The Mad Apprentice

by Django Wexler

  “I promised my sister I would look after you,” Torment said, his voice a whispery growl. “But I must say you’re making it very difficult to keep my word.”

  “Sorry to be difficult,” Alice snarled back. “It’s a strange way of looking after someone, trying to crush them.”

  “If you had accepted my invitation to begin with, or even abandoned the labyrinth when you had the chance, you would have been in no danger. I can’t be blamed if you insist on wandering into the line of fire.” The wolf let out a long-suffering sigh. “However, as you are intent on being unreasonable, I have decided to offer you a bargain. Consider it my capitulation, if you like.”

  “A bargain?”

  “Not so loud, if you please. This is for you to decide.”

  Alice looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a whisper. “What do you want?”

  “I need to get you out of here with a minimum of fuss, or my sister will be very angry with me. Therefore, I agree to your terms. The others can go free. You and I will remain behind and have a little chat. I believe you have some . . . questions for me.”

  Questions? Alice’s heart leaped for a moment. He really does know something!

  “That seems generous to me,” Torment went on. “What do you say?”

  “What about Jacob?”

  “He must remain here. You must see that there is no other place for him now. But I hope that I have demonstrated that I am more than capable of protecting him from the Readers. He’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Alice bit her lip. “Isaac won’t like that.”

  “Isaac won’t have a choice. You are the one to whom my sister has gifted her power. The others will go where I send them.”

  Gifted her power? Alice was confused for a moment, then realized Torment meant her newfound power to twist the fabric of the labyrinth. He thinks it’s a gift from Ending. She paused thoughtfully. He must not know about the Dragon. I suppose Ending wouldn’t tell everyone.

  That wasn’t the point at issue, though. What do I do? She glanced surreptitiously at the others. Dex was winding a bandage around Soranna’s leg, while Isaac leaned out of the doorway, keeping watch. They stayed because I said I was going to help Jacob. She couldn’t give up now, just because Torment had waved the answer she wanted in front of her. They’ve helped me this far. I owe them.

  But if Torment is telling the truth, this could be my only chance to find out about my father.

  “I don’t . . .” Alice hesitated. “I don’t think I trust you. What’s to stop you from hurting the others once I let you take them away? And what’s to stop you from lying to me?” She shook her head. “Besides, you’ve done something awful to Jacob. He deserves the chance to make up his own mind.”

  “Foolish girl,” Torment growled. “I offer you mercy, and you throw it in my face.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Alice said. “We’ve beaten everything you’ve thrown at us so far.”

  “You have been lucky, and I have been indulgent. I warn you one last time. If you turn away from me now, all your friends will die in agony, and you will never know the truth. My patience is finished.”

  “Good,” Alice whispered. “So is mine.”

  She slashed the canteen through the water, shattering the image of the wolf’s staring eyes, and turned back to the others.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  TORMENT’S CHILDREN

  “ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE all right?” Alice said to Soranna.

  “I’m fine,” the girl said, stretching her leg to demonstrate. “It was just a scratch, really.”

  “I’m glad.” Alice shook her head. “You were amazing back there.”

  Soranna looked at the floor, but she was hiding a smile. “I just bought a little time.”

  “I, also, was impressed with your bravery, Sister Soranna,” Dex said.

  “I don’t mean to bring everyone down,” Isaac said, “but do we have any idea where we’re going?”

  They were walking down the corridor again, although it had turned several times and the doorway to the garden room was no longer in view. Other doorways opened onto corridors or rooms of every description—a smithy, a long row of stables, empty now, a chamber full of row on row of clay pots stoppered with wax seals. By unspoken agreement, the apprentices left all these alone and continued onward.

  “I must admit I have lost my sense of direction,” Dex said. “This keep is more like a maze than a proper dwelling.”

  “We’re still in the labyrinth,” Alice said grimly. “I can feel it.”

  “Are you certain?” Dex said. “The Most Favored told me that Readers do not generally live in their labyrinths, lest they fall under the power of their own servants.”

