The Spook's Battle (2 page)

 When we entered the kitchen, the Spook was sitting at the table writing in his notebook, a candle flickering at his side. He glanced up but didn't say anything because he was too busy concentrating. We sat ourselves down on two stools, which we drew close to the hearth. As it was summer, the fire was small, but it still sent a comforting warm glow up into our faces.At last my master snapped his notebook shut and looked up. "Who won tonight?" he asked."Alice," I said, hanging my head."That's three nights in a row the girl's gotten the better of you, lad. You're going to have to do better than that. A lot better. First thing in the morning, before breakfast, I'll see you in the western garden. It's extra practice for you."7I groaned inside. In the garden was a wooden post which was used as a target. If the practice didn't go well, my master would keep me at it for a long time and breakfast would be delayed.I set off for the garden just after dawn, but the Spook was already there, waiting for me."Well, lad, what kept you?" he chided. "Doesn't take that long to rub the sleep out of your eyes!"I still felt tired, but I tried my best to smile and look bright and alert. Then, with my silver chain coiled over my left hand, I took careful aim at the post.Soon I was feeling a lot better. For the one hundredth time since starting, I flicked my wrist and the chain cracked sharply as it unfurled, soaring through the air and glittering brightly in the morning sunshine to fall in a perfect widdershins spiral about the practice post.

 Until a week earlier, the best I'd been able to achieve from eight feet was an average of nine successful throws out of ten attempts. But now, suddenly, the long months of practice had finally paid off. When the chain was coiled about the post for the hundredth time that morning, I hadn't missed even once!I tried not to smile, I really did, but the sides of my mouth began to twitch upward, and within moments a wide grin split my face. I saw the Spook shaking his head, but try as I might, I couldn't get the grin under control."Don't get above yourself, lad!" he warned, striding toward me through the grass. "I hope you're not getting complacent. Pride comes before a fall, as many have found to their cost. And as I've often told you before, a witch won't stand still while you make your throw! From what the girl told me about last night, you've a long way to go yet. Right, let's try some throws on the run!"For the next hour I was made to cast at the post while on the move. Sometimes sprinting, sometimes jogging, running toward it, away from it, casting forward, obliquely or back over my shoulder, I did it all, working hard but growing hungrier by the minute. I missed the post lots of times, but I also had a few spectacular successes. The Spook was finally satisfied, and we moved on to something he'd only introduced me to a few weeks earlier.He handed me his staff and led me to the dead tree we used for target practice. I pressed the lever to release the hidden blade in the staff and then spent the next fifteen minutes or so treating the rotten trunk as if it were an enemy threatening my life. Time and time again I drove the blade into it until my arms grew heavy and tired. The most recent trick my master had taught me was to hold the staff casually in my right hand before quickly transferring it to my stronger left and stabbing it hard into the tree. There was a knack to it. You sort of flicked it from one hand to the other.When I showed signs of weariness, the Spook clicked his tongue. "Come on, lad, let's see you do it again. One day it might just save your life!"This time I did it almost perfectly: the Spook nodded and led us back through the trees for a hard-earned breakfast.

 Ten minutes later Alice had joined us and the three of us were seated at the large oak table in the kitchen, tucking into a big breakfast of ham and eggs cooked by the Spook's pet boggart. The boggart had lots of jobs to do around the house in Chipenden: cooking, making the fires, and washing the pots, as well as guarding the house and gardens. It wasn't a bad cook, but it sometimes reacted to what was happening in the house, and if it was feeling angry or moody, then you could expect an unappetizing meal. Well, the boggart was certainly in a good mood that morning, because I remember thinking it was one of the best breakfasts it had ever cooked.We ate in silence, but as I was mopping up the last bit of yellow yolk with a large slice of buttered bread, the Spook pushed back his chair and stood up. He paced backward and forward across the flags in front of the hearth, then came to a halt facing the table and stared straight at me."I'm expecting a visitor later today, lad," he said. "We've a lot to discuss, so once he's arrived and you've met him, I'd like time to talk to him in private. I think it's about time you went home, back to your brother's farm, to collect those trunks that your mam left you. I think it's best to bring them back here to Chipenden, where you can search through them thoroughly. We may well find things in there that'll prove useful on our trip to Pendle. We're going to need all the help we can get."My dad had died last winter and left the farm to Jack, my eldest brother.

