Spook's Secret (wc-3) (11 page)

    The falling stones were getting larger by the minute, and just as we reached the tree, one bigger than my fist clanged onto the shield, nearly deafening me.

    'Hold it steady lad!' the Spook shouted.

    Then the stones stopped falling.

    'Over there . . .' My master pointed, and in the darkness below the tree's branches I could see the boggart starting to take shape. The Spook had told me that this type of boggart was really a spirit and had no flesh, blood and bone of its own; but sometimes, when it tried to scare people, it covered itself with things that made it visible to human eyes. This time it was using the stones and mud from beneath the tree. They rose up in a big whirling wet cloud and stuck to it so that its shape could be seen.

    It wasn't a pretty sight. It had six huge arms which, I suppose, were pretty useful for throwing stones. No wonder it could hurl so many so fast. Its head was enormous too, and its face covered with mud, slime and pebbles that moved when it scowled at us, just as if an earthquake were taking place underneath. There was a black slit for a mouth and two large black holes where its eyes should have been.

    Ignoring the boggart and wasting no time, as stones started to shower down again, the Spook went straight for the tree, the axe already swinging down as he reached it. The gnarled old wood was tough and it took quite a few blows to lop off its branches. I'd lost sight of the boggart, being too busy trying to hold the shield up and ward off the worst of the stones that came our way. The shield seemed to be getting heavier by the minute and my arms were trembling with the effort of holding it aloft.

    The Spook attacked the trunk, striking at it in a fury. I knew then why he'd chosen an axe with a double-blade: he swung it both forehand and backhand in huge scything arcs, so that I felt in danger of my life. Looking at him, you'd never have guessed he was so strong. He was a long way from being young, but I knew then, by the way the axe-blade bit deep into the wood, that despite his age and recent ill health he was still at least as strong as the blacksmith and would have made two of my dad.

    The Spook didn't chop the tree right down; he split the trunk, then put down the axe and reached into his black leather bag. I couldn't see what he was doing properly because the stones began to rain down harder than ever. I glanced sideways and saw the boggart begin to ripple and expand: huge bulging muscles were erupting all over its body like angry boils. And, as more mud and pebbles flew up, it almost doubled in size. Then two things happened in quick succession.

    The first was that a huge boulder fell out of the sky to our right and buried itself half in the ground. If that had landed on top of us, the shield would have been useless. We'd both have been flattened. The second was that the tree suddenly burst into flames. As I said, I didn't get a chance to see how the Spook managed it, but the result was certainly spectacular. The tree went up with a great
whoosh
and flames lit up the sky, sparks crackling away in every direction.

    When I looked left, the boggart had vanished, so with trembling arms I lowered the shield and rested its lower edge on the ground. No sooner had I done so than the Spook picked up his bag, leaned the axe against his shoulder and, without a word or a backward glance, set off down the fell.

    'Come on, lad!' he called after me. 'Don't dawdle!'

    So I picked up the shield and followed, not risking even a glance backwards.

    After a while the Spook slowed down and I caught him up. Ts that it?' I asked. Ts it over?'

    'Don't be daft!' he said, shaking his head. 'It's only just begun. That was just the first step. Henry Luddock's farm is safe now but that boggart will strike again somewhere else very soon. There's a lot worse to come yet!'

    I was disappointed because I'd thought the danger was over and our task completed. I'd been really looking forward to a hot, tasty meal, but now the Spook had dashed my hopes because we'd have to carry on fasting.

    As soon as we got back, he told Henry Luddock that he'd got rid of the boggart. The farmer thanked him and promised to pay him the following autumn, directly after the harvest; five minutes later we were on our way back to the Spook's winter house.

    'Are you sure that boggart will come back? I really thought the job was done,' I told the Spook as we crossed the moor, the wind blustering at our backs.

    'In truth, the job's half done, lad, but the worst is yet to come. Just as a squirrel buries acorns to eat later, a boggart stores reserves of power where it lives. Mercifully, that's now gone, burned away with the tree. We've won the first big battle, but after a couple of days spent gathering strength, it'll start plaguing somebody else.'

