go away?'

'After being summoned, his time within the pentacle was limited. Every moment he remained there he'd have been growing weaker. At last he had to go. He had no choice. Of course, had you let him out, things would have been different. He'd have been free to roam the County, which would have been gripped by an endless winter. So you did well, lad. You did your duty and n.o.body can ask more than that.'

'How did you find me?' I asked.

'For that, your first thanks must be to the girl. When you didn't come back as I expected, I went down to speak to Andrew and find out what time you'd left the shop. It was your friend Alice who told me where you'd gone. She wanted to come and help search for you but I'd have none of it. I work better alone -1 don't need a girl trailing at my heels. We almost had to tie her to the chair to stop her from following me. When I arrived, a blizzard was blowing in from the north-east and the chapel was deserted. I poked around the graveyard for a bit but I didn't stay long. There was only one person I could turn to then. The only one who could find you in those conditions.

'Meg soon sniffed you out. She found your staff in the copse up on the hill and traced you to the barrow. Didn't take her long to find the entrance, but when I pulled back the stone, the tunnel was blocked. So it was Marcia who dug you out. That's three who deserve your thanks.'

'Three witches,' I pointed out.

The Spook ignored me. 'Anyway, Alice will stay back at Andrew's place, as you'd expect. As for Meg and her sister, from now on they'll be down the cellar steps behind the gate - but it won't be locked.'

'So you and Meg are friends again?'

'No, things aren't the way they were when we first met. I'd like to put the clock back but it just isn't possible. You see, lad, we've come to an agreement.

Things can't carry on as they are, but I'll tell you more about it when you've rested.'

'What about Dad?' I asked. 'Will he be all right now?'

'He was a good man and now that Morgan's dead and his power broken, your dad should have nothing to fear. Nothing at all. n.o.body knows exactly what happens after we die,' the Spook said with a sigh. 'If we did, there wouldn't be so many different religions all saying different things and all thinking they're right. To my mind it doesn't matter which one of them you follow. Or even if you walk alone and take your own path through life. As long as you live your life right and respect others' beliefs as your dad taught you, then you won't go far wrong. He'll find his way through to the light, all right. There's no need to worry about that. And thaf s enough talking for now. You've had a long difficult night so get yourself off to bed for a few hours.'

But it was more than just a few hours that I stayed in bed. I developed a raging fever and the doctor came up from Adlington three times before he was finally satisfied that I was on the mend. In fact it was almost a week before I was fit to come downstairs again, with most of the daylight hours spent wrapped in a blanket before the study fire.

The Spook didn't work me too hard at my lessons either, and it was another full week after that before I was finally fit enough to walk down into Adlington and see Alice. She was minding the shop alone. As no customers called, we had time for a long chat. We talked in the shop, leaning on the bare wooden counter.

While I'd been ill, the Spook had already visited and she knew most of what had happened. So all I had to do was fill in the details and apologize once more for keeping things from her.

'Anyway, Alice, thanks for telling the Spook I'd gone to the chapel. Otherwise I'd never have been found,' I said, reaching the end of my tale at last.

'I still wish you'd trusted me more, Tom. You should have told me a lot earlier what Morgan was doing to your dad.'

'I'm sorry' I told her. T won't hold anything back in future...'

'Never going to get in Old Gregory's good books though, am I? He don't trust me one little bit!'

'He thinks a lot better of you than he used to' I said. 'Give it time, that's all.'

'But in spring, when you go back to Chipenden, I'll have to stay here. Wish I could come with you ...'

'I thought you liked working in Andrew's shop.'

'Could be worse' Alice said, 'but Chipenden's lots better. I like being in that big house with its garden. And I'll miss you, Tom.'

'I'll miss you too, Alice. But at least you're not in Pendle. Anyway, next winter we'll be back and I'll try and visit you more often.'

'Be nice, that would' Alice said.

After a while she cheered up and finally, just as I was about to go, she asked me to do something.

'The morning you set off for Chipenden, will you ask Old Gregory if he'll take me as well?'

'I'll ask. But I don't think it'll do any good, Alice.'