 But after Dad's death we'd discovered something very unusual in his will.Mam had a special room in our home farm. It was just under the attic, and she always kept it locked. This room had been left to me, together with the trunks and boxes it contained, and the will stated that I could go there any time I wanted. This had upset my brother Jack and his wife, Ellie. My job as an apprentice to the Spook worried them. They feared that I might bring something from the dark back to the house. Not that I blamed them; that was exactly what had happened the previous spring, and all their lives had been in danger.But it was Mam's wish that I inherit the room and its contents, and before she went away she'd made sure that both Ellie and Jack accepted the situation. She'd returned to her own land, Greece, to fight the rising power of the dark there. It made me sad to think that I might never see her again, and I suppose that's why I'd kept putting off going to look in the trunks. Although I was curious to find out what they contained, I couldn't face the thought of seeing the farmhouse again, empty of both Mam and Dad."Yes, I'll do that," I told my master. "But who's your visitor?""A friend of mine," said the Spook. "He's lived in Pendle for years, and he'll be invaluable in helping with what we need to do there."I was astonished. My master kept his distance from people, and because he dealt with ghosts, ghasts, boggarts and witches, they certainly kept their distance from him! I'd never imagined for a moment that he knew somebody whom he regarded as a friend!"Close your mouth, lad, or you'll start collecting flies!" he said. "Oh, and you'll be taking young Alice with you. I'll have lots of things to discuss, and I'd like both of you out from under my feet.""But Jack won't want a visit from Alice as well," I protested.It wasn't that I didn't want Alice to come with me. I'd be glad of her company on the journey. It was just that Jack and Alice didn't exactly get on. He knew that she was the niece of a witch, and he didn't want her near his family."Use your initiative, lad. Once you've hired a horse and cart, she can wait outside the farm boundary while you load up the trunks. And I'll expect you back here as soon as possible.

 Now, time's short--I can't spare more than half an hour for your lessons today, so let's get started."I followed the Spook out to the western garden and was soon seated on the bench there, my notebook open and pen at the ready. It was a nice warm morning. The sheep bleated in the distance and the fells ahead were bathed in bright sunshine, dappled by small cloud shadows chasing one another toward the east.The first year of my apprenticeship had largely been devoted to the study of boggarts; the topic for this year was witches."Right, lad," said the Spook, starting to pace up and down as he spoke. "As you know, a witch can't sniff us out because we're both seventh sons of seventh sons. But that only applies to what we call long-sniffing. So write that down. It's your first heading. Long-sniffing is sniffing out the approach of danger in advance, just as Bony Lizzie sniffed out that mob from Chipenden that burned down her house. A witch can't sniff us out that way, so that gives us the element of surprise."But it's short-sniffing that we must beware of, so write that down, too, and underline it for emphasis. Up relatively close, a witch can find out a lot about us and knows in an instant our weaknesses and strengths. And the nearer you are to a witch, the more she finds out. So always keep your distance, lad. Never let a witch get nearer to you than the length of your rowan staff. Allowing her to come close holds other dangers, too--be especially careful not to let a witch breathe into your face. Her breath can sap both your will and your strength. Grown men have been known to faint away on the spot!""I remember Bony Lizzie's foul breath," I told him. "It was more animal than human. More like that of a cat or a dog!""Aye, it was that, lad. Because, as we know, Lizzie used bone magic and sometimes fed from human flesh or drank human blood."Bony Lizzie, Alice's aunt, wasn't dead. She was imprisoned in a pit in the Spook's eastern garden. It was cruel, but it had to be done.

 The Spook didn't hold with burning witches, so he kept the County safe by locking them in a pit."But not all witches have the foul breath of those who dabble in bone and blood magic," my master continued. "A witch who only uses familiar magic might have breath that's as fragrant as May blossoms. So beware, for in that16sweetness lies great danger. Such a witch has the power of fascination--write that word down, too, lad. Just as a stoat can freeze a rabbit in its tracks while it moves closer, so some witches can dupe a man. They can make him complacent and happy, totally unaware of danger until it's far too late."And that's very closely allied to another power of some witches. We call it glamour --so get that word down as well. A witch can make herself appear to be something she's not. She can seem younger and more beautiful than she really is. Using that deceitful power, she can create an aura --projecting a false image --and we should always be on our guard. Because once glamour has attracted a man, it's the beginning of fascination and a gradual eroding of his free will. Using those tools, a witch can bind him to her will so that he believes her every lie and sees only what she wishes him to see."And glamour and fascination are a serious threat to us, too. Being a seventh son of a seventh son won't help one bit. So beware! I suppose you still think I've been harsh where Alice is concerned. But I did it for the best, lad. I've always feared that, one day, she might use those powers to control you --""No," I interrupted. "That's not fair. I like Alice --not because she's bewitched me, but because she's turned out all right and been a good friend to me. To both of us! Before Mam left, she told me she had faith in Alice, and that's good enough for me.

