The Last Apprentice: Complete Collection

by Joseph Delaney

  He paused again and shut his eyes. I stared at him and felt a wave of sadness as I realized how old and ill he was looking. He opened his eyes again and began to talk.

  “We sailed into a little harbor to take on water,” he said, beginning his tale as if he needed to get going quickly before he changed his mind. “It was a lonely place overhung with high, rocky hills, with just the harbormaster’s house and a few small fishermen’s cottages built of white stone. We’d been at sea for weeks and the captain, being a good man, said that we deserved a break. So he gave us all shore leave. We took it in two shifts and I got the second one, which started well after dark.

  “There were a dozen of us, and when we finally made it to the nearest tavern, which was on the edge of a village almost halfway up a mountain, it was almost ready to close. So we drank fast, throwing strong spirits down our throats like there was no tomorrow, and then bought a flagon of red wine each to drink on the way back to the ship.

  “I must have drunk too much, because I woke up alone at the side of the steep track that led down to the harbor. The sun was just about to come up, but I wasn’t too bothered because we weren’t sailing till noon. I climbed to my feet and dusted myself off. It was then that I heard the sound of distant sobbing.

  “I listened for almost a minute before I made up my mind. I mean, it sounded just like a woman, but how could I be sure? There are all sorts of strange tales from those parts about creatures that prey on travelers. I was alone and I don’t mind telling you I was scared, but if I hadn’t gone to see who was crying I’d never have met your mam and you wouldn’t be here now.

  “I climbed the steep hill at the side of the track and scrambled down the other side until it brought me right to the edge of a cliff. It was a high cliff, with the waves crashing on the rocks below, and I could see the ship at anchor in the bay and it was so small that it seemed as if it could fit into the palm of my hand.

  “A narrow rock jutted up from the cliff like a rat’s tooth, and a young woman was sitting with her back to it, facing out to sea. She’d been bound to that rock with a chain. Not only that, but she was as naked as the day she was born.”

  With those words, Dad blushed so deeply that his face turned almost County-red.

  “She started to try and tell me something then. Something that she feared. Something far worse than just being fastened to that rock. But she was speaking in her own language, and I didn’t understand a word of it—I still don’t, but she taught you well enough and, do you know, you were the only one that she bothered with in that way? She’s a good mother, but none of your brothers heard even a word of Greek.”

  I nodded. Some of my brothers hadn’t been best pleased by that, particularly Jack, and it had sometimes made life difficult for me.

  “No, she couldn’t explain in words what it was, but there was something out to sea that was terrifying her. I couldn’t think what it could be, but then the tip of the sun came up above the horizon and she screamed.

  “I stared at her, but I couldn’t believe what I was seeing: Tiny blisters began to erupt on her skin until, within less than a minute, she was a mass of sores. It was the sun she feared. To this day, as you’ve probably noticed, she finds it difficult to be out even in a County sun, but the sunlight in that land was fierce and without help she’d have died.”

  He paused to catch his breath, and I thought about Mam. I’d always known that she avoided sunlight—but it was something I’d just taken for granted.

  “What could I do?” Dad continued. “I had to think fast, so I took off my shirt and covered her with it. It wasn’t big enough, so there was nothing else for it and I had to use my trousers as well. Then I crouched there with my back to the sun, so that my shadow fell over her, protecting her from its fierce light.

  “I stayed that way until long after noon, when the sun finally moved out of sight behind the hill. By then my ship had sailed without me and my back was raw with sunburn, but your mam was alive and the blisters had already faded away. I struggled to get her free of the chain, but whoever had tied it knew even more about knots than I did, and I was a seaman. It was only when I finally got it off her that I noticed something so cruel that I could hardly believe it. I mean, she’s a good woman, your mam—how could someone have done such a thing, and to a woman, too?”

  Dad fell silent and stared down at his hands, and I could see that they were trembling with the memory of what he’d seen. I waited almost a minute, and then I prompted him gently.

  “What was it, Dad?” I asked. “What had they done?”