    'So are we going to bind it in a pit?'

    'Nay lad. When a stone-chucker kills so casually, it needs to be finished off for good!'

    'Where will it get new strength from?' I asked.

    'Fear, lad. That's how it'll do it. A stone-chucker feeds upon the fear of those it torments. Some poor family nearby is in for a night of terror. I don't know where it'll go and who it'll choose so there's nothing I can do about it and no warnings to be given. It's just one of the things we have to accept. Like killing that poor old tree. I didn't want to do it but I had little choice. That boggart'll keep moving, gathering strength, but within a day or two it'll find itself a new, more permanent home. And that's when somebody will come and ask us for help.'

    'Why did the boggart become rogue in the first place?' I asked. 'Why did it kill?'

    'Why do
people
kill?' asked the Spook. 'Some do and some don't. And some who start out good end up bad. I reckon this stone-chucker got fed up with being just a hall-knocker and lurking around buildings scaring people with raps and bumps in the night. It wanted more: it wanted the whole hillside to itself and planned to drive poor old Henry Luddock and his family out of their farm. But now, because we've destroyed its home, it'll need a new one. So it'll move further down the ley'

    I nodded.

    'Well, maybe this'll cheer you up,' he said, pulling a piece of yellow cheese out of his pocket. He broke a small piece off and handed it to me. 'Chew on this,' he told me, 'but don't swallow it all at once.'

    Once back at the Spook's house, we brought Meg up from the cellar and I settled back into my routine of chores and lessons. But there was one big difference. As we were expecting boggart trouble, the fast continued. It was torture for me to watch Meg cook her own meals while we went hungry. We had three full days of starving ourselves until my stomach thought my throat had been cut, but at last, about noon on the fourth day, there came a loud knocking on the back door...

    'Well, go and see to it, lad!' commanded the Spook. 'No doubt it's the news we've been waiting for.'

    I did as I was told, but when I opened the door, to my astonishment, I found Alice waiting there.

    'Old Mr Hurst sent me,' Alice said. 'There's boggart trouble down at Moor View Farm. Well? Aren't you going to ask me in?'

The Stone Chucker's Return

    
T
he Spook had been right in his prediction but he was as surprised as I'd been when I showed our visitor into the kitchen. 'The boggart's turned up at the Hursts' farm' I told him. 'Mr Hurst's asked for help.'

    'Come through to the parlour, girl. We'll talk there' he said, turning to lead the way.

    Alice smiled at me, but not before she'd glanced towards Meg, who had her back to us and was warming her hands over the fire.

    'Sit yourself down' my master said to Alice, closing the parlour door. 'Now tell me all about it. Start at the beginning and take your time.'

    'Ain't much to tell' Alice began. 'Tom's told me enough about boggarts for me to be sure that it's a stone-chucker. It's been throwing rocks at the farm for days - it ain't safe to go out. Risked my life just getting out to fetch you. The yard's full of boulders. There's hardly a pane of glass left and it's knocked three pots off the chimney stack. It's a wonder nobody's been hurt.'

    'Hasn't Morgan tried to do anything about it?' asked the Spook. T taught him enough of the basics about boggarts.'

    'Ain't seen him for days. Good riddance to bad rubbish!'

    'Sounds like it's what we've been waiting for' I said.

    'Aye, reckon so. You'd best prepare the herb tea. Make it as strong as last time.'

    I stood up and opened the cupboard next to the fireplace, taking out the big brown glass bottle. As I turned round, I could see the disapproval on Alice's face. The Spook saw it too.

    'No doubt, as usual, the lad's told you all about my private business. Therefore you'll know what he's going to do and why it's necessary. So take that look off your face!'

    Alice didn't reply but followed me into the kitchen and watched me make the herb tea while the Spook went into his study to bring his diary up to date. By the time I'd finished, Meg was dozing in her chair, so I had to wake her gently by shaking her shoulder.

    'Here, Meg,' I told her as she opened her eyes. 'Here's your herb tea. Sip it carefully so that you don't burn your mouth .. .'