  “I know Geryon doesn’t,” Alice said. “But we’re definitely still in Torment’s domain.” She concentrated on the fabric in her mind’s eye. “It almost feels . . . newer, here. As if the labyrinth grew over this place.”

  “Torment could keep us wandering forever, then,” Isaac said.

  “He could try,” Alice said. “But I don’t think he will.” Reaching ahead with her newfound senses, she could feel the labyrinthine’s subtle touch on the fabric, guiding their steps. But she could also feel the buzz of another human, and unless there was someone else around, that meant Jacob. “It feels like he’s bringing us to him.”

  “That does not reassure me,” Isaac muttered.

  “Be cheered, Brother Isaac,” Dex said. “Whatever our fate, at least our quest nears an end. And I believe the auguries to be auspicious.”

  Alice wished she were so confident. As the red-hot anger she’d felt after Torment’s threats faded, it was replaced with misgivings. Challenging a labyrinthine seemed foolhardy. Even the old Readers are afraid of them. Her new power, however unusual, didn’t seem like it would go a long way toward evening the odds.

  Come on, Alice, she told herself. No jitters, not now.

  They rounded a corner and came to a large doorway hung with layers of silken curtains. She could feel the buzz of Jacob’s presence, just beyond.

  “This is it,” she told the others. “If Torment comes after us, don’t hold back.”

  All three nodded fiercely, even Soranna. A smile came to Alice’s lips, unbidden, followed by a flip-flop of her heart when she thought about what might happen. She took a deep breath, pulled aside the curtains, and stepped through.

  On the far side of another grand room, slumped across one of the padded armrests of a fantastically carved throne, was Jacob. Around him, the bas-relief walls depicted soldiers, and in front of them were ranks of statues, similarly accoutered, so it looked as though a stone army was marching out of the walls and into three-dimensional reality.

  Alice gave the carved men a long look, in case they were about to come to life and attack, but they only stood at motionless attention. She stepped forward, and Jacob raised his head, but the movement was jerky and wrong. It was as though an invisible puppeteer had lifted him by the hair.

  “Stop,” Jacob said, in a voice now wholly unlike his own. Alice got the impression that someone else was speaking through him. “I have stayed my hand thus far, but if you come any farther, I will be forced to destroy you. I am the master of this domain.” His head jiggled. “The master. I am.”

  Isaac, at Alice’s side, clenched his fists. “What has Torment done to him? He’s . . .”

  Alice put a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. “We’re here to help you, Jacob,” she said. “Just like we said earlier. We know it’s not your fault.”

  “Not my fault.” Jacob’s voice cracked, and he put his head in his hands. “It’s not. Not my fault. I never wanted this. Never wanted to be. To be master. I just . . . I wanted . . .”

  He threw back his head and screamed, slamming his fist against the back of the throne, over and over. Drops of blood flew across the ston
e where he’d scraped his fingers raw.

  “Evander!” Isaac broke away from Alice, running for his brother. She followed a few steps behind him. As they reached the bottom of the dais, Jacob abruptly jerked to his feet. A huge, dark shape materialized out of the shadows behind the throne and casually cuffed the haggard boy with one massive paw. He hit the ground, rolled once, and didn’t rise. Torment padded over to him, looking down, then raised his head and fixed his ice-blue eyes on Alice.

  “Pathetic,” the black wolf rumbled. “I had hoped he would last a good deal longer than this. A tool that doesn’t do as it’s told is no tool at all.”

  “Leave him be!” Isaac shouted. He took another step toward the dais, then halted when Torment put one huge paw on Jacob’s chest.

  “If he’s no use to you, then let us have him,” Alice said.

  “I’m afraid we’re long past the time for bargains, girl,” Torment said, his words rising into a growl. “Though you were right, of course. Your friends would have died one way or the other. That was the whole point of this farce, you see. Not that killing the lot of you is any kind of an achievement, but it’s a beginning. Readers. The world will be better off without you.”

  “Sister Alice!” Dex called.

