One night, when we were less than a day’s walk from Staumin, we stayed in a forest clearing. We’d just cooked two rabbits in the embers of a fire until the meat almost melted in our mouths. After the meal Alice did something really strange. After turning to face me, she reached across and held my hand.
We sat there like that for a long time. She was staring into the embers of the fire and I was looking up at the stars. I didn’t want to break away but I was all mixed up. My left hand was holding her left hand and I felt guilty. I felt as if I were holding hands with the dark, and I knew the Spook wouldn’t like it.
There was no way I could get away from the truth. Alice was going to be a witch one day. It was then that I realized Mam was right. It was nothing to do with prophecy. You could see it in Alice ’s eyes. She’d always be somewhere in between, neither wholly good nor wholly bad. But wasn’t that true of all of us? Not one of us was perfect.
So I didn’t pull my hand away. I just sat there, one part of me enjoying holding her hand, which was sort of comforting after all that had happened, while the other part sweated with guilt.
It was Alice who broke away. She took her hand out of mine and then touched my arm where her nails had cut me on the night we destroyed Mother Malkin. You could see the scars clearly in the glow from the embers.
‘Put my brand on you there,’ she said with a smile. ‘That won’t ever fade away.’
I thought that was a strange thing to say and I wasn’t sure what she meant. Back home we put our brand on cattle. We did it to show that they belonged to us and to stop strays getting mixed up with animals from neighbouring farms. But how could I belong to Alice?
The following day we came down onto a great flat plain. Some of it was moss land and the worst bits were soggy marsh, but eventually we found our way through to Staumin. I never got to see the aunt because she wouldn’t come out to talk to me. Still, she agreed to take Alice in so I couldn’t complain.
There was a big, wide river nearby, and before I left for Chipenden, we walked down its bank as far as the sea. I wasn’t really taken with it. It was a grey, windy day and the water was the same colour as the sky and the waves were big and rough.
‘You’ll be all right here,’ I said, trying to be cheerful. ‘It’ll be nice when the sun shines.’
‘Just have to make the best of it,’ Alice said. ‘Can’t be worse than Pendle.’
I suddenly felt sorry for her again. I felt lonely at times, but at least I had the Spook to talk to; Alice didn’t even know her aunt properly and the rough sea made everything seem bleak and cold.
‘Look, Alice, I don’t expect we’ll see each other again, but if you ever need help, try to get word to me,’ I offered.
I suppose I said that because Alice was the nearest thing to a friend I had. And as a promise, it wasn’t quite as daft as the first one I’d made her. I didn’t commit myself to actually doing anything. Next time she asked for anything, I’d be talking to the Spook first.
To my surprise, Alice smiled and she had a strange look in her eyes. It reminded me of what Dad had once said about women sometimes knowing things that men don’t – and when you suspect that, you should never ask what they’re thinking.
‘Oh, we’ll meet again,’ Alice said. ‘Ain’t no doubt about that.’
‘I’ll have to be off now,’ I said, turning to leave.
‘I’ll miss you, Tom,’ Alice said. ‘Won’t be the same without you.’
‘I’ll miss you too, Alice,’ I said, giving her a smile.
As the words came out, I thought that I’d said them out of politeness. But I hadn’t been on the road more than ten minutes before I knew I was wrong.
I’d meant every word and I was feeling lonely already.
I’ve written most of this from memory, but some of it from my notebook and my diary. I’m back at Chipenden now and the Spook is pleased with me. He thinks I’m making really good progress.
Bony Lizzie’s in the pit where the Spook used to keep Mother Malkin. The bars have been straightened out and she certainly won’t be getting any midnight cakes from me. As for Tusk, he’s buried in the hole he dug for my grave.
Poor Billy Bradley’s back in his grave outside the churchyard at Lay ton, but at least he’s got his thumbs now. None of it’s pleasant but it’s something that just goes with the job. You have to like it or lump it, as my dad says.
There’s something else I should tell you. The Spook agrees with what Mam said. He thinks that the winters are getting longer and that the dark is growing in power. He’s sure that the job’s getting harder and harder.
So keeping that in mind, I’ll just carry on studying and learning – as my mam once told me, you never know just what you can do until you try. So I’m going to try. I’m going to try just as hard as I possibly can because I want her to be really proud of me.
Now I’m just an apprentice, but one day I’ll be the Spook.
Thomas J. Ward
About Joseph Delaney
Joseph Henry Delaney is an author of science fiction and fantasy books. His writing career began with the release of the erotic sci-fi thriller Mercer's Whore, written under the pen-name of J.K. Haderack. This was followed up by, under his real name, the first in The Wardstone Chronicles, The Spook's Apprentice. The sequel, entitled The Spook's Curse was released in mid-2005, and the third book, The Spook's Secret, was released in the summer of 2006. In America they call this series The Last Apprentice, beginning with "Revenge of the Witch."
