The Last Apprentice: Complete Collection

by Joseph Delaney

  He lifted the staff above his head as if he was going to hit me with it. He seemed to grow in size until he towered over me. I’d never seen him so angry. Next, to my surprise and dismay, he lowered his staff, took a step toward me, and slapped me across the face. I stumbled backward, hardly able to believe that it had happened.

  It wasn’t a hard blow, but tears flooded into my eyes and ran down my cheeks. Dad had never slapped me like that. I couldn’t believe the Spook had done it, and I felt hurt inside. Hurt much more than by any physical pain.

  He stared hard at me for a few moments and shook his head as if I’d been a big disappointment to him. Then he went back through the gate, closing and locking it behind him.

  “Do as I say!” he commanded. “You were born into this world for a reason. Don’t throw it away for something you can’t change. If you won’t do it for me, do it for your mam’s sake. Go back to Chipenden. Then go to Caster and do what I’ve asked. That’s what she’d want. Make her proud of you.”

  With those words the Spook turned on his heels and, guiding Alice by the left elbow, walked her along the tunnel. I watched until they turned the corner and were out of sight.

  I must have waited there for half an hour or so, just staring at the locked gate, my mind numb.

  At last, all hope gone, I turned and began to retrace my steps. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Probably just obey the Spook, I suppose. Go back to Chipenden and then to Caster. What other choice did I have? But I couldn’t get out of my mind the fact that the Spook had slapped me. That it was probably the last time we’d ever meet, and we’d parted in anger and disappointment.

  I crossed the river, followed the cobble path, and climbed up into the cellar. Once there, I sat on the musty old carpet, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly I remembered another way down into the catacombs that would bring me out beyond the Silver Gate: the hatch that led down to the wine cellar, the one that some of the prisoners had escaped through! Could I get to it without being seen? It was just possible if everybody was in the cathedral.

  But even if I could get down into the catacombs, I didn’t know what I could do to help. Was it worth disobeying the Spook again and all for nothing? Was I just going to throw my life away when it was my duty to go to Caster and carry on learning my trade? Was the Spook right? Would Mam agree that it was the right thing to do? The thoughts just kept whirling around inside my head but led me to no clear answer.

  It was hard to be sure of anything, but the Spook had always told me to trust my instincts, and they seemed to be telling me that I had to try and do something to help. Thinking of that, I suddenly remembered Mam’s letter because that’s exactly what she’d said.

  “Only open the letter in a time of great need. . . . Trust your instincts.”

  It was a time of great need all right, so, very nervously, I pulled the envelope from my jacket pocket. I stared at it for a few moments, then tore it open and pulled out the letter within. Holding it close to the candle, I began to read.

  Dear Tom,

  You face a moment of great danger. I had not expected such a crisis to come so soon and now all I can do is prepare you by telling you what you face and indicating the outcomes that depend upon the decision that you must make.

  There is much that I cannot see, but one thing is certain. Your master will descend to the burial chamber at the deepest point of the catacombs and there he will confront the Bane in a struggle to the death. Of necessity, he will use Alice to lure it to that spot. He has no choice. But you do have a choice. You can go down to the burial chamber and try to help. But then, of the three who face the Bane, only two will leave the catacombs alive.

  If you turn back now, the two down there will surely die. And they’ll die in vain.

  Sometimes in this life it is necessary to sacrifice oneself for the good of others. I would like to offer you comfort but cannot. Be strong and do what your conscience tells you. Whatever you choose, I will always be proud of you.

  Mam

  I remembered what the Spook had once told me soon after he took me on as his apprentice. He’d spoken it with such conviction that I’d committed it to memory.

  “Above all, we don’t believe in prophecy. We don’t believe that the future is fixed.”

  I badly wanted to believe what the Spook said because, if Mam was right, one of us—the Spook, Alice, or I— would die below in the dark. But the letter in my hand told me beyond a shadow of all doubt that prophecy was possible. How else could Mam have known that the Spook and Alice would be down in the burial chamber now, about to face the Bane? And how had it happened that I’d read her letter at just the right time?