  When he looked up, his eyes were full of tears. “They’d nailed her left hand to the rock,” he said. “It was a thick nail with a broad head and I couldn’t begin to think how I was going to get her hand free without hurting her even more. But she just smiled and tore her hand free, leaving the nail still in the rock. There was blood dripping onto the ground at her feet, but she stood up and walked toward me as if it were nothing.

  “I took a step backward and almost fell over the cliff, but she put her right hand on my shoulder to steady me, and then we kissed. Being a seaman who visited dozens of ports each year, I’d kissed a few women before, but usually it was after I’d had a skinful of ale and was numb, sometimes even close to passing out. I’d never kissed a woman when sober and certainly never in broad daylight. I can’t explain it, but I knew right away that she was the one for me. The woman I’d spend the rest of my life with.”

  He started coughing then, and it went on for a long time. When he’d finished, it left him breathless and it was another couple of minutes before I spoke again. I should have let him rest, but I knew I might not get another chance. My mind was racing. Some things in Dad’s tale reminded me of what the Spook had written about Meg. She’d also been bound with a chain. When released, she’d kissed the Spook just as Mam had kissed Dad. I wondered if the chain was silver, but I couldn’t ask. Part of me didn’t want to know the answer. If Dad had wanted me to know, he’d have told me.

  “What happened next, Dad? How did you manage to get back home?”

  “Your mother had money, son. She lived alone in a big house set in a garden surrounded by a high wall. It wasn’t more than a mile or so from where I’d found her, so we went back there and I stayed. Her hand healed quickly, leaving not even the faintest of scars, and I taught her our language. Or, to be honest, she taught me how to teach her. I pointed at objects and said their names aloud. When she’d repeated what I’d said, I’d just nod to say it sounded right. Once was enough for each word. Your mam’s sharp, son. Really sharp. She’s a clever woman and never forgets a thing.

  “Anyway, I stayed at that house for weeks, and I was happy enough but for the odd night or so when her sisters came to visit. There were two of them, tall, fierce-looking women, and they used to build a fire out back behind the house and stay there till dawn, talking to your mam. Sometimes all three of them would dance around the fire; other nights they played dice. But each time they came, there were arguments and they gradually got worse.

  “I knew it was something to do with me, because her sisters would glare at me through the window with anger in their eyes and your mam would wave at me to go back into the room. No, they didn’t like me much, and that was the main reason, I think, that we left that house and came back to the County.

  “I’d set sail as a hired hand, an ordinary seaman, but I came back like a gentleman. Your mam paid for our passage home and we had a cabin all to ourselves. Then she bought this farm and we were married in the little church at Mellor, where my own mam and dad are buried. Your mother doesn’t believe what we believe, but she did it for me so that the neighbors wouldn’t talk, and before the end of the year your brother Jack was born. I’ve had a good life, son, and the best part of it started the day I met your mam. But I’m telling you this because I want you to understand. You do realize, don’t you, that one day when I’m gone, she’ll go back home, back to where she belongs?”

  My mouth ope
ned in amazement when Dad said that. “What about her family?” I asked. “Surely she wouldn’t leave her grandchildren?”

  Dad shook his head sadly. “I don’t think she’s any choice, son. She once told me she’s got what she calls ‘unfinished business’ back there. I don’t know what it is, and she never did tell me why she’d been fastened to the rock to die. She has her own world and her own life, and when the time comes, she’ll go back to it, so don’t make it hard for her. Look at me, lad. What do you see?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “What you see is an old man who’s not long for this life. I see the truth of it every time I look in a mirror, so don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. As for your mam, she’s still in the prime of life. She may not be the girl she once was, but she’s still got years of good living left in her. But for what I did that day, your mam wouldn’t have looked at me twice. She deserves her freedom, so let her go with a smile. Will you do that, son?”

  I nodded and then stayed with him until he calmed down and drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER XV

  The Silver Chain

  WHEN I went downstairs, Mam was already back. I was anxious to ask how the Spook was and what she’d done for him, but I didn’t get the chance. Through the kitchen window I’d spied Jack crossing the yard with Ellie, their baby cradled in her arms.

