The anguished face of the dead priest shimmered and almost faded away, but then it came back into sharp focus and looked very thoughtful.
“One morning I woke up and looked about me. I was lying on a bed and the sun was shining through the window and dust motes were dancing in that broad beam of sunlight, glittering like a thousand angels. But for a moment I could remember nothing. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know where I was. I couldn’t even remember my own name. I had no worries, no cares. I was just a point of consciousness. It was as if I was free of the burden of life. Free of all that I’d been and done. I was nobody, but I was everybody at the same time. And I was happy and content.”
“And that’s exactly what you are now,” I told him, seizing on the idea he’d just put forward. “You’re nobody, and you’re everybody. And you’ve already found the light. . . .”
Father Stocks’s mouth opened in astonishment. Then a slow smile spread across his face, a smile of joy and understanding. His ghost slowly faded away, and I smiled, too; my first smile for a long time. I’d just sent my first ghost into the light.
And, speaking of light, Mam’s room was suddenly full of it! As Father Stocks faded away, a bright shaft of sunlight fell through the window, and it too was full of gleaming dust motes, just as the dead priest had described.
I took a deep breath. It seemed to me that I’d been very low. The Fiend hadn’t been able to enter the room, but somehow he’d reached into my mind so that I would despair, open the door, and go out to him. Just in time the ghost of Father Stocks had appeared, and I’d forgotten my own pain. My ordeal was over. I knew instinctively that it was safe, at last, to leave the room.
I walked over to the window. The blood moon had gone. The nightmare was over. Suddenly my awareness of the passage of time returned. Two days must have passed since the arrival of the Fiend through the portal, so it was now the third day of August. Today was my birthday. I was fourteen.
The sky was blue, the grass green, and there wasn’t a trace of frost anywhere. It had all been a trick, an illusion to draw me from the room to my destruction.
Then I saw two people walking side by side down Hangman’s Hill toward the farm. One of them was limping, and even from a distance, I recognized them: It was the Spook and Alice. My master was carrying two bags and two staffs. But then I saw that something on the hill above them had changed.
A dark vertical shadow, like a scar, now divided the wood.
CHAPTER XXV
A New Order
I unlocked the door, left the house, and gazed about me at a scene of devastation. The chimney stack had collapsed onto the roof, and most of the windows had been smashed. Roof tiles were scattered about the yard, fence posts had been uprooted, and Mam’s rose stems had been torn from the wall. The Fiend had probably done that in frustration at not being able to get into her room.
But the destruction didn’t end there. I gazed up at Hangman’s Hill and realized just what that dark scar was. A wide path had been cut through the wood, the trees flattened. It looked as if the Fiend had felled them as he descended to attack the house. Felled them as easily as a scythe cuts a swath of grass. What strength and power that suggested! Even so, Mam’s room had withstood the attack.
But it was over now. The air was still and the birds were singing. I walked across the yard and headed toward Hangman’s Hill, meeting the Spook and Alice at the open gate of the north pasture. Alice limped forward and put her arms round me and gave me a big hug.
“Oh, Tom! I’m so glad to see you. I hardly dared hope that you’d survive.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more, lad,” said the Spook. “You were on your own from the moment you ran for the farm, and there was nothing that anybody could have done to help. Once here, we watched from the hill, but it was too risky to get any closer. By the time we arrived, the Fiend had conjured up a dark cloud, which had settled right over the house and yard, obscuring them from view, and we could hear him within it, battering, bellowing, and doing his worst. It was bad having to keep our distance and do nothing to help, but I put my trust in that mother of yours, hoping that what she’d done to the room would be enough to keep you safe. And it looks like that trust was well founded.”
“But he’s in the world now, isn’t he?” I asked, hoping that the Spook might contradict me.
Shattering my last hope, he just nodded grimly in silent confirmation. “Aye, he’s here all right. You can feel it. Something’s changed. It’s like the first chill in the autumn air. A warning of winter. A new order of things has begun. As Father Stocks once said, the Fiend is the dark made flesh, but Wurmalde and the witches could only control him for two days. They sent him after you, but now that’s over and he’ll be making his own plans. He’s no longer bound to their will, and hopefully he’ll forget you for a while. But now nobody in the County is safe. The power of the dark will grow even faster, and we’ll all have our work cut out to keep it at bay. Our trade was dangerous before, but what we face now doesn’t bear thinking about, lad!”
I pointed up at the scar that divided Hangman’s Wood. “Is there damage like that elsewhere?” I asked.
“Aye, lad, there is—but just along the direct path from Pendle Hill to here. Crops have been flattened, along with a good many trees and the odd building or two. No doubt lives have been lost, but once here the Fiend concentrated on trying to get at you; the County was spared what could have been far worse.”
“So we failed,” I said sadly. “A force that can do that is far too strong for anybody to face. How big is he? Is he some sort of giant?”