  Instinct? Was that enough to explain it? I shivered and felt more afraid than at any time since I’d started working for the Spook. I felt as if I were walking in a nightmare where everything had been decided in advance and I could do nothing and had no choice at all. How could there be a choice, when to leave Alice and the Spook and walk away would result in their deaths?

  And there was another reason why I had to go down into the catacombs again. The curse. Was that why the Spook had slapped me? Was he angry because he secretly believed in it and was afraid? All the more reason to help. Mam had once told me that he’d be my teacher and eventually become my friend. Whether that time had arrived or not, it was hard to say, but I was certainly more of a friend to him than Alice was, and the Spook needed me!

  When I left the yard and walked into the alley, it was still raining, but the skies were quiet. I sensed that more thunder was to come and we were in what my dad calls the eye of the storm. It was then, in the relative silence, that I heard the cathedral bell. It wasn’t the mournful sound that I’d heard from Andrew’s house, tolling for the priest who’d killed himself. It was a bright, hopeful bell summoning the congregation to the evening service.

  So I waited in the alley, leaning back against a wall to avoid the worst of the rain. I don’t know why I bothered, because I was already soaked to the skin. At last the bell stopped ringing, which I hoped meant that everybody was now inside the cathedral and out of the way. So I began to head slowly toward it, too.

  I turned the corner and approached the gate. The light was starting to fail, and the black clouds were still piled up overhead. Then the sky suddenly lit up with a sheet of lightning, and I saw that the area in front of the cathedral was completely deserted. I could see the building’s dark exterior with its big buttresses and its tall pointy windows. There was candlelight illuminating the stained glass, and in the window to the left of the door was the image of St. George dressed in armor, holding a sword and a shield with a red cross. On the right was St. Peter, standing in front of a fishing boat. And in the center, over the door, was the malevolent carving of the Bane, the gargoyle head glared at me.

  The saint I was named after wasn’t there. Thomas the Doubter. Thomas the Disbeliever. I didn’t know whether it was my mam or my dad who’d chosen that name, but they’d chosen it well. I didn’t believe what the Church believed; one day I’d be buried outside a churchyard, not in it. Once I became a spook, my bones could never rest in holy ground. But it didn’t bother me in the slightest. As the Spook often said, priests knew nothing.

  I could hear singing from inside the cathedral. Probably the choir I’d heard practicing after I visited Father Cairns in his confessional. For a moment I envied them their religion. They were lucky to have something they could all believe in together. It was easier to be inside the cathedral with all those people than to go down into the damp, cold catacombs alone.

  I walked across the flags and onto the wide gravel path that ran parallel to the north wall of the church. Instantly, as I was about to turn the corner, my heart lurched up into my mouth. There was somebody sitting down opposite the hatch with his back against the wall, sheltering from the rain. At his side was a stout wooden club. It was one of the churchwardens.

  I almost groaned aloud. I should have expected that. After all those prisoners h
ad escaped, they’d be worried about security—and their cellar full of wine and ale.

  I was filled with despair and almost gave up there and then, but just as I turned, about to tiptoe away, I heard a sound and listened again until I was sure. But I hadn’t been mistaken. It was the sound of snoring. The warden was asleep! How on earth could he have slept through all that thunder?

  Hardly able to believe my luck, I walked toward the hatch very, very slowly, trying not to let my boots crunch on the gravel, worrying that the warden might wake up at any moment and I’d have to run for it.

  I felt a lot better when I got closer. There were two empty bottles of wine nearby. He was probably drunk and unlikely to wake up for some time. However, I still couldn’t take any chances. I knelt and inserted Andrew’s key into the lock very carefully. A moment later I’d pulled the hatch open and lowered myself down onto the barrels below before easing it carefully back into place.

  I still had my tinderbox and a stub of candle that I always carried about with me. It didn’t take me long to light my candle. Now I could see—but I still didn’t know how I was going to find the burial chamber.

