I nodded. Morgan was a powerful necromancer, and he’d trapped Dad’s soul in limbo for a while. He’d made him think he was burning in Hell, and tricked him into feeling the actual pain of the flames.
“Well, the Fiend could do the same to you, Tom. He could make you pay for fighting against him. Not only that; you’ll have given up your life. He’ll not have taken it. That means the hobbles will have been nullified, and chance will prevail. He’ll no longer face the threat that you might destroy him or send him back through the portal. With you out of the way, he’ll be free to grow in power as the dark itself waxes until he finally rules the world. And you’ll be in such terrible pain, tormented beyond anything your soul could bear, that you might actually become his ally just to be released from it. We may have defeated the Ordeen, but at a terrible price. The Fiend might have won, Tom. He might have beaten you. But there’s something he didn’t allow for. . . .”
Alice pointed to the blood jar that I was still holding in my left hand. “You really need this now. You have to keep it with you always. This is what drove him away.”
“But can it possibly work? I thought it needed my blood mixed with yours?” I asked.
“I took it without asking you, Tom. Sorry, but it had to be done. When those rocks came down on you, you were unconscious for a long time, so I took a little of your blood. Just three drops—that’s all I needed. Your blood and my blood are together in this jar. Keep it on your person, and he can’t come anywhere near you!
“So you’ve one chance! Just one! Forget your principles. None of ’em matter now, do they? You’ve used the dark wish that Grimalkin gave you, and you’ve sold your soul. It’s the only thing left to do, Tom. Keep the blood jar. If you use it, we’ve defeated the Ordeen and the Fiend’s gained nothing!”
I nodded. She was right. That’s all I had left now. A final chance, the means to keep the Fiend away from me. But the Spook’s worst fears were coming true. Bit by bit I was being compromised and pulled toward the dark.
“But what about when I die, Alice? Even if it’s five or fifty years from now, he’ll still be waiting to take my soul. He’ll get it in the end.”
“Can’t get your soul if you destroy him first!”
“But how, Alice? How can I do that?”
“Got to be a way. Your mam gave you life so you could do that. Didn’t she ever say how it could be done?”
I shook my head. I wondered if Mam had had any idea at all. If so, she’d never mentioned it. Now she was dead, and it was too late.
“We’ll find out how to do it, Tom. Slay him or bind him, one of the two, and then you’ll be safe!”
I grasped the blood jar very tightly. It was the only thing keeping the Fiend at bay.
At dawn on the following day, we began our journey west toward the port of Igoumenitsa, where we hoped the Celeste still would be waiting. The witches already had left for the coast, and it was now only the Spook, Alice, and me.
Hardly had the journey begun when something happened that lifted my spirits a little. The sound of barking alerted us—and Claw and her pups bounded toward us. And it was me they came to first, my hands that they licked.
“Always knew that dog would be yours one day,” Alice said with a smile. “Didn’t think you’d have three, though!”
The Spook was less than enthusiastic. “They can travel with us, lad, and we’ll get them home to the County, but after that I’m not too sure. They’re hunting dogs, and Bill put them to good use. There’s no place at Chipenden for them. Those dogs and the boggart certainly wouldn’t mix. They’d not survive even one night in the garden. We’d best try and find a good home for them.”
I couldn’t argue with that. But it was good to have them back for now, and it made my own journey toward the coast a little easier.
We were relieved to find the Celeste still waiting at anchor. The captain was happy to see us and, in the absence of Mam, immediately dealt with me as if I was the one who’d chartered the vessel. These were the instructions Mam had left, he explained.
We waited for several days, just in case there were any more survivors from the party that had sailed to Greece so long ago. A few stragglers turned up, and by the end of that time fifteen witches, including Grimalkin and the Mouldheel sisters, were sheltering in the hold. But there was no Bill Arkwright. It was clear now that he’d sacrificed his life to enable us to escape.
When we sailed for home, I didn’t spend the nights on deck in a hammock as before, but in the comfort of a large bed. It was the Spook’s idea that I take Mam’s cabin.
“Why not, lad?” he said. “It’s what she’d have wanted.”
So it was that my voyage home was one of relative luxury, and there, at night, listening to the creaking of the timbers and feeling the roll of the ship and the occasional snuffle from the dogs guarding my door, I had plenty of time to think. I went over and over again in my mind all that had happened, and always I returned to the same grim thought: Was Mam trapped in the dark, her soul carried there as the ruin of the Ord passed through the portal? Had that been Bill Arkwright’s fate, too?
I kept hoping that I would dream about Mam; each night that was my aim. Suddenly dreaming was more important than waking. It didn’t happen for almost two weeks, but finally she appeared to me. And it was a lucid dream, too—I was fully aware that I was dreaming.