  Alice looked over her shoulder. Wolves were emerging from among the statues, slinking out of the shadows and into the torchlight. They were long and lithe, smaller than Torment but still twice the size of the biggest dog Alice had ever seen. Their shaggy coats were black, brown, or streaky gray, though none had the utter light-drinking darkness of Torment’s ebony fur. At least a dozen of them surrounded Dex and Soranna, and more slipped among the statues to approach Alice and Isaac.

  “My children,” Torment said. “My pack. I’ve heard that some of Ending’s offspring are nearly as smart as their mother, but I’m afraid in my case we don’t breed quite as true. They understand me well enough, though.”

  A gray wolf stepped in front of Alice, lips curling back from ivory fangs. It growled, low and dangerous. She risked a glance at Isaac, who was still staring fixedly at Torment and Jacob.

  “That’s enough to make them useful tools,” Torment went on. He prodded Jacob’s limp body with his paw. “Unlike this one. A useless tool is broken, and a broken tool is fit only to be disposed of.” The huge black wolf fixed his ice-blue eyes on Alice. “Something you would do well to keep in mind, girl.”

  Then, with sudden, violent speed, Torment’s jaws snapped downward.

  Isaac screamed, an incoherent shriek of rage and pain. Cold wind lashed out from him, and a long, dagger-sharp icicle formed between his hands and lengthened into a spear. His hand thrust out, and the weapon followed the gesture as if it had been launched from a cannon. It embedded itself in Torment’s hide just behind his shoulder, biting deep, but against the wolf’s bulk, the spear looked like a toy. Torment, steaming muzzle stained red, glanced briefly at Isaac, then dipped his head in Alice’s direction.

  “Save me this one,” he said, loud enough to fill the room. “Kill the rest.”

  The wolves leaped all at once, but Alice was ready. She had Spike’s thread wrapped around her, and as the first beast came close, she repeated the maneuver she had used on the ant-thing, grabbing it by the forepaw and swinging it around like she was in the park playing crack-the-whip. She spun on her heel and let go, and Spike’s strength, added to the wolf’s momentum, sent the creature cartwheeling head over haunches to collide with the statues ranked on the other side of the room.

  Another wolf lunged past her, heading for Isaac, and she grabbed it by the tail and yanked hard, pulling it off its feet and leaving it spread-eagled on the floor. She vaulted over it, planting a foot heavily on its head in passing, and went for Isaac herself. There were three wolves between him and the throne, and another closing in from behind, but he had eyes only for Torment and Jacob.

  “Isaac!” Alice shouted. He didn’t look around. The wolf behind him was closing in. Alice grabbed one of its back legs and pulled, sending it skidding across the marble tiles.

  The three beasts in front of him got ready to leap. Alice yanked harder on Spike’s thread, pulling him into the world, and the dinosaur popped into being between Isaac and the wolves. When they jumped, he interposed himself, catching one of the creatures in the belly with his horns. The wolf toppled, whimpering in pain, but the other two fell on Spike, jaws snapping.

  Alice reached Isaac and grabbed him by the collar. She could still feel the bitter cold from the iceling thread he held, but he didn’t seem to be doing anything with it. She jerked him around to face her, and found his eyes staring and unfocused.

  “Isaac!” Wolves snapped and growled all around them. “Isaac!”

  When this failed to produce a response, she shook him as hard as she could. He blinked, and his eyes focused on her, but all at once they filled with tears.

  “He’s . . . he . . .” Isaac said.

  “I know,” Alice said. “And you’re going to be dead too, if you don’t do something.”

  “I—” Isaac began, but Alice had already let go of him and spun back to the fight. Where Soranna and Dex had been standing, there was a cluster of tangled, angry wolves, and at first Alice thought the two girls were somewhere underneath. Then she saw them stepping through the beasts, Soranna’s hand gripping Dex’s, her face tight with strain. Once they were clear, Soranna staggered, gasping, and Dex spun away, silver blades materializing in her hand. She cut down the first wolf to leap at her, and the others paused, milling behind the body.

