The Last Apprentice: Complete Collection

by Joseph Delaney

  The Fiend could distort the flow of time, sometimes stop it altogether. I looked up through the cleft in the rock and saw a bird, some kind of hawk, high in the air near the crag above, but it wasn’t moving. It was still and frozen against the pale sky.

  “You were lucky to escape and reach these mountains,” the Fiend continued. “The attack took you all by surprise. The Pendle witches who oppose me didn’t detect the threat. Not even that clever little Mouldheel scryer. Your mother’s power came to nothing because I darkened her foresight—I’ve been doing it for many months now. How can she hope to prevail against an enemy who has my support? Tell me that!”

  I said nothing. It was bad enough facing something as terrible and powerful as the Ordeen. But behind her, ready with his even greater strength, stood the Fiend. Mam couldn’t hope to beat him. The whole enterprise seemed doomed to failure.

  “You’ve fallen silent, Tom. You know I’m right. So now I’ll tell you more. I’ll explain just how bad things really are. It’s your birthday soon. You’ll be fifteen, won’t you?”

  I didn’t reply, but he was correct. I’d be fifteen on the third of August, which was now little more than a week away.

  “Your mother is relying on you to carry through her doomed scheme,” he continued. “Do you want to know what part you’re to play in this foolishness?”

  “I trust Mam,” I told him. “I’m her son and I’ll do whatever she wants.”

  “Whatever? That’s generous, Tom. Very generous indeed. But you’ll need to be generous—extremely generous—because she needs a lot from you. Your life, no less. On your fifteenth birthday, you are to be sacrificed in order to fulfill her desperate need for victory.”

  “You’re lying!” I shouted, shaking with anger. “Mam loves me. She loves all her children. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Wouldn’t she, Tom? Not even for the greater good? Individuals are expendable. She believes in the light and is prepared to do anything to defeat the dark. Even to sacrifice the thing she loves most. That’s you, Tom. That’s what she’s going to do!”

  “She wouldn’t do that. She just wouldn’t . . .”

  “No? Are you so sure? A special blood sacrifice might just give her a chance. And your blood is very special, Tom. The blood of a seventh son of a seventh son.”

  I didn’t answer. I’d said enough already.

  The Fiend was enjoying my discomfort. “Not only that,” he continued. “You are your mother’s son as well. And she is not human. Do you know what she is?” He smiled. “She’s told you already, I can see that. You’re so easy to read, Tom, like an open book. So you know what she’s done in the past. How cruel and bloodthirsty she once was—a true servant of the dark. And despite her conversion to the light, she’s reverting back to her original form. Think how easy it will be for a murderous creature like that to sacrifice you for a cause she believes in!”

  Everything grew dark, and I felt as if I was falling through space—and about to experience some terrible impact. It was as if I’d been thrown off a cliff and was hurtling toward the rocks below. I was terrified, expecting to be smashed to pieces at any second.

  CHAPTER XIII

  My Blood

  MY whole body suddenly jerked, but I felt no pain. I opened my eyes and squinted up into bright sunlight. It was late morning. I sat up and looked about me. My staff lay at my side.

  Suddenly memory came flooding back. Alice! The cave!

  I sprang to my feet. I was on a mountain path with steep crags on both sides. Whether or not it was the same track I’d been following the night before was impossible to say, but there was no sign of the cleft in the rock with its lamia cave, nor of the evidence of their feeding.

  “Tom!”

  I turned and saw Alice walking along the path toward me, tears streaming down her face. I’d thought she was dead, so without thinking I ran forward and wrapped my arms about her. All my doubts had disappeared. What did it matter what the Spook thought? At that moment, after all we’d been through, I didn’t care. Alice returned my embrace, and for a long time we didn’t move, but then she stepped back and held me at arm’s length, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders.

  “Oh, Tom—did last night really happen? It was dark, and the lamia’s teeth were tearing at me. I was growing faint with loss of blood and I thought it was all over. I was dying. Then, the next moment, the sun was shining. And there isn’t a single mark on my body. Was it just a nightmare?”

