The Seventh Apprentice Read Online Free PDF Page B

passed right through? Before long I emerged into an open grassy space, surrounded by the building on all sides. I was now standing in what my father called an atrium. My eyes flickered over the area quickly, noting several more statues—and a huge oblong block of white marble, about six feet square and six feet high . . . the same dimensions as the pits the Spook had dug in his garden to contain boggarts.
    Two people were standing in front of this block of marble. One was a very pretty girl of about fourteen; the other was Peter Snout.
    To my surprise, I saw that Peter was no longer wearing his piece of sacking and dirty bloodstained clothes. As I approached, I realized that his face, hands, and arms were pink, as if they had been scrubbed clean, and he was dressed in clean trousers and a spotless white shirt. The girl was talking to him, and he gazed back at her with a silly grin on his face, as if she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.
    As I joined them, the girl transferred her gaze from Peter to me. “Welcome, William.” She gave me a dazzling smile. “It is so nice to meet you at last.”
    I’d never seen a prettier girl. She had long, curly golden hair and wore a white silk dress that came down to her ankles, cut away at the shoulders to reveal smooth brown arms adorned with golden bracelets that glittered in the sunlight.
    Then I noted her incredible blue eyes. Had the carved head I’d just seen been her likeness?
    “How do you know my name?” I asked.
    “Peter told me. We’ve been having a little talk about his loss. I have promised to help him find his father.” She gestured to the huge block of white marble. Strangely, it was being used as a table, and at its center was a large bowl of grapes—something you rarely saw in County shops. They had to make a long journey to the main County port, Sunderland Point, so they were expensive. I’d only eaten them a couple of times in my life, but I could still remember their sweet, juicy taste. On either side of the grapes stood a long-stemmed glass—but surely you’d need a really high chair if you wanted to eat or drink at such a table? I thought.
    Then I noticed a fourth object atop the marble. It was a long, thin stick, like the switches sometimes used to punish children. But there was something different about it—the stick had been sharpened at one end.
    But then I was distracted by the girl’s voice.
    “How remiss of me,” she said sweetly. “You must both be very tired after your journey. Allow me to offer you refreshments.”
    She reached up and lifted the nearest glass from that strange table. She smiled at Peter and offered it to him. “Drink!” she urged. “It will revitalize both your body and your mind and take away all your fears.” She leaned forward so that her hair brushed against his forehead and kissed him gently on the cheek.
    Peter blushed a bright red but accepted the glass and stared at the liquid within. “What is it?” he asked.
    The girl moved away from him and smiled. “It is nectar.”
    Peter looked puzzled, but he took a sip.
    I was puzzled too. Nectar was the name for the liquid produced by flowering plants to attract insects such as bees. I’d never heard of people drinking it.
    But no sooner had he taken a sip than Peter’s face broke into a broad grin. “It’s delicious!” he remarked enthusiastically, and started to gulp it down as if this was his last day on earth and he had to grab as much pleasure as possible.
    “Now it is your turn, William. Put down your bag and staff—you have no need of such things here.”
    I was about to protest, but when I looked down, my bag and staff were already at my side, although I had no recollection of putting them there. Then, to my astonishment, I saw that I was wearing different clothes too—my spook’s cloak had gone, and I was dressed like Peter in a clean shirt and trousers. How had that happened?
    The girl reached up and lifted the second glass from the