We were back in the kitchen at the farm, and she was in her rocking chair, facing me across the hearth. I was sitting on a stool, and I felt happy and contented. It was the Mam of old, not the one who had returned from Greece to make Jack fear she was a changeling; certainly not the one I’d talked to within the Ord, who had changed rapidly into that fearsome, beautiful angel.
She started to speak to me, her voice full of warmth, love, and understanding.
“I always knew that you would be compromised by the dark, son. I knew that you would bargain with the Fiend because it was in you to do so from the very beginning. And you did it not just to help those you love, but for the whole of the County—for the whole world. Don’t blame yourself. It’s just part of the burden of being who you are.
“Above all, remember this,” she continued. “The Fiend has damaged you, but you have also damaged him and hurt the dark badly. Believe, son. Have faith in who you are. Believe that you will recover, and it will truly happen. And don’t judge yourself too harshly. Some things are meant to be, and you had to fall so that later you may rise and become what you are truly meant to be.”
I wanted to walk across and embrace her, but no sooner had I come to my feet than the dream faded and I opened my eyes. I was back in the cabin.
Was it a dream or something more? It was three days later, as we were sailing through the Strait of Gibraltar, that I had my second encounter with Mam. The wind had dropped away to almost nothing, and we were virtually becalmed. That night I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
It happened just as I was waking up. I heard something directly in front of me, very close to the bed. A strange noise. Something sharp in the air. A sort of crackling, tearing sound. And for a moment I was scared. Terrified.
It wasn’t the feeling of cold I often experienced when something from the dark approached. This was powerful and shocking. It was as if, close to my side, there was a being that had no right to be there. As if something suddenly had torn aside all the rules of the waking world. But just as some cozy dreams quickly can turn into nightmares, this was the reverse. My terror was gone in an instant as something warm touched me.
It didn’t touch my skin. It wasn’t a warm hand. It was a sensation that passed right through me, upward into my bones, flesh, and nerves. It was warmth and love. Pure love. That’s the only way I can describe it. There were no words. No message. But I no longer had any doubt.
It was Mam. She was safe, and she’d come to say good-bye. I felt sure of it, and with that certainty, my pain lessened.
CHAPTER XXIV
It Can’t Be True!
&
nbsp; ONCE again we endured a storm in the Bay of Biscay that threatened the ship, but despite a broken mast and tattered sails, we came through it and sailed on toward the cliffs of our homeland, the air growing colder by the hour.
We reached Sunderland Point and set off for Jack’s farm. It was my duty to break the news of Mam’s death to the family.
Grimalkin, Mab, and the other surviving witches hurried off to Pendle. With the dogs at our heels, we began the trek to the farm.
We walked on in silence, each of us deep in our own thoughts. As we approached the farm, I suddenly realized that Alice would be expected to keep away for fear of offending Jack and Ellie. Yet she needed to be by my side to gain the protection of the blood jar. If we were separated, the Fiend might attack her in revenge for what she’d done.
“Better if Alice comes with us to the farm,” I suggested, thinking quickly. “Jack’s bound to take things badly, so Alice could give him some herbs to help him sleep.”
The Spook looked at me doubtfully, probably realizing that Jack wouldn’t accept Alice’s help anyway, but I turned on my heel and hurried to the farm with Alice at my side, leaving him with poor Bill Arkwright’s three dogs.
Within minutes, the farm dogs began to bark and Jack came running across the south pasture. He halted about three feet away. He wouldn’t necessarily have expected Mam to leave her homeland again and return to the County, so her absence wouldn’t have concerned him, but he must have feared the worst from the sad expression on my face.
“What is it? What happened?” he demanded. “Did you win?”
“Yes, Jack, we won,” I told him. “We won, but at a terrible price. Mam’s dead, Jack. There’s no easy way to say it. She’s dead.”
Jack’s eyes widened, not with grief but disbelief. “That’s not right, Tom! It can’t be true!”
“I know it’s hard to take, but it’s the truth, Jack. Mam died as she destroyed her enemy. She sacrificed herself and made the world a better place—not just her homeland.”
“No! No!” Jack cried as his face began to crumple. I tried to put my arms around him to give him some comfort, but he pushed me away and kept saying, “No! No!” over and over again.
James took the news more calmly. “I sensed that was going to happen,” he told me quietly. “I’ve been expecting it.”
When he gave me a hug, I felt his body trembling, but he was trying to be brave.
Later Jack took to his bed while the rest of us sat around the kitchen table in silence—but for Ellie, who was weeping softly. To be honest, I couldn’t wait to get away from the farm. Things felt really bad, and it had reopened the wound of my own grief at losing Mam.
Ellie had made us some chicken soup, and I forced myself to dunk rolls of bread into it to build my strength for the journey. We stayed only a couple of hours, but just before we left, I went up to take my leave of Jack. I knocked lightly on the bedroom door. There was no reply, and after trying twice more, I gradually eased it open. Jack was sitting up, his back against the headboard, his face a mask of grief.