  “It did happen,” I told her. “But you see, Grimalkin gave me two gifts, a blade and a dark wish. So when the lamia dragged you into her lair, I used the wish to save you. Then your father appeared.”

  So I told her what the Fiend had said, as much as I could remember; how he’d told me I was to be sacrificed. But I still didn’t tell Alice that Mam was the original Lamia. I couldn’t say it out loud. It hurt too much.

  “He’s just playing games with us,” Alice said bitterly. “Using everything to his advantage as usual. As for you being a sacrifice—don’t even give it a moment’s thought. Your mam has risked everything to protect you. Even last night she sent you away from danger. Lying, he is, Tom. Lying as always.”

  “Maybe. But he wasn’t lying last spring when he told me you were his daughter, was he? And what he said last night is possible. Even though Mam loves me, she might well sacrifice me and accept the pain—if it brought victory. Maybe she’s been protecting me so that she can sacrifice me when she needs to.”

  “Your mam wouldn’t do that, Tom.”

  “Not even if it was the only way to defeat the dark? Remember, she had me for that reason. She once told the Spook that I was her ‘gift to the County.’ I was born for a purpose.”

  “But she’d ask you first. Just like she asked you to give her the money from the trunks and come to Greece with her.”

  I paused, remembering Mam’s love for her family. “I think you’re right, Alice. If it’s meant to happen, then she will ask me.”

  “And what would your answer be, Tom?”

  I didn’t reply. I didn’t even like to think about it.

  “We both know you’d say yes.”

  “But it would all be for nothing anyway,” I said bitterly. “The Fiend will support the Ordeen with his own power while he lessens Mam’s. He’s already damaged her. Now she can’t see into the future any longer. That’s why she needs Mab. Even if the Ordeen was to be defeated, there’s still the Fiend to reckon with. It all seems so hopeless.”

  Without another word, we set off eastward once more, following the meandering path through the mountains. It was a long time before we spoke again.

  We finally descended through a pine forest, then crossed the arid plain toward Meteora. I knew that the monasteries were built on high rocks, so even if we’d wandered too far south, we should still be able to see them from a good distance.

  On the second day of our journey, we thought we saw dust rising into the sky on the horizon. It could have been Mam’s party—or maybe it was the maenads who’d attacked them. So, to avoid the risk of capture, we kept our distance.

  Then at last, to the northeast, we saw the rocks of Meteora. The closer we got, the more spectacular they appeared. Rising from green thickets of trees and scrub, huge pillars of rock, sculpted by the elements, towered above us. And perched on their summits were the famed monasteries. It seemed impossible that such buildings could have been constructed on those perilous heights, let alone made secure enough to withstand the ravages of weather and time.

  The small walled town of Kalambaka lay at the foot of the rocks, bordered to the south by groves of olive trees. Shielding my eyes against the sun, I searched the horizon. Mam had feared that we might be too late, but there was as yet no sign of the Ordeen’s citadel.

  We skirted the town and made our camp deep within the thickets below the rocks, hiding away from any watchers. Only the monks could look down on us from their strongholds.

  The town was lit by lanterns strung on rope
s between the houses; they moved to and fro when the wind was up. That first night we spent hours watching them: the stars above slowly wheeling about the sky from east to west while the lanterns danced below. We ate well, too. Alice caught some rabbits and they proved to be as succulent as any we’d tasted in the County.

  On the second night, while we were eating, Alice sniffed danger and stood up quickly, her finger to her lips. But her warning came too late.

  A massive shape came out of the trees into the clearing where we were eating. I heard a snort and a clash of metal, and at that moment the crescent moon appeared from behind a cloud, conjuring up a gleaming silver apparition before our startled gaze.

