The Last Apprentice: Complete Collection

by Joseph Delaney

  Someone was at the withy trees crossroads, ringing the bell to summon the spook. Usually I went to see what the problem was. It could be anything, from a rogue boggart to a graveside lingerer. Sometimes people were just scared and under no real threat; at other times a whole family was in danger, and my master would set off to sort things out immediately.

  “Sounds like someone’s in trouble,” the Spook said. “You’d best go and see what’s what, lad.”

  “Then I’ll keep him company,” said Judd. “It could be a ruse to lure one of us from the garden.”

  “Aye, you’re right. It’ll be safer with two of you,” my master agreed.

  Soon we’d crossed the garden and were heading for the crossroads. “It’s just like old times!” Judd joked. “When I came down here as a young apprentice, I was usually shaking with nerves. I knew it meant setting off on spook’s business within the hour.”

  “Me too,” I said. We’d crossed the meadow and had entered the trees again. Now we were nearly at the crossroads, and heavy rain clouds were blustering in from the west. It seemed to be growing darker with every step we took. Suddenly the bell rang out again.

  “At least they’re still there,” said Judd. “Sometimes they used to lose their nerve and head off back the way they came.”

  “Some of them are more scared of the Spook than a boggart!” I agreed.

  We both laughed, then stifled our laughter simultaneously. Because, despite the gloom, we could now see who was ringing the bell.

  It was a pretty young woman, and I remembered her well—the one who had lured us to Todmorden with the promise of books for the Spook’s new library.

  It was Mistress Cosmina Fresque. Or, to be precise, the demon clothed in her flesh.

  “I bring you a message—the chance of life!” she cried, letting go of the rope. The bell continued to dance in the wind, pealing several more times before falling silent.

  We approached her warily, holding our staffs diagonally across our bodies. There were two clicks as we released the retractable blades.

  “Just give us what we want! Give us the head of our master, the Fiend!” the demon told us. “Do that and we will return to our own land, and your homes will be safe and your people may live out their little lives in peace.”

  “And what if we don’t give it to you?” Judd said. We were still walking toward the figure—now she was no more than ten paces away. She was standing beneath the bell rope, her back to the tree. I glanced sideways at Judd and saw the tears running down his cheeks. Demon she might be, but the face and body were that of a girl—the girl he had loved.

  “Then this will become a land of the undead. We will rule here and take blood wherever we choose.”

  “This is our answer!” cried Judd, and he drove the blade of his staff toward the demon. She stepped sideways to evade the thrust, but he then went straight into the classic maneuver taught by the Spook. He flicked the staff from his left hand to his right and drove it straight through the heart of the demon, pinning her to the tree trunk.

  She let out a tremendous shriek, and blood spurted from her mouth and dripped onto her shoes. Then her eyes rolled up into their sockets, and she gave a great shudder and slumped backward. She would have fallen to the ground, but the blade held her fast against the tree. The silver alloy must have penetrated her heart: almost immediately a glowing orange orb rose up from the body, hovered for a moment, gained elevation, then shot off eastward.

  We both stood staring at the body of Cosmina. Finally Judd turned to me, tears still streaming from his eyes. “Do me a favor, Tom,” he said. “Go back to the house and bring me a shovel. I need to lay her remains to rest.”

  I ran back, briefly told the Spook what had happened, then collected the blackened shovel from under the new lean-to at the side of the house. When I reached the crossroads again, Judd was kneeling down, holding the corpse’s hand.

  “I’ll dig it if you like,” I offered.

  Judd came slowly to his feet and shook his head. “No, Tom, that’s my job. Thanks for bringing the shovel. You go back to the house. I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished.”

  But I didn’t return immediately. There was a chance that the demon hadn’t come back to the crossroads alone, so I headed into the trees and watched Judd from a distance. He dug the grave beneath the tree and lowered Cosmina’s body into it. Suddenly he gave a terrible cry of anguish and struck hard down into the grave with his staff.