  CHAPTER XXI

  A Sacrifice

  I PICKED my way through the barrels and wine racks until I came to the door that led to the catacombs. By my reckoning, it was less than fifteen minutes or so before nightfall, so I didn’t have long. I knew that as soon as the sun went down, my master would make Alice summon the Bane for the final time.

  The Spook would try to stab the Bane through the heart with his blade, but he would only get one chance. If he succeeded, the energy released would probably kill him. It was brave of him to be prepared to sacrifice his life, but if he missed, Alice would also suffer. Realizing it had been tricked and was now trapped behind the Silver Gate forever, the Bane would be furious; Alice and my master would certainly both pay with their lives if it wasn’t destroyed quickly enough. It would press their bodies into the cobbles.

  At the bottom of the steps I paused. Which way should I go? Immediately my question was answered; one of Dad’s sayings came into my head.

  “Always put your best foot forward!”

  Well, my best foot was my left foot, so, rather than taking the tunnel directly ahead, the one that led to the Silver Gate and the underground river beyond it, I followed the one to the left. This was narrow, just wide enough to allow one person through, and it curved and sloped steeply downward so that I had a sense of descending a spiral.

  The deeper I went, the colder it got, and I knew that the dead were gathering. I kept glimpsing things out of the corner of my eye: the ghosts of the Little People, small shapes hardly more than glimmers of light that kept moving in and out of the tunnel walls. And I had a suspicion that there were more behind me than in front—a feeling that they were following me; that we were all moving down toward the burial chamber.

  At last I saw a flicker of candlelight ahead, and I emerged into the burial chamber. It was smaller than I’d expected, a circular room perhaps no more than twenty paces in diameter. There was a high shelf above, recessed into the rock, and on it were the large stone urns that held the remains of the ancient dead. At the center of the ceiling was a roughly circular opening like a chimney, a dark hole into which the candlelight couldn’t reach. From that hole dangled chains and a hook.

  Water was dripping from the stone ceiling and the walls were covered in green slime. There was a strong stench, too: a mixture of rot and stagnant water.

  A stone bench curved around the wall; the Spook was sitting on it, both hands leaning on his staff, while to his right was Alice, still wearing the blindfold and earplugs.

  As I approached, he stared at me, but he didn’t look angry anymore, just very sad.

  “You’re even dafter than I thought,” he said quietly as I walked up and stood before him. “Go back now while you still can. In a few moments it’ll be too late.”

  I shook my head. “Please, let me stay. I want to help.”

  The Spook let out a long sigh. “You might make things even worse,” he said. “If the Bane gets any warning at all, it’ll stay well clear of this place. The girl doesn’t know where she is, and I can close my mind against it. Can you? What if it reads your mind?”

  “The Bane tried to read my mind a while back. It wanted to know where you were. Where I was, too. But I stood up to it and it failed,” I told him.

  “How did you stop it?” he asked, his voice suddenly harsh.

  “I lied to it. I pretended that I was on my way home and I told it you were on your way to Chipenden.”

  “And did it believe you?”

  “It seemed to,” I said, suddenly feeling less certain.

  “Well, we’ll find out soon enough when it’s summoned. Go a little way back up the tunnel then,” said the Spook, his voice softer. “You’ll be able to watch from there. If things go badly, you might even have half a chance of escaping. Go on, lad! Don’t hesitate. It’s nearly time!”

  I did as I was told, moving back quite some distance into the tunnel. I knew that by now the sun would have dipped below the horizon and dusk would be drawing in. The Bane would leave its hiding place below ground. In its spirit form it could fly freely through the air and pass through solid rock. Once summoned, it would fly straight to Alice, faster than a hawk with folded wings, dropping like a stone toward its prey. If the Spook’s plan worked, it wouldn’t realize where Alice was waiting. Once it was here, it would be too late. But we’d be here, too, facing its anger when it realized it had been tricked and trapped.