  It was a horseman dressed in chain mail, two great swords attached to his saddle. And what a horse he rode! This was no heavy lumbering beast such as those used to draw barges or pull wagons back in the County; it was a thoroughbred, fine and high stepping, with an arched neck and a form built for speed. Its rider was a warrior from head to toe; he had an aquiline nose and high cheekbones, long hair, and a full mustache that obscured his mouth.

  The rider drew his sword, and for a moment I thought he intended to attack, but he simply indicated that we should leave the clearing. We didn’t argue; we simply turned and headed into the trees.

  At dawn we realized that this warrior was a scout, clearing the way for his followers. A large group of them—a thousand strong at least—were soon approaching across the plain. Their armor gleamed in the sunlight like burnished silver, and the dust erupted behind them like a storm cloud. They looked formidable.

  They set up camp at the edge of the trees just north of the town. Who were they? I wondered.

  “Do you think they’re something to do with the Ordeen, Alice? Maybe more of her supporters?”

  “Not sure, Tom, but your mam never mentioned anything about enemy warriors such as these, did she? Only that she was going to hire mercenaries to keep us safe from the maenads. That could well be them. In which case they’re on our side. Didn’t expect so many though.”

  “It would be nice to think it’s the mercenaries, but we can’t risk approaching them.”

  So we kept our distance, retreating farther into the trees, wondering who they were—friends or foes. As we waited, Alice turned to me, reached into the pocket of her dress, and held up a small earthen jar. It was the blood jar she’d once showed me back in the County.

  “I’ve been thinking about the Fiend a lot recently,” she said. “We could make him keep his distance—from you at least—by using this.”

  There were two methods that witches employed to keep the Fiend at bay. One was to bear him a child. Grimalkin had done just that, and as a consequence he was forced to keep away from her. The other was to use a blood jar. Alice claimed that this one contained a few drops of blood from the dead water witch Morwena, who’d been the Fiend’s daughter. If this was mixed with my blood, and carried by me, it would mean that he could have no contact with me.

  I shook my head firmly. I’d used the dark already with the wish, and that was bad enough. Bit by bit it was happening; the Spook’s fears were coming true. I was being compromised. Then a thought struck me. I remembered what my master had said months ago, after I told him that Alice might be the Fiend’s daughter. He’d suggested that she couldn’t have taken any of Morwena’s blood; she’d probably simply used her own. The blood from any of the Fiend’s offspring would do.

  “It’s your blood in that jar, isn’t it, Alice?”

  For a moment she seemed about to protest. Then her expression changed to one of defiance.

  “Yes, Tom, it is my blood. You feel better now you know the truth? Feel good to show me up for a liar? Well, Morwena’s blood or mine, it makes not the slightest difference. Mix a few drops of your blood with this, and once the jar’s in your possession you won’t have to face anything like that night in the mountains again, will you?”

  I lowered my gaze.

  “There’s something else, too,” she continued. “We’d have to stay together forever then. The blood jar would protect you—and me too if I stayed close to you. But if I wandered too far away from it, the Fiend would be there in a moment to take his revenge, because he’d know what I’d done. It wouldn’t bother me much, Tom, being close to you. In fact I’d quite like it. And we need to take advantage of anything we can. Anything just to give us a chance.”

  “You mean well, Alice, so I’m not going to quarrel with you. But nothing’s changed. I still feel the same way—I can’t risk using the dark again. And do you think it would be good to be bound together like that? I’d always be afraid that something might separate us. I wouldn’t dare let you out of my sight! How could we live like that?”

  I didn’t bother to add that we’d probably be separated as soon as we got back to the County anyway—if indeed we managed to survive this battle. If I continued as the Spook’s apprentice, there was no way my master would ever allow Alice to live with us at Chipenden again.

  Alice nodded sadly and pushed the jar back into her pocket again.

  About an hour after dawn, Alice suddenly sat up and pointed at something in the distance. “Look over there,” she said, turning to me. “I think I can see your mam’s wagon!”

  Straining my eyes, I searched the far boundary of the warriors’ camp. At last I saw what could have been a dark wagon.

