Fury of the Seventh Son (Book 13) Read Online Free PDF Page A

used for training. There was a dead tree, which was useful for practicing with our staffs, and a post over which I would cast my silver chain. I remembered the first time I’d managed to cast it successfully one hundred times. My master had warned me against complacency, pointing out that a witch wouldn’t oblige me by standing still; after that, I’d had to cast on the run and from a variety of angles.
    Now I was competent with both chain and staff, but still practiced here three times a week in order to maintain those skills. The Spook had done the same until a few months ago.
    I was surprised to find him using his staff against the trunk of the dead tree. He was driving the blade into the wood again and again, almost in a fury. The sweat was pouring down his forehead, and he was breathing hard.
    In fact, so great was his concentration that I stood watching him for a couple of minutes before he stepped back and looked round, as if becoming aware of my presence for the first time.
    â€œWell, lad, that’s just about enough for one day—for me, that is. Now it’s your turn to sweat a bit. I’ll get back to the house. I’ll see you at breakfast. We need to talk again.”
    With that, still panting after his exertions, he strode away through the trees. I did my routine training, and after about an hour followed him back, wondering what he wanted to say to me now.
    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.
    â€œI’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.”
    â€œIt’s been a very difficult few years,” I said. “We’ve traveled 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.”
    â€œIt’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?”
    â€œYes . . . it’s something that you called the ‘unexplained’; you told me to look in the back of your Bestiary.”
    â€œAnd 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?
    â€œSo 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