“I’ve come to say good-bye, Jack,” I told him. “I’ll be back to see you in a month or so. James is here to help with the farm, so things should be all right.”
“All right?” he asked bitterly. “How can things ever be all right again?”
“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m upset as well. The difference is that I’ve had weeks to get used to it. It still hurts, but the pain’s faded a little. It’ll be the same for you, too. Just give it time.”
“Time? There’ll never be enough time. . . .”
I just hung my head. I couldn’t think of anything I could say that would make him feel better.
“Bye, Jack,” I said. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
Jack just shook his head, but he hadn’t finished speaking yet. As I turned to leave, he let out a great choking sob and then spoke slowly, his voice full of hurt and bitterness.
“Things have never been the same since you started working as a spook’s apprentice,” he said. “And it started to go really wrong the first time you brought that girl, Alice, to the farm. It sickens me to see her here again today. We were happy before. Really happy. You’ve brought us nothing but misery!”
I went out and closed the door behind me. Jack seemed to be somehow blaming me for everything. It wasn’t the first time, but there was nothing worth saying in my defense. Why waste words when he wouldn’t listen anyway? Of course, everything had just been part of Mam’s scheme from the beginning, but Jack was never going to understand that. I just had to hope that he would eventually see reason. It wasn’t going to be easy, and it would take a long time.
Ellie gave us some bread and cheese for the road, and we took our leave of her and James. She didn’t hug me. She seemed a little cold and aloof, but she did manage to give Alice a sad smile.
The Spook was waiting with the dogs in the wood on Hangman’s Hill. He had cut me a new staff while we were away.
“Here, lad, this’ll have to do for now,” he said, holding it out toward me. “We’ll have to wait till we get back to Chipenden to get you one with a silver alloy blade, but at least it’s rowan wood, and I’ve sharpened it to a point.”
The staff had a good balance to it, and I thanked him. Then we headed north again. After about an hour I left the Spook’s side and fell back so that I could talk to Alice.
“Jack seems to blame me for everything,” I told her. “But I can’t deny one thing. The moment I became the Spook’s apprentice marked the beginning of the end of my family.”
Alice squeezed my hand. “Your mam had a plan, and she carried it through, Tom. You should be proud of her. Jack will understand in time. Besides, you’re still with the Spook, still his apprentice. Soon we’ll be back in Chipenden, living in his house, and I’ll be copying his books again. It’s not a bad life, Tom, and we still got each other. Ain’t that true?”
“It is true, Alice,” I said sadly. “We’ve still got each other.”
Alice squeezed my hand again, and we walked on toward Chipenden with lighter hearts.
ONCE again, I’ve written most of this from memory, just using my notebook when necessary. We’re back at Chipenden and into our old routine. I’m continuing to learn my trade while Alice is busy copying books from the Spook’s library. The war is going badly, with enemy soldiers pressing north toward the County, looting and burning everything in their path. It’s making the Spook very nervous. He’s worried about the safety of his books.
Arkwright’s dogs, Claw, Blood, and Bone, are being looked after temporarily by a retired shepherd who lives near the Long Ridge. We still need to sort out a permanent home for them, but I visit them occasionally and they’re really glad to see me.
I keep the blood jar in my pocket, my defense against a visit from the Fiend. It’s a secret I share only with Alice, who needs it as much as I do and never ventures far from my side. If the Spook knew, he’d dash it against a rock and it would be the end of us. But I know there’ll be a reckoning one day. On the day that I die, the Fiend will be waiting for me. Waiting to claim my soul. That’s the price I paid for the victory at Meteora. I have only one hope, and that is to destroy him first. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but Mam had faith in me, so I try to believe that it’s possible. Somehow I must find a way.
THOMAS J. WARD
Credits
COVER ART © 2009 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: Clash of the Demons
Copyright © 2009 by Joseph Delaney
First published in 2009 in Great Britain by T
he Bodley Head, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, under the title The Spook’s Sacrifice.
First published in 2009 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 Patents Act, 1988.
Illustrations copyright © 2009 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 ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-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.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Delaney, Joseph.
[Spook’s sacrifice]
Clash of the demons / by Joseph Delaney.
p. cm. — (The last apprentice; bk. 6)
“Greenwillow Books.”
Originally published under title: The Spook’s sacrifice.
Summary: Tom is reunited with his mother and must return to Greece to face a new and terrible threat from the dark forces, and a momentous decision must be made, causing a serious rift between Tom and the Spook that threatens to separate them forever.
ISBN 978-0-06-134462-6 (trade bdg.) — ISBN 978-0-06-134463-3 (lib. bdg.)
[1. Apprentices—Fiction. 2. Supernatural—Fiction. 3. Greece—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.D373183Cl 2009 [Fic]—dc22 2009006188
09 10 11 12 13 FIRST EDITION LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
EPub Edition © NOVEMBER 2011 ISBN 9780062120922
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