  “Are you sure, Alice?” I asked.

  “Difficult to see from here, but I think so,” she replied.

  I had been tormenting myself, wondering how I could possibly rescue Mam from such a host of captors, but now my fears were suddenly dispelled. Alice had been right after all. I continued watching, and after a while a small party left the camp on foot and went toward the rocks. There was someone walking at their head. A woman, heavily veiled and hooded against the sunlight.

  “It’s your mam, Tom! I’m sure of it!” Alice cried.

  Just behind the hooded figure walked a man with a staff. I could tell by his gait that it was the Spook. There were others following at a distance. I recognized Seilenos and two more of the escort that had met us at Igoumenitsa. If it was indeed Mam, she didn’t seem to be a prisoner at all.

  We made our way down through the trees and out into the open. The veiled figure saw us immediately, waved, then beckoned us forward. When we got closer, she pushed her veil aside, turning her back to the sun. Alice was right. It was Mam.

  She smiled—though she seemed a little withdrawn and formal. There was a wildness about her eyes, and in the bright sunlight her face seemed even more youthful than before. The faint laughter lines around her mouth had disappeared altogether.

  “Well done, Alice,” she said. “You did well to get yourselves to safety. For a while it went hard with us, but we fought off the maenads until these warriors came to our aid. They’re mercenaries, bought with more of the money you returned to me, son. They were riding west to meet us and arrived just in time to drive away our enemies. As I said, Tom, the maenads are numerous, and we’ll need these men if we are to keep them at bay and complete our journey.”

  “Is everyone all right?” I asked. “Where’s Bill Arkwright?”

  “Aye, lad,” answered the Spook. “Apart from a few cuts and minor wounds, everyone’s fine. Bill’s discussing tactics with the leader of those mercenaries. They’re working out how best to deploy our forces as we approach the Ord.”

  “Now come with us,” Mam commanded. “There’s no time to waste. We’re going to visit one of the monasteries. There are things we need to know.”

  “Is it that one, Mam?” I said, pointing up at the nearest one, perched on a high pinnacle to our right.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head and pulling the protective veil across her face again. “That one’s called Ayiou Stefanou. Although it’s spectacular and the closest to the town, it’s not the highest or most important. No, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

  We walked for hours, the impressive rounded cliffs and pinnacles of Met
eora always in our sight. At last we approached an imposing monastery built on a high, broad rock.

  “That’s Megalo Meteorou directly ahead,” Mam said. “The grandest of them all. It’s about six hundred and fifteen feet high, almost twice the height of Priestown Cathedral’s steeple.”

  “How was it possible to build on a rock that high?” I asked, gazing up at it in amazement.

  “There are lots of stories, son,” Mam told me, “but that monastery was founded by a man called Athanasios hundreds of years ago. Monks had lived in caves hereabouts for a long time, but this was the very first of the monasteries to be built. One story is that Athanasios flew on the back of an eagle to reach the top.” She pointed up to where two eagles rode the thermals high above.

  “It sounds a bit like the story about Hercules throwing that big rock!” I said, smiling.

  “No doubt it does, Tom. It’s much more likely that he was helped by the locals, who were skilled rock climbers.”

  “So how are we going to get up there?”

  “There are steps, Tom. Lots of them. It’ll be a hard climb, but imagine how difficult they must have been to cut into the rock! Just Mr. Gregory, you, and I will make the climb. Alice must wait behind. The monks know me well—I’ve talked to them many times—but women aren’t generally welcome up there.”

  The escort waited below with the disappointed Alice while I followed Mam and the Spook up the stone steps. There was no rail, and a sheer drop threatened to the side. At last we came to an iron door set in the rock. A monk opened it wide and admitted us to further flights of steep steps. Finally we reached the summit and saw a large dome ahead of us.

  “That’s the katholicon,” Mam said happily.

  I knew the word, which meant a church or main chapel. “Is that where we’re going?”