“According to the old books, he can take any shape he wants and make himself large or small,” the Spook replied. “But most of the time, he looks just like a man. Somebody you wouldn’t give a second glance. And he doesn’t always use brute strength; he often gets his way by cunning. How much of that is true, only time will tell. But cheer up, lad. Where there’s a will there’s a way. We’ll find the means to deal with him one day. Wurmalde is dead; without her the witch clans will soon be at one another’s throats again. And we’ve struck a mighty blow at the Malkins. That tower’s theirs no longer. Those two lamias seem to have made it their home. That means your trunks are safe, and we’ve got an even better place to operate from when we visit Pendle again—”
“What? We’re going back now?” I asked wearily. The thought of that was almost too much to bear.
“No, it’s back to Chipenden now for a well-earned rest. But we’ll go back one day. Either next year or the one after. The job’s not finished yet. And there’s a lot of hard practice ahead for you now. Had you got Grimalkin with the chain, there’d have been no need to use my staff, would there?”
I was too tired to argue, so I just nodded.
“Still, you escaped with your life, lad, which wasn’t too bad under the circumstances. By the time we reached the tree, which was just beyond the edge of the path cut by the Fiend, she’d freed herself and was long gone, but her blood was still on it. She’d thrown down my staff and couldn’t have touched the chain even if she’d wanted to. It’s back safe and sound in your bag for now. But that’s another enemy you’ve made for yourself—one more reason to be on your guard!”
I wasn’t too bothered about Grimalkin. One day I’d face her again, but it would be when I was older; when she could gain more satisfaction from killing me. But the idea of something as powerful as the Fiend terrified me. It made me really worried about the future—my own and that of the whole County.
“While I was in Mam’s room, Father Stocks’s ghost paid me a visit,” I told the Spook. “We talked, and I was able to send him toward the light.”
“Well done, lad. Father Stocks will be missed in the County, and I’ve lost a friend. Sending him to the light is something you can be proud of. There are things in this job that can give a lot of satisfaction, and giving peace to the unquiet dead is one of them.”
“Are James and Jack all right?” I asked.
> “As far as we know,” the Spook replied. “We went back to Downham with the villagers first, helping to carry back their wounded. Then we picked up our bags and came straight here while James headed for Malkin Tower. He was going to bring Jack and his family here—that is, if your brother was fit enough to travel.”
“Then couldn’t the three of us stay here for a few days until they arrive?” I asked. “We could clean up the place a bit. Make things a bit easier for them.”
“I suppose you’re right, lad. So be it. We’ll stay here and get things sorted.”
So that’s what we did. The three of us mucked in and cleared the mess from the rooms and brought a glazier up from the village to fix the windows. I climbed up onto the roof and did what I could with the chimney stack, managing to fix it well enough to allow the smoke to rise freely. It would do until we could get a mason to carry out a proper repair. After a few hours of hard work, we had the place clean and tidy, and by nightfall we’d eaten a good meal and had a welcoming fire blazing in the kitchen.
Of course, things would never be back to normal, but we just had to make the best of it. And I wondered if Ellie would be brave enough to live here at the farm again. She might just decide to take her child somewhere safer. After all, the witches knew where my house was; one day they might come here seeking revenge. I knew that a lot would depend on how well Jack recovered. If James did stay and work here, that might bolster Ellie’s courage.
The Spook dozed in front of the fire while Alice and I went outside and sat on the step, staring up at the stars. For a while we didn’t speak. I was the one who broke the silence.
“It’s my birthday today,” I told Alice. “I’m fourteen now.”
“Be a man soon then,” she said, giving me a mocking smile. “Bit scrawny, though, ain’t you? You’ll need feeding up a bit before then. Need a bit more inside you than that crumbly old cheese.”
I smiled back at her, and then I remembered what Tibb had said to me after Father Stocks’s blood had dribbled from his mouth onto my shirt.
I see a girl, soon to be a woman. The girl who will share your life. She will love you, she will betray you, and finally she will die for you.
Did he mean Mab? She’d shocked me by saying she loved me. I’d betrayed her, but she’d also betrayed me, by summoning the Fiend to hunt me down. Or did he mean Alice? If so, that prophecy was terrible. Could it possibly come true? I didn’t like to think about it, and it certainly wasn’t something to tell Alice, who believed that the future could be foretold. Better to say nothing. It would only make her unhappy.
But there was something else that made me feel a little uneasy. At first I was going to let it go, but a question kept buzzing around inside my head until I just had to ask it out loud.
“When I was with Mab and her sisters, something happened that made me think about something you once did. Mab seemed to believe she could own me in some sense—make me belong to her. But when she tried, I felt a pain on my left forearm, in the place where you once jabbed your fingernails into me. You said that you’d put your brand on me. That worries me, Alice. We put brands on cattle and sheep to show ownership. Is that what you’ve done to me? Have you used dark magic to control me in some way?”