  I watched the Spook climb to his feet and stand facing Alice. He bowed his head and stayed perfectly still for a long time. Had he been a priest I’d have thought he was praying. Finally he reached toward Alice, and I saw him draw the wax plug from her left ear.

  “Summon the Bane!” he shouted, in a loud voice that filled the chamber and echoed down the tunnel. “Do it now, girl! Don’t delay!”

  Alice didn’t speak. She didn’t even move. She didn’t need to because she called it from within her mind, willing its presence.

  There was no warning of its arrival. One moment there was just silence, the next there was a blast of cold and the Bane appeared in the chamber. From the neck upward, it was the replica of the gargoyle over the main cathedral door: gaping teeth, lolling tongue, huge dog’s ears, and wicked horns. From the neck down, it was a vast, black, shapeless boiling cloud.

  It had gained the strength to take on its original form! What chance had the Spook against it now?

  For one short moment the Bane remained perfectly still while its eyes darted everywhere. Eyes with pupils that were dark green, vertical slits. Pupils shaped like those of a goat.

  Then, upon realizing where it was, it let out a groan of anguish and dismay that boomed along the tunnel so that I could feel it vibrate through the very soles of my boots and shiver up into my bones.

  “Bound again, I am! Bound fast!” it cried with harsh, hissing coldness that echoed in the chambers and penetrated me like ice.

  “Aye,” said the Spook. “You’re here now and here you’ll stay, bound forever to this cursed place!”

  “Enjoy what you’ve done! Suck in your last breath, Old Bones. Tricked me, you have, but what for? What will you gain but the darkness of death? Nothing, you’ll be, but I’ll still have my way with the ones above. Still do my bidding, they will. Fresh blood they’ll send me down! So all for nothing it was!”

  The head of the Bane grew larger, the face becoming even more hideous, the chin lengthening and curving upward to meet the hooked nose. The dark cloud was boiling downward, forming flesh so that now a neck was visible and the beginnings of broad, powerful, muscular shoulders. But instead of skin, they were covered in rough green scales.

  I knew what the Spook was waiting for. The moment the chest was clearly defined, he would strike straight for the heart within. Even as I watched, the boiling cloud descended farther to form the body as far down as the waist.

/>   But I was mistaken! The Spook didn’t use his blade. As if appearing from nowhere, the silver chain was in his left hand, and he raised his arm to hurl it at the Bane.

  I’d seen him do it before. I’d watched him throw it at the witch, Bony Lizzie, so that it formed a perfect spiral and dropped upon her, binding her arms to her sides. She’d fallen to the ground and could do nothing but lie there snarling, the chain enclosing her body and tight against her teeth.

  The same would have happened here, I’m sure of it, and it would have been the Bane’s turn to lie there helplessly. But at the very moment when the Spook prepared to hurl the silver chain, Alice lurched to her feet and tore off her blindfold.

  I know she didn’t mean to do it, but somehow she got between the Spook and his target and spoiled his aim. Instead of landing over the Bane’s head, the silver chain fell against its shoulder. At its touch, the creature screamed out in agony and the chain fell to the floor.

  But it wasn’t over yet, and the Spook snatched up his staff. As he held it high, preparing to drive it into the Bane, there was a sudden click, and the retractable blade, made from an alloy containing silver, was now bared, glinting in the candlelight. The blade that I’d watched him sharpening at Heysham. I’d seen him use it once before, when he’d faced Tusk, the son of the old witch, Mother Malkin.

  Now the Spook stabbed his staff hard and fast, straight at the Bane, aiming for its heart. It tried to twist away but was too late to avoid the thrust completely. The blade pierced its left shoulder, and it screamed out in agony. Alice backed away, a look of terror on her face, while the Spook pulled back his staff and readied it for a second thrust, his face grim and determined.

  But suddenly, both candles were snuffed out, plunging the chamber and tunnel into darkness. Frantically, I used my tinderbox to light my own candle again, but it flickered into life to reveal that the Spook now stood alone in the chamber. The Bane had simply disappeared! And so had Alice!