'But you'll ask him, won't you? Ain't going to bite your head off for asking, is he?' 'OK. I'll ask him.' 'Promise?'

'I promise,' I said with a smile. Making promises to Alice had got me into trouble in the past but this one couldn't do much harm. At the worst, the Spook could only refuse.

Chapter 22.

Although it had been a cold winter, within three weeks of Morgan's death the weather turned much warmer and a thaw set in. That made it possible for Shanks to make his first delivery for ages. As usual, I helped him to unload, but when he left, the Spook followed him for quite a way down the clough and they had a long conversation together.

A few days later, just after breakfast, Shanks delivered a coffin to our door, the little pony almost staggering under its weight. After I'd helped him to untie it, we lifted it down carefully. It wasn't quite as heavy as it looked but it was a bit on the large side, and I'd never seen a coffin so well made. It had two bra.s.s carrying handles at each side and was made out of dark polished wood. We didn't carry it into the house but just left it close to the back door.

'What's this for?' I asked the Spook, as Shanks disappeared into the distance.

'That's for me to know and you to find out,' he said, tapping the side of his nose. 'Have a think and get back to me when you've worked it out.'

It was lunch time before my suspicions were confirmed.

'I'll be away for a few days, lad. Think you can manage on your own?'

My mouth was full, so I nodded and carried on tucking into my lamb stew.

'Aren't you going to ask where I'm going?'

'Spook's business?' I suggested.

'Nay, lad. This is family business. Meg and her sister are going home. They'll be sailing from Sunderland Point and I'm going to see them safely on their way.'

Sunderland Point was south of Heysham and the largest port in the County. Boats from all over the world sailed up the river Lune to anchor there. I knew then that I'd guessed right about the coffin.

'So Marcia will be in the box,' I said.

'Got it first time, lad,' said the Spook with a smile. 'An especially large dose of herb tea should keep her quiet. She could hardly board in the usual way. Might upset some of the pa.s.sengers. As far as the harbourmaster is concerned, Meg's sister died and she's taking her home for burial. Anyway, as I said, I'll be going with them as far as the port just to see them safely embarked. We'll be travelling by night of course. No doubt we'll book into an inn and Meg will spend the daylight hours behind closed curtains. I'll be sad to see her go but it's for the best.'

'I once overheard you talking to Meg about a garden that you shared together. Was it your garden at Chipenden?' I asked.

'Aye, it was, lad. The western garden, as you might expect. We spent many a happy hour sitting on that very same bench where I often give you lessons now.'

'So what happened?' I asked. 'Why did you bring Meg to Anglezarke and put her in the cellar. Why did she have to be dosed with herb tea?'

'What went on between Meg and me is our private business!' the Spook snapped, giving me a long, searching look. For a moment he looked really angry and I realized that my curiosity had made me go too far. But then he sighed and shook his head wearily.

'As you know, Meg is still a good-looking woman, but when she was young she was too pretty by far and turned lots of men's heads. I was jealous to a fault and we quarrelled too many times to count. But that wasn't all. She was wilful too and made lots of enemies in the County. Those who crossed her learned to fear her. And those who live in fear for too long become dangerous. She was finally accused of witchcraft and reports were made to the High Sheriff at Caster. It was a very serious business and they sent a constable to arrest her.'

'She'd have been safe in your house at Chipenden, wouldn't she? The boggart would have stopped the constable getting anywhere near her.'

'It would that, lad. It would have stopped him dead! But he was just doing his job, and although I loved Meg, I didn't want the loss of that young constable's life on my conscience so I had to make sure that Meg disappeared. I went down into the village and met him there and, with the help of the blacksmith as witness, managed to convince him that she'd fled the County.

'As a result I brought her here and she spent her summers locked in the room on the cellar steps and her winters confined to the house. It was either that or she'd swing at the end of a rope - as you know, they hang witches at Caster. At one point, years later, she got out and terrified some of the locals. To keep them quiet, I had to promise that I'd bind her in a pit in the cellar. That was why Shanks was so upset when he saw her that morning. Anyway, now, at long last, she's going home. It was something I should have done years ago but I just couldn't let her go.'