 "The Spook nodded, and there was a sadness in his expression. "Your mam may well be right. Time will tell, but just be on your guard --that's all I ask. Even a strong man can succumb to the wiles of a pretty girl with pointy shoes. As I know from experience. And now write up what I've just told you about witches."The Spook sat down on the bench beside me and was silent while I wrote it all down in my notebook. After I'd finished, I had a question for him."When we go to Pendle, are there any special dangers we face from the witch covens? Anything I've not heard about so far?"The Spook stood up and began to pace backward and forward again, deep in thought. "Pendle district is riddled with witches--there might well be things I've never come up against myself. We'll have to be flexible and ready to learn. But I think the biggest problem we face is their sheer numbers. Witches often bicker and argue, but when they do agree and meet together with a common purpose, their strength is greatly increased. Aye--we must beware that. You see, that's right at the heart of the threat we face--that the witch clans might unite."And here's something else for your notebook--you need to get the terminology correct. A coven is the term for thirteen witches gathering to combine their strength in some ceremony that evokes the powers of the dark. But the larger family of witches is commonly called a clan. And a clan includes their menfolk and children, as well as family members who don't directly practice dark magic."

 The Spook waited patiently until I'd finished writing before continuing the lesson. "Basically, as I've told you before, there are three main witch clans in Pendle--the Malkins, the Deanes, and the Mouldheels--and the first is the worst of all. All of them row and bicker, but the Malkins and the Deanes have gotten closer over the years. They have intermarried. Your friend Alice is the result of just such a union. Her mother was a Malkin and her father a Deane, but the good news there is that neither of them was a practicing witch. On the other hand, both parents died young, and as you know, she was given into the care of Bony Lizzie. The training she received there is something she'll always struggle to overcome, and the danger in taking her back to Pendle is that she might revert to type and rejoin one of the clans."Again I was about to object, but my master stopped me with a gesture. "Let's just hope that doesn't happen," he continued, "but if she isn't bent back toward the dark, her local knowledge is going to be very important. She will be of invaluable help to us and our work."Now, as for the third clan, the Mouldheels, they're much more mysterious. In addition to using blood and bone magic, they pride themselves on being skilled with mirrors. As I've told you before, I don't believe in prophecy, but it's said that the Mouldheels mainly use mirrors for scrying.""Scrying?" I asked. "What's that?""Telling the future, lad. They say the mirrors show them what's going to happen. Now, the Mouldheels have mostly kept their distance from the other two clans, but recently I've heard that someone or something is keen for them to put aside that ancient enmity. And that's what we have to prevent. Because if the three clans unite and, more importantly, if they get three covens together, then who knows what evil they will launch upon the County? As you may remember, they did it once before, many years ago, and cursed me."

 "I remember you telling me," I said. "But I thought you didn't believe in their curse.""No, I like to think it was all nonsense, but it still shook me up. Luckily the covens fell out soon after, before they could inflict more damage on the County. But this time there's something a little more sinister about what's happening in Pendle, and that's what I need my visitor to confirm. We need to prepare ourselves mentally and physically for what could be a terrible battle--and then we need to get to Pendle before it's too late."Well, lad," the Spook finished, shielding his eyes and glancing toward the sun, "this lesson's gone on long enough, so it's back to the house with you. You can spend the rest of the morning studying."I passed the remainder of the morning alone in the Spook's library. He still didn't trust Alice fully, and she wasn't allowed in the library in case she read something she 'wasn't supposed to. Now that there were three of us living in the house, my master had finally opened up another of the downstairs rooms, and it was currently used as a study. Alice was working there now, earning her keep by copying one of the Spook's books. Some of them were rare and he was always afraid that something might happen to them, so he liked to have a copy just in case.I was studying covens --how a group of thirteen witches came together for their rituals. I was reading a passage that described what happened when witches held special feasts, -which were called sabbaths.