  He had cut off the head of the corpse. It was one way to ensure that no demon or other entity could possess her again. I could hear him sobbing as he filled in the grave and collected some stones to lay on the soil, to ensure that no dog or wild animal could dig up the body. Only then, when he knelt with bowed head and stared down at what he’d done, did I set off back to the house.

  His task had been a painful one. How would I fare if I had to sacrifice Alice? It didn’t bear thinking about. Time was running out. I had to find another way to destroy the Fiend that did not involve her death. But Mam was powerful and had struggled to find the method she’d presented to me. How could I hope to do better?

  CHAPTER XXII

  LET THEM COME TO US!

  THE following day, just after noon, we prepared to carry out the Spook’s wishes. Leaving him behind with the dogs and the boggart, Grimalkin, Alice, Judd, and I set off for Todmorden once more.

  As we left the garden, Alice came up alongside me. She was carrying a book. “Here,” she said. “This is for Old Gregory. I wrote it myself.”

  With a smile, I took it and read the title: The Secrets of the Pendle Covens.

  “It’s about some of the darkest secrets that nobody but a witch knows—not even a spook. It should be really useful. Your master won’t accept it from me, but if you pass it on he might put it in his new library.”

  “Thanks, Alice. I’ll give it to him when we get back,” I said, putting it in my bag. “I’ll also give him my notebooks. Everything helps. But I’ve a question for you. What did you talk about when you went off with Grimalkin yesterday?”

  “It was women’s talk, Tom. Nothing to concern you.”

  I stared at her, annoyed, but hurt too.

  “Ain’t happy, are you? Don’t like me keeping secrets from you. But do you tell me everything?”

  I opened my mouth in shock. Had she somehow found out about the sacrifice that was required?

  But before I could reply, Alice strode on, leaving me to walk with Grimalkin. Our conversation had saddened me, but I thought it best to ask no further questions.

  The sky was gray and a light drizzle was drifting in from the west, but the air was mild. It was what passed for summer in the County.

  I glanced at Judd, who was clearly still upset. After a while he came alongside me and clapped me on the back. “Cosmina’s body has been laid to rest now, something I’ve been hoping to do for a long time. I feel as if I’ve turned the corner at last.”

  “What will you do afterward? Will you go back to Romania?” I asked him.

  “No, Tom. I’ve had my fill of traveling for a while. Maybe I should take over poor Bill Arkwright’s patch, north of Caster.”

  “That’s a great idea!” I exclaimed. “You’ll certainly have plenty on your plate with all those water witches. As far as I know, no spook has been working in the region for well over a year. The Spook told me that Bill left the mill to be used by future spooks. So you’d have a roof over your head.”

  While we talked, Alice and Grimalkin were deep in conversation ahead of us. Clearly they were hatching some sort of plan, and I was shut out of it. Then, as we continued southeast, skirting Accrington, they dropped back to walk alongside us.

  “Grimalkin needs to speak to you alone, Tom,” Alice told me.

  I glanced at the witch assassin, who nodded and pointed to a copse on our left. She began to walk toward it, and I followed.

  “We’ll wait here for you!” Alice called.

  I wondered why Grimalkin cou
ldn’t speak in front of Alice and Judd. No doubt he was the problem. Maybe she didn’t trust him after his betrayal of the Spook . . . I’d find out soon enough.

  The witch assassin came to a stop among the trees and turned to face me. She eased the leather sack off her shoulder and placed it on the ground between us. “The Fiend has asked to speak to you,” she said, “but you must choose whether to allow this or not. No doubt he wishes to intimidate you or make threats. But I believe that we can learn from whatever he says.”

  “Do you speak to him?” I asked.

  Grimalkin nodded. “From time to time we have exchanged a few words, but recently no amount of goading has made him speak. However, he said he was willing to talk to you.”

  “Then let’s hear what he has to say!”