Alice didn’t speak for quite a while. When she did, it was to ask me a question. “Just before you got the pain, what was Mab doing?”
“She was kissing me—”
“What did you let her do that for?” Alice asked sharply.
“I didn’t have much choice,” I replied. “My staff rolled out of my hand and I couldn’t move.”
“Good job I did put my brand on you, then. Otherwise you’d have been hers completely. Given her the keys without blinking an eye, you would.”
“So she couldn’t own me because you already did?”
Alice nodded. “Ain’t as bad as you make it sound. You should be grateful. What I’ve done means no witch can ever control you like that. It’s my mark, see. My brand. It warns them off. Apart from that, it don’t mean much, though. Not if you don’t want it to. Don’t have to sit next to me. Move if you want. Do you want to go?”
I shook my head. “I’m happy sitting here next to you.”
“And I’m happy here sitting next to you. So we’re both happy. What can be wrong with that?”
“Nothing. But don’t ever tell the Spook, though, or he’ll send you away again.”
We didn’t speak for a while, but then Alice reached across and got hold of my hand. Her left hand holding mine. I couldn’t believe how nice it was to sit there holding hands with her like that. It was even better than the other time on the way to her aunt’s at Staumin.
“What are you using?” I asked. “Fascination or glamour?”
“Both,” she said, giving me a wicked smile.
ONCE more, I’ve written most of this from memory, just using my notebook when necessary.
I’m back in Chipenden with Alice and the Spook, and it’s autumn again. The leaves are starting to fall, and the nights are drawing in.
At the farm things are going well. Jack’s able to talk again, and although he’s still not back to what he was, he’s improving steadily and expected to make a full recovery. James kept his promise and is living at the farm as well. He’s built a forge next to the new barn, and the work is starting to pick up. Not only that—he really does intend to go ahead and start brewing and selling ale, so the farm will live up to its original name once more.
I know that Ellie isn’t completely happy, though. She’s afraid that the witches might pay another visit, but she does feel better now that both Jack and his brother are around.
The arrival of the Fiend means that everything’s changed and become more dangerous. Once or twice, when we’ve talked about it, I think I’ve seen a flicker of fear on the Spook’s face. Things are certainly getting darker.
The news from down south isn’t good. It seems that the war is going badly and new recruits are needed to replace those who’ve fallen in battle. A press gang of soldiers is doing the rounds of the County, forcing young lads into the army against their will. The Spook is concerned that it might happen to me. He says that he usually sends each apprentice to work with another spook for six months or so—that way they see a different master at work and gain valuable experience. So, at the first sign of trouble, he’s thinking of placing me with Arkwright, who works beyond Caster. He doesn’t think the press gang will go that far north.
The trouble is, Alice wouldn’t be able to go with me. But I’ll just have to do as I’m told. He’s the Spook and I’m only the apprentice. And everything that he does is for the best.
THOMAS J. WARD
Credits
COVER ART © 2008 BY PATRICK ARRASMITH
COVER DESIGN BY CHAD W. BECKERMAN AND PAUL ZAKRIS
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used to advance the fictional narrative. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
The Last Apprentice: Attack of the Fiend
Copyright © 2008 by Joseph Delaney
First published in 2007 in Great Britain by The Bodley Head, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, under the title The Spook’s Battle.
First published in 2008 in the United States by Greenwillow Books.
The right of Joseph Delaney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act, 1988.
Illustrations copyright © 2008 by Patrick Arrasmith
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, r
everse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Delaney, Joseph, (date).
Attack of the Fiend / by Joseph Delaney ; [illustrations by Patrick Arrasmith].
p. cm. — (The last apprentice ; bk. 4)
“Greenwillow Books.”
Summary: When witches steal Tom’s inheritance and kidnap his relatives, Tom, the Spook, and Alice set out for Pendle Hill, a particularly dangerous district, in hopes of preventing the three witch clans from uniting to raise the Fiend, the Devil himself, thus bringing about an age of darkness.
ISBN 978-0-06-089127-5 (trade bdg.) ISBN 978-0-06-089128-2 (lib. bdg.)
[1. Apprentices—Fiction. 2. Supernatural—Fiction. 3. Witches—Fiction. 4. Devil—Fiction.]
I. Arrasmith, Patrick, ill. II. Title. PZ7.D373183Att 2008 [Fic]—dc22
2007036739
First American Edition 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
EPub Edition © NOVEMBER 2011 ISBN 9780062373168
Dedication
FOR MARIE
Contents
Dedication
Chapter I - The King’s Shilling
Chapter II - The Truth of Things
Chapter III - A Late Reply
Chapter IV - The Mill
Chapter V - A Shrill High Scream
Chapter VI - Water Lore
Chapter VII - Frog Kicks
Chapter VIII - The Fisherman’s Wife
Chapter IX - Whacks and Lumps!
The Last Apprentice: Complete Collection Page 90