It was a good breakfast. The boggart had done us proud. The toast was crisp and brown, and our plates were heaped high with bacon, eggs and mushrooms.
The Spook nodded, and I nodded back; then, without further preamble, we tucked in and didn’t say a word until we’d finished every last mouthful. Only then did my master ease his chair back from the table and fix his gaze firmly upon me.
‘I’m sorry, lad,’ he said. ‘I’ve been neglecting my duties and letting you do all the work. What’s worse, I’ve not been training you.’
‘It’s been a very difficult few years,’ I said. ‘We’ve travelled a lot and faced great dangers; we’ve both been lucky to survive. Recently, you’ve needed time to recuperate and gather your strength – I know that. So there’s no need to apologize. You’ve been a good master; but for your help and training I’d be dead by now.’
‘It’s kind of you to say so, lad. But I’m going to try and make up for the past weeks. Do you remember what I said we’d be studying in your fourth year of training?’
‘Yes – it’s something that you called the “unexplained”; you told me to look in the back of your Bestiary.’
‘And did you do that?’
I nodded, not mentioning the fact that my master had failed to follow it up with the expected lessons.
At the end of the Spook’s book there was a short section called ‘Mysterious Deaths in the County’. One account told of a woman called Emily Jane Hudson, who had died under very strange circumstances. There had been puncture marks in her neck, but she hadn’t been drained of blood. Instead, the blood had been forced in between her flesh and her skin, as if to store it there. The incident had remained a mystery. Who or what had done that to her?
‘So you do have an idea what you’ll be learning. It will take us right to the edge of what we know. It’s a higher level of study: rather than me just passing on my acquired knowledge to you, we’ll be carrying out research together. We’ll hopefully be able to expand our knowledge and record what we learn. Some of it will be just speculation, but we will also search for likely causes. We’ll begin today with a journey to a location that’s mentioned in that terrible ritual – the place where you were bidden to perform it. We’re going to journey across the fells to the northeast. It’s time for me to show you the Wardstone.’
‘Is it a big stone or just the name of a hill? I remember once seeing it marked on one of your maps, but that wasn’t clear.’
‘It’s a big hill and a big stone, lad – one of the highest in the County.’
‘And what we see when we get there – will that be part of our study of the unexplained?’ I asked.
‘Aye,’ replied the Spook. ‘It certainly will. And I’ll tell you something else. You’ll be the first apprentice I’ve ever shown the Wardstone. Despite some deceits – or shall we call them “failings of trust”? – you really have become the best apprentice I’ve ever trained.’
WITHIN THE HOUR we had set off from Chipenden, heading north across the fells. I was carrying both bags as well as my staff, and I also had an extra burden – a bundle of firewood tied to my back. There were no trees up there and we planned to cook supper.
I went with mixed feelings. On one hand it was good to be travelling with my master, who suddenly seemed invigorated and enthusiastic. I was also intrigued by the Wardstone. Was it just coincidence that it shared my name? I wondered. I remembered noticing that when I’d first spotted the place on the Spook’s map.
However, one part of me would have preferred to stay close to Chipenden. That was where Alice would go if she managed to defeat the Fiend using magic. I was desperate for news; desperate to see her again. I’d even tried using a mirror to contact her – something that would have infuriated my master. But although I’d called her name repeatedly, she hadn’t responded. Why couldn’t I reach her now? That failure made me even more worried. But I’d had no choice but to leave with the Spook.
It was good walking weather, chillier up on the fell-tops, but the sun was shining and the breeze was light. There were curlews swooping down to glide low over the tufts of grass, and fresh rabbit droppings, suggesting that supper wouldn’t be too difficult to find. Out to the northwest I could see the light blue waters of Morecambe Bay sparkling in the sunlight. We had trekked this way many times together; we would often bypass Caster, with its ancient castle, keeping well to the east. If there was a witchfinder operating in the County, this was where he was usually based. And most of them believed spooks to be fair game. We dabbled with the dark, and that was as good an excuse as any to hang us.
But this time, instead of continuing past Caster, we turned directly east and went deeper into the fells than I’d ever been before. The Spook was still setting a lively pace and seemed to know exactly where he was going. By now the breeze had become a chill wind battering us from the west. Clouds were racing overhead and I could smell rain.
‘You’ve visited the Wardstone before?’ I asked.
‘Aye, lad, I certainly have – twice, to be exact. The first time I came as a young spook, soon after the death of my master. He’d told me a bit about it, and I was curious enough to want to see it for myself. The second time was soon after your mam wrote me that letter. You remember which one I’m talking about?’
‘The one she wrote to you in Greek just after I’d been born?’
‘That’s the one, lad. It stuck in my memory: I can still recite it word for word! I’ve just given birth to a baby boy, she wrote. And he’s the seventh son of a seventh son. His name is Thomas J. Ward and he’s my gift to the County. When he’s old enough we’ll send you word. Train him well. He’ll be the best apprentice you’ve ever had and he’ll also be your last.’
The final sentence made me sad, but I had to expect that unless something happened to me, I would probably be my master’s last apprentice. Once again I had a sense of things coming to an end, but I shook it off and tried to think positively. My master and I probably had years left to work together.
‘I remember you telling me about it just after you’d taken me to the haunted house in Horshaw to see if I was brave enough to become your apprentice. You seemed angry about the letter.’