“Poor boy, my foot,” snapped Marcia. “There’s something you should see.”
47
THE APPRENTICE
They set off at a brisk pace, Marcia striding ahead of them as best she could in her galoshes. Aunt Zelda had to break into a trot to keep up. She wore a look of dismay as she took in the destruction wrought by the floodwaters. There was mud, seaweed and slime everywhere. It hadn’t looked so bad in the moonlight the previous night, and besides, she had been so relieved to see everyone actually alive that a bit of mud and mess hardly seemed to matter. But in the revealing light of the morning it looked miserable. Suddenly she gave a cry of dismay.
“The chicken boat has gone! My chickens, my poor little chickens!”
“There are more important things in life than chickens,” Marcia declared, moving purposefully ahead.
“The rabbits!” wailed Aunt Zelda, suddenly realizing that the burrows must have all been swept away. “My poor bunnies, all gone.”
“Oh, do be quiet, Zelda!” Marcia snapped irritably.
Not for the first time, Aunt Zelda thought that Marcia’s return to the Wizard Tower could not come soon enough for her. Marcia led the way like a purple pied piper in full flight, marching across the mud, leading Jenna, Nicko, Boy 412 and a flustered Aunt Zelda to a spot beside the Mott just below the duck house.
As they neared their destination, Marcia stopped, wheeled around and said, “Now, I just want to tell you, this is not a pretty sight. In fact, maybe only Zelda should see this. I don’t want to go giving you all nightmares.”
“We’ve been having those already,” declared Jenna. “I don’t see what could be worse than my nightmares last night.”
Boy 412 and Nicko nodded in agreement. They had both slept very badly the previous night.
“Very well, then,” said Marcia. She stepped carefully across the mud behind the duck house and stopped by the Mott. “This is what I found this morning.”
“Eurgh!” Jenna hid her face in her hands.
“Oh, oh, oh,” gasped Aunt Zelda.
Boy 412 and Nicko were silent. They felt sick. Suddenly Nicko disappeared down to the Mott and was sick.
Lying on the muddy grass beside the Mott was what at first glance looked like an empty green sack. On second glance it looked like some strange unstuffed scarecrow. But on third glance, which Jenna only managed through her fingers covering her eyes, it was only too apparent what lay before them.
The empty body of the Apprentice.
Like a deflated balloon, the Apprentice lay, drained of all life and substance. His empty skin, still clad in its wet, salt-stained robes, lay strewn across the mud, discarded like an old banana skin.
“This,” said Marcia, “is the real Apprentice. I found him this morning on my walk. Which is why I knew for sure that the ‘Apprentice’ you had sitting by the fire was an impostor.”
“What happened to him?” Jenna whispered.
“He has been Consumed. It’s an old and particularly nasty trick. One from the Cryptic archives,” said Marcia gravely. “The ancient Necromancers used to do it all the time.”
“Is there nothing we can do for the boy?” asked Aunt Zelda.
“It’s too late, I’m afraid,” replied Marcia. “He is nothing more than a shadow now. By midday, he will be gone.”
Aunt Zelda sniffed. “He had a tough life, poor little mite. Snatched from his family and Apprenticed to that awful man. I don’t know what Sarah and Silas are going to say when they hear about this. It’s a terrible thing. Poor Septimus.”
“I know,” agreed Marcia. “But there’s nothing we can do for him now.”
“Well, I shall sit with him—what’s left of him—until he disappears,” murmured Aunt Zelda.
A subdued party minus Aunt Zelda made their way back to the cottage, each occupied with his or her own thoughts. Aunt Zelda came back briefly and disappeared into the Unstable Potions and Partikular Poisons cupboard before returning to the duck house, but everyone else spent the rest of the morning quietly cleaning up the mud and setting the cottage to rights. Boy 412 was relieved to see that the green rock Jenna had given him had not been touched by the Brownies. It was still where he had put it, folded carefully into his quilt, in a warm corner beside the fireplace.
In the afternoon, after they had coaxed the goat down from the roof—or what was left of it—they decided to take Maxie for a walk on the marsh. As they were leaving, Marcia called out to Boy 412, “Can you help me with something, please?”
Boy 412 was only too happy to stay behind. Although he was used to Maxie by now, he still was not entirely happy in his company. He never could understand why Maxie would suddenly take it into his head to jump up and lick his face, and the sight of Maxie’s glistening black nose and slobbery mouth always sent an unpleasant shiver through him. Try as he might, he just did not get the point of dogs. So Boy 412 happily waved Jenna and Nicko off to the marsh and went inside to see Marcia.
Marcia was sitting at Aunt Zelda’s small desk. Having won the battle of the desk before she went away, Marcia was determined to regain control now that she was back again. Boy 412 noticed that all of Aunt Zelda’s pens and notebooks had been dumped on the floor, apart from a few Marcia was busy Transforming into much smarter ones for her own use. She was doing this with a clear conscience as they had a definite Magykal purpose—at least Marcia hoped they were going to have—if all went as she planned.
“Ah, there you are,” Marcia said in that businesslike way that always made Boy 412 feel as though he had done something wrong. She dumped a scruffy old book on the desk in front of her.
“What’s your favorite color?” demanded Marcia. “Blue? Or red? I thought it might be red, seeing as you haven’t taken that awful red hat off since you got here.”
Boy 412 was taken aback. No one had ever bothered to ask him what his favorite color was. And, anyway, he wasn’t even sure if he knew. Then he remembered the beautiful blue inside the Dragon Boat.
“Um, blue. Sort of deep blue.”
“Ah, yes. I like that too. With some gold stars, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Um, that’s nice.”
Marcia waved her hands over the book in front of her and muttered something. There was a loud rustling of paper as all the pages sorted themselves out. They got rid of Aunt Zelda’s jottings and doodlings, and also her favorite recipe for cabbage stew, and they turned themselves into a brand-new, smooth, cream-colored paper, perfect for writing on. Then they bound themselves in lapis lazuli–colored leather complete with real gold stars and a purple spine that showed the diary belonged to the Apprentice of the ExtraOrdinary Wizard. As a final touch Marcia added a clasp of pure gold and a small silver key.
She opened the book to check that the spell had worked. Marcia was pleased to see that the first and last pages of the book were bright red, exactly the same color as Boy 412’s hat. Written on the first page were the words: APPRENTICE DIARY.
“There,” said Marcia, closing the book with a satisfying thump and turning the silver key in the lock. “It looks good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Boy 412, bemused. Why was she asking him?
Marcia looked Boy 412 in the eye.
“Now,” she said, “I have something to return to you—your ring. Thank you. I will always remember what you did for me.”
Marcia took the ring from a pocket in her belt and placed it carefully on the desk. Just seeing the gold dragon ring curled on the desk with its tail clasped in its mouth and its emerald eyes shining at him made Boy 412 feel very happy. But for some reason he hesitated to pick it up. He could tell there was something else that Marcia was about to say. And there was.
“Where did you get the ring?”
Immediately Boy 412 felt guilty. So he had done something wrong. That’s what it was all about.
“I—I found it.”
“Where?”
“I fell down into the tunnel. You know, the one that went to the Dragon Boat. Only I didn’t know that then. It was dark. I couldn’t see. And then I found the ring.”
“Did you put the ring on?”
“Well, yes.”
“And then what happened?”
“It—it lit up. So I could see where I was.”