  We sat down on the grass, and Grimalkin undid the leather sack and pulled out the Fiend’s head by its horns, placing it on the ground so that it was facing me. I was shocked by its appearance. It looked smaller than when it had first been cut from his body, and the face was crusted with dried blood. One eye was gone—there was just a red-rimmed, pus-filled socket—and the lids of the other eye were stitched together. The mouth seemed to be stuffed with nettles and twigs.

  “What happened to the eye?” I asked.

  “I took it in revenge for the deaths of my comrades,” Grimalkin replied. “He may keep the other one for a little while.”

  She reached forward and pulled the nettles and twigs out of the mouth. Immediately the head, which had previously seemed still and dead, became animated. The stitched eyelid twitched, and the jaw and lips began to move, showing the stumps of yellow teeth.

  “It could have been so different, Thomas Ward,” the Fiend said, his voice hardly more than a croak. “We could have worked together, but you rejected me and reduced me to this. Now you will pay a terrible price.”

  “You are my enemy,” I told him. “I was born so that I might put an end to you.”

  “Of course,” said the Fiend, his voice becoming stronger. “That is your destiny—or so you have been told. But believe me, a very different future awaits you. You think I am helpless? Well, you are wrong. Do you think that taking one eye and stitching the other makes me blind? My spirit can see all it wishes. I see exactly where you are most vulnerable. I see those you love and the means by which they can be hurt. Do you think that sealing my mouth renders me dumb? I speak to my servants all the time, and they are as numerous as the stars. They are eager to act for me. Defeat one, and another will rise up to do battle with you. You will meet your match eventually—and far sooner than you think!”

  “This is just empty talk,” hissed Grimalkin, seizing the head by the horns.

  “We will see!” cried the Fiend. “You are a seventh son and have six brothers. This day, one of them will die at the hands of my servants. And he will be only the first to suffer thus. Soon you will be the last of your mother’s sons!”

  As I got to my feet, my head spinning at the thought of what might happen to my brothers, Grimalkin stopped the mouth again and returned the head to the leather sack.

  “Take no notice,” she said to me. “I was wrong to subject you to that. And we have learned nothing new. He could have sent his servants against your family at any time. He is making threats to unsettle you and divert your focus from what needs to be done.”

  I nodded. On returning from Ireland two weeks earlier, I had sent a letter to the farm inquiring about the health of my eldest brother, Jack, his wife, Ellie, and their child; I’d also asked about my brother James, who had been staying with them to help out with the farm work and build up his business as a blacksmith. The reply had been reassuring. All was well, and apart from the loss of a few animals, the war had left them unscathed.

  We were a long way from the farm now, though. As for my other brothers, they were scattered across the County. I could do nothing to help them—I just had to put my concerns aside.

  We returned to join Alice and Judd. I told them what the Fiend had said and the threat he had made. Judd nodded sympathetically, and Alice squeezed my hand. For now, there was nothing that any of us could do.

  “Where did you plan to make your base?” Grimalkin asked Judd.

  “We could stay to the west of Todmorden, well clear of the village,” Judd said. “That way we can start to work the area without drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

  “But that’s exactly what we do want to do—we want to attract their notice!” the witch assassin exclaimed, her eyes flashing. “We should stay at the inn. Let them come to us. Once we’ve depleted their numbers, we’ll move on to the attack. It’ll be like clearing out a nest of rats!”

  “Isn’t that risky?” Judd asked. “By keeping our distance, we could do some good before they even notice we’re there.”

  “You might help a few people, yes,” Grimalkin replied. “But it would reach a crisis soon enough anyway. It would be a matter of hours before you were detected. This way we decide the killing ground. They will abandon the quest for other victims and come for this!” She held up the leather sack. “They will come for it and die. Our struggle against these Romanian entities is just one in a series of battles we have waged against the servants of the Fiend. I want to put an end to it quickly so that we can get down to the real business—his final destruction. So what about you, Tom Ward? Are you in agreement?”

  I looked at Judd and shrugged. “Sorry, but I have to agree with Grimalkin,” I told him.