  “I’ve done what I can for your master, son,” Mam whispered just before Jack opened the door. “We’ll talk after supper.”

  For a moment Jack froze in the doorway, looking at me, a mixture of expressions flickering across his face. At last he smiled and walked forward to rest his arm across my shoulders.

  “Good to see you, Tom,” he said.

  “I was just passing on my way back to Chipenden,” I told him. “Thought I’d call in and see how you all were. I’d have visited earlier if I’d known that Dad had been so ill. . . .”

  “He’s on the mend now,” Jack said. “That’s the important thing.”

  “Oh, yes, Tom, he’s much better now,” Ellie agreed. “He’ll be right as rain in a few weeks.”

  I could see that the sad expression on Mam’s face said otherwise. The truth of it was that Dad would be lucky to make it till spring. She knew it, and so did I.

  At supper everybody seemed subdued, even Mam. I couldn’t work out whether it was my being there or Dad’s illness making everyone so quiet, but during the meal Jack could barely more than nod at me, and when he did speak it was to say something sarcastic.

  “You’re looking pale, Tom,” he said. “Must be all that skulking about in the dark. Can’t be good for you.”

  “Don’t be cruel, Jack!” Ellie scolded. “Anyway, what do you think about our Mary? Had her christened last month. Grown up quite a bit since you last saw her, hasn’t she?”

  I smiled and nodded. I was astonished to see how much the baby had grown. Instead of being a tiny thing with a red, wrinkled-up face, she was plump and round, with sturdy limbs and a watchful, alert expression. She looked ready to leave Ellie’s knee and start crawling round the kitchen floor.

  I hadn’t felt very hungry, but the moment Mam heaped a large portion of steaming hot pot onto my plate, I tucked in right away.

  No sooner had we finished than she smiled at Jack and Ellie. “I’ve something to discuss with Tom,” she said. “So why don’t you two go up and get an early night for once? And don’t worry about the washing-up, Ellie. I’ll see to it.”

  There was still some hot pot left in the dish, and I saw Jack’s eyes flicker toward it, then back to Mam. But Ellie stood up and Jack followed slowly. I could see he wasn’t best pleased.

  “I think I’ll just take the dogs and walk the boundary fence first,” he said. “There was a fox about last night.”

  As soon as they’d left the room, I blurted out the question I’d been dying to ask.

  “How is he, Mam? Is Mr. Gregory going to be all right?”

  “I’ve done what I can for him,” Mam said. “But injuries to the head usually sort themselves out one way or the other. Only time will tell. I think the sooner you get him back to Chipenden, the better. He’d be welcome here, but I’ve got to respect Jack and Ellie’s wishes.”

  I nodded and stared down at the table sadly.

  “Can you manage a second helping, Tom?” Mam asked.

  I didn’t need to be asked twice, and Mam smiled as I tucked in. “I’ll just go up and see how your dad is,” she said.

  She soon came back downstairs. “He’s fine,” she said. “He’s just nodded off to sleep again.”

  She sat down opposite and watched me eat, her face serious. “The wounds I saw on Alice’s fingers—is that where the Bane took blood from her?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you trust her now, after all that’s happened?” she asked suddenly.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. She’s crossed to the dark, but without her the Spook and lots of other innocent people would have died.”

  Mam sighed. “It’s a nasty business and I’m not sure the answer’s clear yet. I wish I could go with you and help you get your master back to Chipenden, because it won’t be an easy journey, but I can’t leave your dad. Without careful nursing he could suffer a relapse, and I can’t risk that happening.”

  I cleaned my plate with a piece of bread, then pushed back my chair.

  “I think I’d better get going, Mam. The longer I’m here, the more danger I’m putting you all in. There’s no way the Quisitor will let us go without a chase. And now the Bane’s free and has fed on Alice’s blood I can’t risk leading him here.”

  “Don’t rush off just yet,” Mam said. “I’ll slice you some ham and bread to eat on the road.”