    She accepted the cup but then stared at it thoughtfully. 'Haven't I already had my tea today, Billy?'

    'You need an extra cup, Meg, because the weather's getting colder by the day'

    'Oh! Who's your friend, Billy? She's such a pretty girl! What lovely brown eyes!'

    Alice smiled when she called me 'Billy' and introduced herself.

    'I'm Alice and I used to live at Chipenden. Now I'm staying at a farm nearby'

    'Well, come and visit us whenever you want,' Meg invited. T don't get much female company these days. I'd be glad to see you.'

    'Drink your tea, Meg,' I interrupted. 'Sip it while it's hot. It's best for you that way'

    So Meg began to sip the potion and it didn't take that long for her to finish the lot and nod off to sleep.

    'Better get her down the steps into the cold and damp!' Alice said, an edge of bitterness in her voice.

    I didn't get a chance to reply because the Spook came out of the study and lifted Meg from her chair. I took the candle and unlocked the gate while he carried her down to her room in the cellar. Alice stayed in the kitchen. Five minutes after our return, the three of us were on the road.

    Moor View Farm had taken a battering. Just as Alice had described, the yard was full of stones and almost every pane of glass had been smashed. The kitchen window was the only one still intact. The front door was locked but the Spook used his key and had it open in seconds. We searched for the Hursts and found them cowering in the cellar; of the boggart there was no sign at all.

    The Spook wasted no time.

    'You'll have to leave here right away' he told the old farmer and his wife. 'I'm afraid there's nothing else for it. Just pack essentials and get yourselves gone. Leave me to do what's necessary.'

    'But where will we go?' Mrs Hurst asked, close to tears.

    'If you stay, I can't guarantee your lives' the Spook told them bluntly. 'You've relatives down in Adlington. They'll have to take you in.'

    'How long before we can come back?' asked Mr Hurst. He was worried about his livelihood.

    'Three days at the most' answered the Spook. 'But don't worry about the farm. My lad'll do what's necessary.'

    While they packed, my master ordered me to do as many of the farm chores as possible. Everything was quiet: no stones were falling and it seemed that the boggart was resting. So, making the best of that situation, I started by milking the cows; it was nearly dark by the time I'd finished. When I walked into the kitchen, the Spook was sitting at the table alone. 'Where's Alice?' I asked.

    'Gone with the Hursts, where else? We can't have a girl getting under our feet when there's a boggart to be dealt with.'

    I was really tired so I didn't bother to argue with him. I'd just half hoped that Alice would have been allowed to stay.

    'Sit yourself down and take that glum look off your face, lad. It's enough to turn the milk sour. We need to be ready'

    'Where's the boggart now?' I asked.

    The Spook shrugged. 'Resting under a tree or a big boulder, I suppose. Now that it's dark it won't be long before it arrives. Boggarts can be active in daylight and, as we found to our cost up on the fell, will certainly defend themselves if provoked. But night is their favourite time and when they're at their strongest.

    'If it is the same boggart we met up at Stone Farm, then things are likely to get rough. For one thing it'll remember us as soon as it gets close and it'll want revenge for what we did. Breaking windows and knocking a few chimney pots down won't be enough. It'll try to smash this farmhouse to the ground with us inside it. So it'll be a fight to the finish. Anyway, lad, cheer up,' he said, catching a glimpse of my worried face. 'It's an old house but it's built of good County stone on very strong foundations. Most boggarts are even more stupid than they look, so we're not dead yet. What we need to do is weaken it further. I'll offer myself as a target. When I've sapped its strength, you finish it off with salt and iron, so get your pockets filled, lad, and be ready!'

    I'd used that old salt and iron trick myself when I'd faced the old witch, Mother Malkin. The two combined substances were very effective against the dark. Salt would burn the boggart; iron would bleed away its power.

    So I did as my master instructed, filling my pockets from the pouches of salt and iron that he kept in his bag.

    Just before midnight the boggart attacked. A big storm had been brewing for hours and the first distant rumbles had given way to crashes of thunder overhead and flashes of sheet lightning. We were both in the kitchen, sitting at the table, when it happened.