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

Wardstone.”
    â€œIs 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.”
    â€œIt’s a big hill and a big stone, lad. One of the highest in the County.”
    â€œAnd what we see when we get there? Will that be part of our study of the unexplained?” I asked.
    â€œAye,” 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.”

CHAPTER V
    T HE W ARDSTONE

    W ITHIN 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 traveling 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 witch finder 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.
    â€œYou’ve visited the Wardstone before?” I asked.
    â€œAye, 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?”
    â€œThe one she wrote to you in Greek just after I’d been born?”
    â€œThat’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