  “Thanks, Mam.”

  She set to work slicing the bread while I watched, wishing I could stay longer. It would be good to be home again, even if only for one night.

  “Tom, in your lessons about witches, did Mr. Gregory tell you about those who use familiars?”

  I nodded. Different types of witches gained their power in different ways. Some used bone magic, others blood magic; recently he’d told me about a third and even more dangerous type. They used what was called familiar magic. They gave their blood to some creature—it could be a cat, a toad, or even a bat. In return, it became their eyes and ears and did their will. Sometimes it grew so powerful that they fell completely under its power and had little or no will of their own.

  “Well, that’s what Alice thinks she’s doing now, Tom— using familiar magic. She’s made a pact with that creature and is using it to get what she wants. But she’s playing a dangerous game, son. If she’s not careful, she’ll end up belonging to it and you’ll never really be able to trust her again. At least, not while the Bane still lives.”

  “Mr. Gregory said that it was getting stronger, Mam. That soon it would be able to take on the flesh of its original shape. I saw it down in the catacombs—it had shape-shifted into the Spook and tried to trick me. So it’s obviously been getting stronger down there.”

  “That’s true enough, but what’s just happened will have set it back a bit. You see, the Bane will have used up a lot of energy in flying free of a place it’s been bound to for so long. So for now it will be confused and lost, probably a spirit again, not strong enough to clothe itself in flesh at all. It probably won’t be able to regain its full strength until the blood pact with Alice is completed.”

  “Can it see through Alice’s eyes?” I asked.

  The thought was terrifying. I was about to go off with Alice through the darkness. I remembered the feel of the Bane’s weight on my head and shoulders, the expectation that I was about to be pressed and that my last moment had come. Maybe it was safer to wait until daylight. . . .

  “No, not yet, son. She gave it her blood and its freedom. In return it will have promised to obey her three times, but each time it’ll want more of her blood. After feeding it again at the Wortham burning, she’ll be weakened and finding it hard
er and harder to resist. If she feeds it once more, it will be able to see out of her eyes. Finally, on the last feeding, she’ll belong to it and it will have the strength to return to its true form. And there’ll be nothing anyone can do to save Alice then,” Mam said.

  “So wherever it is, it’ll be looking for Alice?”

  “It will, son, but for a short while, unless she calls it to her, the chances of it finding her will be very slight. Especially when she’s on the move. If she stays in one place for any length of time, the Bane will have more chance of finding her. Each night it’ll get a little stronger, though, especially if it chances upon some other victim. Any sort of blood would help it, animal or human. Someone alone in the dark would be easy to terrorize. Easy to bend to its will. In a while it’ll find Alice, and after that it’ll always be somewhere near to her except during daylight hours, when it’ll probably stay underground. Creatures of the dark rarely venture abroad when it’s light. But with the Bane on the loose, gaining in strength, everyone in the County should be afraid when night falls.”

  “How did it all start, Mam? Mr. Gregory told me that King Heys of the Little People had to sacrifice his sons to the Bane and that somehow the last son managed to bind it.”

  “It’s a sad and terrible story,” Mam said. “What happened to the king’s sons doesn’t bear thinking about. But I think it’s better that you know so you understand just what you’re up against. The Bane lived in the long barrows at Heysham, among the bones of the dead. First it took the eldest son there to use him as a plaything, picking the thoughts and dreams from his mind until little remained but misery and darkest despair. And so it went on, with son after son. Think how their father must have felt! He was a king and yet he could do nothing to help.”

  Mam sighed sadly. “Not one of Heys’s sons survived much more than a month of such torment. Three threw themselves from the cliffs nearby to smash themselves to pieces on the rocks below. Two refused to eat and wasted away. The sixth swam out to sea until his strength failed and he drowned—his body was brought back to shore by the spring tides. All six are buried in the stone graves carved from the rock. A further grave holds the body of their father, who died soon after his six sons, of a broken heart. So only Naze, the last of his children, his seventh son, outlived him.