  Alice didn’t intend to give them the chance to regain their courage. Spike was still fighting beside Isaac, but she unwrapped the Swarm from her own body and summoned as many swarmers as she could. Black balls of fur popped into existence around her and tumbled to the ground like fuzzy hailstones, bouncing a few times before righting themselves and gathering into a single, amorphous mass of sharp-beaked bodies. At her command, they flowed toward the pack of wolves from behind, launching themselves at the legs and ankles of the beasts like tiny lancers. Wolves howled and shrieked, and the swarmers’ tongues darted out to lick up the blood from their wounds.

  From behind her, she heard a whoomph like a gaslight igniting, and she felt a sudden wash of heat. She turned to find a vaguely humanoid figure made of a mass of living flame standing between Isaac and the wolves. The salamander reached out a hand and stroked one of the beasts on the flank, and it burst into flames as though it had been soaked in gasoline.

  But more wolves were coming, drifting silently through the alleys between the statues. Alice sent Spike charging at one that poked its head out, forcing it to duck quickly back between the stone soldiers.

  “Isaac!” Alice shouted. “Back up! We need to make a circle!”

  Isaac had his arms spread wide, raining ice down on one pack of wolves while his salamander chased another back, but he looked over his shoulder and gave a quick nod. He started to back up, and Alice had Spike charge the wolves between her and Dex, clearing a brief path through the mass of beasts. Soranna stood back-to-back with Dex, a long spear made of Dex’s moon-stuff in her hands, while Dex herself had changed completely. Alice guessed she’d transformed into the caryatid—she looked like a statue, with dark granite skin, silver armor to match her twin swords, and eyes that blazed with light. The wolves kept trying to circle around her blades, but she lashed out whenever they came in range, and several already bore big, ugly cuts.

  “Coming up behind you, Dex!” Alice said, not wanting to sneak up on the girl and get a sword in the face for her trouble. She followed her dinosaur, deploying the Swarm to push the wolves long enough that Isaac could come after her.

  With all four apprentices in one place, watching each other’s backs, the wolves had no way to sneak around. They kept trying, but one after another was sent flying by Spike, torched by the salamander, or slashed by Dex’s glittering blades. Even Soranna, with her
spear of sharpened moonlight, drove them back with vigorous thrusts. After a few minutes, with many of their number lying dead or bleeding, the wolves backed off, circling round and round but not daring to approach. Alice sent the Swarm at them again, and felt a fierce joy as a whole section of the pack broke and fled rather than face the onslaught of tiny needles. She grinned, baring her teeth, and turned to face the dais.

  “Well?” she asked the black wolf. “Is this the best you can do?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THE HUNT BEGINS

  TORMENT’S TONGUE, HUGE AND red, licked Jacob’s blood from around his muzzle. He padded forward, stepping from dais to floor without breaking stride. Muscles slid and rippled under his furry flanks like liquid darkness.

  “No,” he growled. “It is not.”

  He came on at a walk, stepping across the bodies of fallen wolves, huge eyes never leaving his prey.

  Alice nudged Isaac and nodded at Torment. “Together?”

  “Together,” Isaac agreed, with gritted teeth.

  The salamander spun, heading for Torment from the right side, while Spike charged from the left, his stubby legs working furiously. They arrived almost simultaneously. Torment ignored Spike, and the little dinosaur slammed into him at full tilt, all four horns driving deep into the black wolf’s side. A moment later, the salamander reached down and touched Torment’s shoulder, and leaping flames ran across his back. His ice-blue eyes, still on Alice, were framed in crimson and orange fire.

  His lips parted, slowly, and he gave his wet, nasty chuckle.

  “Is that,” he said, “the best you can do?”

  Torment’s forepaw swept around, taking the salamander’s legs out from underneath it. More flame blazed along the labyrinthine’s fur where he touched the fire-creature, but he seemed unconcerned. He opened his jaws wide, wider than any wolf had a right to, until he looked like a snake about to swallow an egg. With a mighty snap, they closed on the oval twist of flame the salamander had in place of a head. All the fires went out at once, like a snuffed candle, and wisps of acrid black smoke rose from Torment’s scorched fur.