'So she wants to go home?'

'I think she knows it's for the best. Besides, Meg no longer feels about me the way I still feel about her,' he said, looking older and sadder than I'd ever seen him before. 'I'm going to miss her, lad. Miss her sorely. Life won't be the same without her. She was the only thing that made the winters here bearable ...'

At sunset I watched the Spook seal Meg's sister, Marcia, into her coffin. Then, when the last of the bra.s.s screws had been tightened, I helped him carry it down the clough. It was heavy and we staggered a bit under the weight, struggling to keep our feet on the soft, muddy ground, while Meg walked behind carrying her own bags. As we proceeded in solemn silence down into the gloom of the valley, it reminded me of a real funeral.

The Spook had arranged for a coach to be waiting for us on the road. The four horses became nervous as we approached, their nostrils dilating, breath steaming in the moonlight, and the driver struggled to control them. Once they'd been steadied, he climbed down, looking very nervous himself, came across to the Spook and touched his own cap in deference. His jowls were wobbling and he looked ready to jump out of his skin.

'There's nothing to fear, and as I promised, I'll pay you well. Now help me lift this up,' the Spook said to him, tapping Marcia's coffin. They heaved it up onto the rack at the rear of the coach and the Spook watched closely as the driver secured it with rope.

While they were busy, Meg approached and smiled at me grimly, showing her teeth.

'You're a dangerous boy, Tom Ward, a very dangerous boy,' she said, leaning closer. 'Take care not to make too many enemies ...'

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

'Will you do one thing for me, boy?' she whispered in my ear.

I nodded uneasily.

'He's not as cold as he'd have everyone believe,' she said, gesturing to my master. 'Look after him for me.' So I smiled and nodded.

When the Spook joined us, she gave him a warm, friendly smile that made me think that deep down she still cared something for him. And then she took hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze. He opened his mouth as if to say something but no words came out. Tears were glistening in his eyes and he looked choked with emotion.

Embarra.s.sed, I turned my back on them and walked away a few paces. They whispered to each other for a few moments and then walked to the coach together. While the driver held open the door and gave her a little bow, the Spook helped Meg up. Then he walked back over to me.

'Right, lad, we'll be on our way. You get yourself back to the house,' said the Spook.

'Would it help if I came with you?' I asked.

'Nay, lad, thanks all the same. There are some things that I need to do on my own. One day, when you're older, I think you'll understand. But I hope you'll never have to go through anything like this ...'

But I understood already: I remembered seeing him with Meg in the kitchen, tears on his cheeks. I knew how he felt. Also, I could imagine myself being in the Spook's position and having to say goodbye to Alice for the last time. Was this how Alice and I would end up?

A few moments later the Spook got in, and no sooner had he seated himself down next to Meg than the driver flicked his whip above the backs of the four horses. The coach trundled away and began to gather speed. They were on their way north, their destination Sunderland Point, while I made my way slowly back up the clough towards the house.

Once inside, I heated some pea soup for my supper and settled down beside the fire. There was no wind outside and I could hear every squeak and groan in the old house. The floorboards settled, a stair creaked, a mouse pattered behind the wall. And I even fancied that below in the cellar, far beyond the metal gate, I could hear the whisperings of the dead and the nearly dead down in their pits.

It was then that I realized just how far I'd come. There I was, alone in a big house with a cellar full of trapped boggarts and witches, and I wasn't scared one little bit. I was the Spook's apprentice and in the spring I'd have completed my first year of training. Four more years and I'd be a spook myself!

Chapter 23.

Late one morning at the very end of April, as I went to get water from the stream, the Spook followed me outside. The sun had just risen over the edge of the clough and he smiled up towards its faint warmth. On the cliff behind the house the ice stalact.i.tes were melting fast, water dripping onto the flags.

'This is the first day of spring, lad,' he said, 'so we'll go to Chipenden!'

I'd been waiting to hear those words for weeks. Since returning without Meg, the Spook had been very quiet, retreating into himself, and the house had seemed more gloomy and depressing than ever. I was desperate to get away.