The Devil's Apprentice by Jan Siegel

Author:Jan Siegel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing Ltd

London, twenty-first century

PEN AND GAVIN didn’t stop to exchange a word. As one they dived back into the house, slamming the door behind them. The gibbering mob vanished into silence. The blood-stained beach, the sea-monster, the avenging rider – all were gone. The quiet closed around them, sealing them in. The only sound was their breathing, hoarse with the aftermath of fear. They stared at one another in the dawning horror of realisation.

‘Dear God,’ said Pen, ‘what have we done? Those people... all those people...’

After a while, Gavin said: ‘Even if we’d saved them, what would they do next? This is the twenty-first century. They didn’t speak our language – they wouldn’t be able to cope in our world. How would they live – here?’

Pen shook her head numbly. ‘Perhaps... they would have been absorbed. After all, we’re part of history too. Only we... killed them.’

‘No,’ said Gavin hollowly. ‘We didn’t save them. That’s all.’

‘Is that any better?’

‘No.’

After a further pause, he offered: ‘They condemned the girl. They must have.’

‘Yes, but... nobody deserves what was happening to them. Nobody deserves to be eaten.’

Gavin shuddered, possibly from a twinge of empathy.

He said: ‘There’s no point in getting the guilts. It was all a long time ago, in some half magical place. Our being there wasn’t even meant.’ So much for facing up to your fears. He had confronted one horror, only to saddle himself with a worse one. Another time, he would let sleeping traumas lie.

A little later Pen said: ‘I wonder how she did it. The girl, I mean – taming the sea-monster.’

‘Secretly feeding it monster-drops for the past few months?’ Gavin suggested.

Pen smiled wanly.

‘I expect she was a witch of some kind,’ Gavin said. ‘She looked like a witch.’

‘There aren’t any witches,’ said Pen, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Gavin said: ‘Let’s go home,’ meaning back to 7A. ‘We need more chocolate. Very hot and very chocolatey. With brandy and everything.’

‘It won’t change what we did,’ said Pen. Her cheeks felt clammy; she realised she must have been crying.

‘I know.’

They went out, leaving the Rembrandt sketch forgotten on the table. After they had gone, something stole softly down the stairs and picked it up, studying it intently for a long time.

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