  “Me too,” said Alice.

  Judd smiled. “It seems that I must bow to the will of the majority. Let the battle commence!”

  We continued on our way for another couple of hours. By now the clouds had cleared, and it promised to be a fine night. As the sun sank toward the horizon, we set up camp for the night beside the track. Alice caught three rabbits, and soon they were turning on spits over the fire, the aroma making my mouth water.

  Suddenly, in the distance, I heard the steady beating of a drum. It was getting closer, and soon we could hear a pennywhistle too. It was music to march to. The soldiers from Burnley were on their way.

  Realizing that they were coming along the track and would pass quite close by, Alice and Grimalkin retreated into the trees. There had been clashes in the past between the Pendle witches and the military, and they would certainly recognize Grimalkin again.

  “I’ve never understood why they wear jackets that color!” Judd exclaimed. “I was taught to wear a gown like this to camouflage me in the forest. They seem to be doing their best to be seen!”

  I had to agree. The soldiers’ jackets of vivid County red made them clearly visible through the trees. We strolled over to the path.

  There were about thirty men, all but one on foot. An officer on horseback led the column, and as they drew nearer I realized that he looked familiar. He had a ruddy complexion and was stoutly built. Then the small, neat black mustache confirmed it—this was Captain Horrocks, the officer who had led the group of soldiers laying siege to Malkin Tower. I had been imprisoned, falsely accused of murdering Father Stocks. Would the captain remember me? I wondered. The war had intervened, and after my escape I would surely have been forgotten. I was older and taller now, in any case.

  As he came abreast of us, the captain raised his arm to bring his column of men to a halt. The pennywhistle and drum fell silent. All that could be heard was the breathing of the horse. I looked down, avoiding his eyes.

  “I know you . . . ,” he said quietly.

  My heart missed a beat. Should I run for it? The witch Wurmalde had killed the priest, but she was dead now and I had no evidence to prove my innocence. I could still hang for a murder I hadn’t committed.

  “Aye, I’m Judd Brinscall. I brought your commanding officer warning of what’s afoot in Todmorden.”

  When Judd spoke, I realized my mistake and breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What you’ve done is brought us out here on a wild goose chase,” the captain said, his voice caustic. �
��You spooks take money from gullible people for fighting the supposed dark, but you don’t fool me. Witches are nothing more than beggars and scoundrels. And as for your latest tale”—he laughed contemptuously—“it is quite beyond belief. I’m following orders and have to investigate, but if I find the slightest evidence that you’ve brought us here under false pretenses, then I’ll take you back to Burnley in chains! Do I make myself clear?”

  “People have been murdered, Captain,” Judd said quietly, “and you’ll find the killers mostly ensconced on the other side of the river, as I explained. But if you’ll take my advice, make camp for the night and cross at dawn. Our enemies are at their strongest in darkness.”

  “So you’d have us believe. I don’t deny that there have been deaths, and if we find the perpetrators, justice will be swift. But you don’t scare me with your foolish tales. I’ve just fought a war and seen lots of deaths—scenes of carnage that I’ll carry with me to my dying day. After that, what we’ll encounter in Todmorden is nothing! Do I make myself clear?”

  Judd didn’t reply, and with a scornful shake of his head Captain Horrocks led his men onward. Some of the foot soldiers were smiling, but others looked scared, especially the poor little drummer boy marching at the rear. After a few moments the drum and pennywhistle started up again. We watched the column disappear into the trees and went back to our supper.

  We were up soon after dawn and did without breakfast, pressing on toward Todmorden.

  As we crossed the western moor above the town, people began to pass us, heading in the opposite direction—mostly individuals, but occasionally whole families carrying their possessions tied up in bundles. They were refugees fleeing the County side of the town. None of them looked very happy to see us. Some might have been from Todmorden itself and were perhaps aware of our part in triggering the crisis; others simply saw the spook’s garb and reacted as most folk did.

  Everyone we tried to stop brushed past us angrily.