Bad Apple (The Warner Grimoire) (40 page)

Molly blushed. “Just better make sure I don’t change my mind before the big day.”

Sam smiled. “I’ll behave.”

“You better.”

Simon ducked under the plastic sheet, leading the new bread deliveryman. He was a young, gangly boy with a thin neck hiding under a sparse beard and his eyes were covered by stringy brown hair. He struggled with his bread cart, which was twice his size. Simon lifted the plastic for him.

Sam broke away from Molly to help them. “I’m glad to see you helping more, Simon.”

“Sure,” Simon said, rubbing his wrist. He had just gotten the cast off the week before “I’m glad to.”

“Great!” Molly grabbed a tub of wrapped silverware. “Can you set the tables for me? Chief McTaggart and his men are going to be over soon for their thank-you breakfast.”

“We sure were lucky they were able to save what they did,” Sam said, walking down the back hallway. “I’m still not sure about the new tablecloths though.”

Simon took the tub of silverware and ducked under the plastic again. Light filled the new dining room--Sam had large windows installed in place of the old tiny ones, and gone were the huge, bleak curtains, replaced with lightly colored cafe-blinds that let the sun in easily. New booths lined the walls, and brand new tables filled the center of the dining room. Above the entrance hung the familiar rabbit foot, having miraculously survived the fire. Happiness filled the room.

So did one unexpected man. His chestnut hair dangled in front of his eyes, and he had at least a week’s worth of stubble. He was taller than Simon by a foot, and was wearing a beaten-up green coat with a inexpertly repaired tear on the right shoulder. His whole coat was splattered in mud, and he looked like he hadn’t slept inside in days. He had a large canvas bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hello Simon,” Nathan said, his eyes low. “You have a minute?”

Simon blinked. He stood in place for a moment. “I--yeah, yeah.” He set the tub of silverware on one of the ugly new tablecloths. “How are you?”

“Good.” Nathan nodded a few times. “Good. How’s your--” he pointed at Simon’s hand.

“Good,” Simon said. “Just got the cast off.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

They stood quiet for a moment. Nathan was first to break the silence. “Oh!” he said suddenly. He fished in his pocket. “Here,” he said, pulling out a silver fork. “Told you I’d get it back for you.” He smiled and meekly set it on the nearest table. He waited for Simon to speak, but he remained quiet. He fidgeted for a moment before speaking. “That’s not all,” he said, reaching into one of his many pockets. He withdrew something completely unexpected. He fumbled with it for a moment, unsure of how to continue. He took a quick step forward. “Here,” he said quietly, looking at Simon very cautiously, handing him the object from his coat.

It was a book.

Simon was confused. “What’s this?” The book was brown and a little beaten, and as he turned it over in his hands. Slowly it dawned on him where he had seen it. “This is from--”

“The Freemancers,” Nathan said.

Simon opened the book cautiously, unsure what he would find. The very first page was blank, and his heart absolutely sunk, but then, something strange began to happen--words began to flicker and burn into the page, and when the message became clear his heart leapt:

SIMON THEODORE WARNER

BORN IN A SNOWSTORM, RAISED IN A FOREST

APPRENTICE (NEUTRAL STANDING)

DIVISION NO. 713

THE GREAT HALL OF THE FREE AND ACCEPTED MANCERS OF NOVA MUNDUS

ESTABLISHED 1680

UNDER THE ASSIGNMENT AND TUTELAGE OF:

NATHAN ALAN TAMERLANE, JOURNEYMAN (QUESTIONABLE STANDING)

APPROVED AND SIGNED, ELLICOTT STERLING, ARCHMANCER

Below that, written in a different hand, flickered a second message, written in Nicodemus’s handwriting:

DARROW WATCHES

“How?” was all he could think to say. “I haven’t taken the trials for apprenticeship. I’m not sworn. I’m too old. I thought I couldn’t--“

“It would appear that someone very persuasive seems to think your...
involvement
...last autumn fits the requirement. As far as the age consideration, I’m not worried.”

Simon closed the book. A copper version of the Freemancer’s Leaf slowly formed on the front cover before his eyes, burning with an odorless, smokeless fire. Something inside him ebbed at the sight of the cover--his heart beat loudly in his ears for a moment before settling back to its normal rhythm.

“The first thing you must know,” Nathan said. “Your grimoire is your closest companion. It will stay with you no matter where go, remember everything you do.”

Simon remembered finding the then-blank book in his backpack at the Archives. It had been odd then, but now a question burned deep in his mind. Why had it been following him then?

“The copper on the cover signifies apprentices,” Nathan added. “That will change as you advance. Any questions?”

About a thousand leapt to mind, but right then Sam and Molly came walking into the dining room. “Simon,” Sam said. “I want your opinion. These tablecloths. Are they really all that...” He stopped short by the counter and smiled a huge, grateful smile. “Nathan?”

“Hey there,” Nathan said quietly. “Glad to see you’re still enjoying the life of a free man.”

“I have you and Peter to thank for that,” Sam said. “I understand the council took a lot of convincing.”

“That they did,” Nathan said. “Lots and lots of meetings. They had to re-enchant the Timeless Room,” he added with a smirk. “But you’re free and clear. You’re even welcome back in Silverwood.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, “but I plan to stay here.” He hugged Molly around the waist.

Nathan glanced at her and snatched the fork from the table. “I brought this back,” he said. “I told you I would.”

Molly gave them all a sidelong glance then broke away, quickly disappearing back behind the plastic.

Sam crossed the dining room quickly, reaching out to shake Nathan’s hand. “How have you been?” He caught sight of the grimoire in Simon’s hand. “Oh.” A smile crept across his face. “Who’s call was that?”

“I think you know,” Nathan said.

Sam reached for the grimoire. “May I?” Simon handed it over slowly. “Heh,” Sam said. “Sterling.
He
must have just loved that.” He returned the book to Simon. “I know we’ve talked, Simon.” He paused. “Since we came back. I’ll support your choice, whatever you want it to be. Nathan’s a good mentor, believe it or not.” He glanced at Nathan, then back to Simon. “Is this what you want?”

Simon swallowed the nervous feeling that was crawling up from his stomach. “It is.”

Sam chuckled. “It’s a good match,” he said to Nathan. “Bet you didn’t expect to pick up another apprentice.”

Nathan smiled at Sam. “You have been nothing but trouble, cousin.”

“At least I’m settling down.”

“Not nearly soon enough.”

“Wait,” Simon said. “Cousin?”

Nathan and Sam both smiled. “That makes us related,” Nathan said. “Funny how those things work, right? Everyone is connected one way or another, ours is just closer than most.”

All connected
. A horrible thought slithered through Simon’s mind. “What about Boeman? Is he gone?” he asked. “For good, I mean? He blew away, in the graveyard, so he’s...he’s not coming back, is he?”

“He had to blow somewhere,” Nathan said grimly. “
Things
like
him are hard to destroy. We haven’t seen the last of him, I’m certain of that.”

Simon’s stomach seized. “Can’t he come and go from the grounds since he’s in the Freemancers?”

“Now here’s the thing,” Nathan said, a small grin spreading across his face. “Seems that his official standing has vanish. The records clerk Marilyn seems to have no record of him. On a
completely
unrelated
note, Hannibal Hewn sends his regards as well, and he also wanted me to tell you that if any more records clerks need help with their record keeping, to please think of him.”

Sam suppressed a small chuckle. “Stay for breakfast?”

“I wish I--well,
we
--could stay.” Nathan blushed. “But...”

Sam raised one eyebrow. “What?”

“They’ve given me an assignment.”

“What?
You
? They must be getting desperate.”

“Part of my
probation
. I have to work off my punishment for striking a
certain
junior board member.” Nathan smiled. “It was worth it. Besides!” he said, “I always thought practical experience beat book learning any old day.” He clapped a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “I’m ready when you are.”

Simon’s head was swimming. “I need to pack,” he said. “Books, clothes...I’m...something else, I’m sure. I need--“

“Do what I do,” Nathan said. “Just the essentials. Everything else you’ll find along the way. Usually works out. Speaking of that, cousin, could we get some breakfast to go?”

“Sure, cash or charge?”

“Open me a tab?”

Sam chuckled and ducked under the plastic sheet. Simon followed, running up the stairs two at a time. He burst into the apartment, which had been largely undamaged by the fire, and was now big enough for all of them after the remodel. He grabbed his backpack from behind the couch and dumped his schoolwork out on the cushions. He stuffed his grimoire inside, then after making sure he was alone, he slipped behind the orange couch and pushed it aside. He pulled up the loose floorboard, then reached under and pulled out his composition notebook, and then
Speaking with the Dead
. He knew in the back of his mind if he saw Penny again she would ask him about the book, but he wouldn’t mind. He slipped it quietly into his bag alongside some spare clothing. He ran to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush, and when he glanced in the mirror, he saw it, unmistakable in the dim light--a green flash rippled across his eyes, tiny emerald ribbons which ebbed and glowed in the dark light. Boeman’s color. His parents’ color. And now,
his color
.

“Warlock
,” whispered the Other Voice.

He backed away from the mirror and rushed down the stairs. Molly and Zoey were in the kitchen. He tucked what he had seen in the mirror to the back of his mind and gave each a quick hug, then went out to the dining room just in time to find Sam handing a large paper bag over to Nathan. The two men shook hands.

“We’re always here,” Sam said, offering Simon his hand. He had never done that before. “You made sure of that,” he said, shaking Simon’s hand firmly. He knelt down and looked Simon deep in the eyes. “When the day comes, we will find them, together. No more hiding, I promise you that. We will find your parents. Together.” Simon swallowed hard, unsure how to feel about this promise, then hugged his uncle again.

Nathan was at the door, the paper bag tucked firmly under his arm. He checked his grimoire, flipping quickly through several pages. After a moment he found the page he was looking for, jabbing it with his finger. “Hmm. Frontier Order, out West. This should be interesting.” He snapped the book shut. “You ready Simon?
Captain Broussard
has offered to give us a lift again. Silverwood first to check in and get you a few necessities, then we’re taking the train.”

“Silverwood?” Sam said. “Please give Kate our regards when you see her again, and thank her for us.” Nathan blushed in response, rubbing his thumb against his eyebrow to hide his embarrassment.

Simon hugged each of them one more time and approached the door. Beyond it stood a whole new world, one monumentally bigger then anything he had ever expected or even imagined. One with his parents, one with answers--
Speaking with the Dead
would help with that somehow, he was certain. He was ready, and he clenched his backpack tight. His ears buzzed as he passed through the threshold, walking beneath the rabbit foot. His family was safe now, and his own journey was just beginning.

“
We’re watching,”
whispered the Other Voice.

I know,
Simon thought.
I’m counting on it
. And with that, he took one last deep breath, adjusted his backpack, and followed Nathan out into the new day.

SNEAK PREVIEW

The following section is a sneak preview of

Revenant Moon: Book Two of the Warner Grimoire.

This sample represents a work in progress. Parts are subject to change.