The Spook's Battle (7 page)

 Suddenly, to my astonishment, her mouth opened wide and her tongue flicked out, caught the moth, and drew it in. Then, for the first time, her face became animated. She gave a broad smile, her mouth curving from ear to ear. Then she chewed quickly and swallowed down the moth with a big gulp."Was that good?" her sister Beth inquired, peering sideways at her.Jennet nodded. "Really juicy. Don't worry--you can have the next one.""Don't mind if I do," said Beth. "But what if another don't come?""In that case we'll play a game, and I'll let you choose what it is," Jennet offered."Let's play Pin Spitting. I like that game.""That's because you always win. You know I can only spit pins on Friday. Wednesday today, it is. I only do feathers on Wednesdays, so it'll have to be something else.""What about Through a Hedge Backward?" suggested Beth."Good game, that," said Jennet. "First to the bottom wins!To my astonishment, they both fell back from their tree stumps and did reverse rolls, spinning faster and faster until they disappeared into the bushes and brambles behind. For a few moments you could hear them crashing downward with a great snapping and cracking of twigs, punctuated by shrieks of pain and bursts of hysterical laughter. Then there was silence, and somewhere close by I heard the cry of an owl. I looked up into the branches but could see no sign of it."Love that game, my sisters do!" Mab said with a smile. "But they'll be licking their wounds tonight, just as sure as eggs rot!"

 A few moments later the twins climbed back up the path. When they sat down opposite me again, I didn't know whether to laugh at the state of them or feel really sorry for the pain and discomfort they must be going through. Their threadbare dresses were torn --Jennet's left sleeve had been ripped off completely--and they were covered in cuts and scratches. Beth had a piece of bramble tangled up in her hair and there was a thin line of blood trickling down from her nose to her upper lip. But she didn't seem at all dismayed."I really enjoyed that! Let's play another game," she suggested, licking away the blood. "What about Truth or Dare? I like that, too.""Fine with me. But make the boy go first," Jennet said, squinting toward me."Truth, dare, kiss, or promise?" Beth demanded, staring right at me, a challenge in her voice. All three girls were watching me now, and none of them were blinking."I don't want to play," I said firmly."Be nice to my younger sisters," Mab insisted. "Go on, choose. It's only a game."

 "I don't know the rules," I said. It was true. I'd never heard of the game. It sounded like a game that girls would play, and I hadn't had any sisters. I didn't know much about girls' games."It's easy," said Mab from my left. "You just choose one of the four. Choose truth and you have to answer a question truthfully. Choose dare and you're set a task. Pick kiss and you have to kiss who or what you're told to --there's no getting away from it. Promise is hardest of all. Have to make one, and bound by it, you are --maybe bound forever!""No! I don't want to play," I repeated."Don't be silly. Don't have any choice, do you? Can't leave this spot until we say so. You're rooted to it --hadn't you noticed?"I'd been growing more and more annoyed. It seemed to me now that Mab had been playing some sort of game with me from the moment we'd first met at the graveyard. I didn't believe for one moment that we were going to rescue Alice. What a fool I'd been! Why had I followed her here?When I tried to stand, though, nothing happened. It was as if all the strength had left my body. My arms fell uselessly to my sides and my rowan staff slipped from my grasp onto the grass and rolled away.

  "You're better off without that nasty stick," Mab said. "You go first--It's time to choose one of the four. You'll play our game whether you want to or not. You'll play, and you'll like it. So choose!"By now I had no doubt at all that the three of them were witches. My staff was out of reach and I felt too weak to stand up. I wasn't afraid because somehow it seemed more like dreaming than waking, but I knew that I wasn't asleep and that I was in danger. So I took a slow, deep breath and thought carefully. Better to humor them for a bit. While they were concentrating on the game, I might find a way to get free.But which one of the four options should I choose? Dare could lead to some type of dangerous task that I might be forced to carry out. Promise was full of risk. I'd made promises before that had gotten me into trouble. Kiss seemed harmless. How could a kiss hurt you? But then I remembered that she'd said "who or what," and I didn't like the sound of that at all.

  Even so, I almost chose that option, but then I decided on truth instead. I always tried to be honest and truthful. It was something that my dad had taught me. What harm could come from choosing that?"Truth," I said.At my answer the girls all smiled broadly, as if it was exactly the option they'd wanted me to pick."Right!" said Mab triumphantly, turning to face me. "Tell me this and be truthful. And you'd better, if you know what's good for you. Wouldn't do to cross us! Which one of us do you like best?"I looked at Mab in astonishment. I'd had no idea what kind of question I'd be asked, but this was like a bolt from the blue. And it wasn't easy to answer. Whichever one I picked, the other two would be offended. And I wasn't even sure what the truth was. All three girls were scary and almost certainly witches. I didn't like any of them. So what else could I do? I told them the truth."I don't like any of you that much," I said. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's the truth you wanted and it's the plain truth I've given you."

 All three let out a simultaneous hiss of anger. "That's not good enough," Mab said, her voice low and dangerous. "You have to choose one of us.""Then it's you, Mab. You were the one I saw first. So it might as well be you."I'd spoken instinctively, -without thinking, but Mab smiled. It was a self-satisfied smile, as if she'd known she was going to be chosen all along.'It's my turn now," said Mab, turning away from me to face her sisters. "I'll take kiss!""Then kiss Tom!" Jennet exclaimed. "Kiss him now and make him yours forever!"At that, Mab stood up and walked across to face me directly. She leaned down and put a hand on each of my shoulders.

 "Look up at me!" she commanded.I felt weak. All my willpower seemed to have deserted me. I did as I was told: I looked up into her green eyes, and her face came closer to mine. Her face was pretty, but her breath stank like that of a dog or a cat. The world started to spin and, but for the firm grip of Mab's hands on my shoulders, I would have fallen backward off the stump.Then, just as her warm lips pressed softly against mine, I felt a succession of searing pains in my left forearm. It was as if someone had stabbed it four times with a long, sharp pin.In agony, I lurched to my feet and, with a gasp, Mab fell away from me, onto the grass. I looked at my forearm. There were four scars on it, vivid in the moonlight, and I remembered what had caused them. Alice had once gripped my left forearm so hard that her fingernails had gone deep into my flesh. When she'd released me, there were four bright red beads of blood where her nails had cut me.Days later, on our way to her aunt's place in Staumin, Alice had touched the scars on my arm. And I remembered exactly what she'd said.Put my brand on you there . . . That won't ever fade away.I hadn't been sure what she meant, and she had never really explained herself.

  Then again, in Priestown, we'd quarreled and I was about to go my own way when Alice had shouted out: You're mine. You belong to me!At the time I hadn't really thought that much about it. Now I began to wonder if there was more to it than I'd realized: Alice and the three girls seemed to believe that a witch could somehow make you hers for life. Whatever the truth of it, I had broken free of Mab's power, and somehow it was due to Alice.As Mab struggled angrily to her feet, I showed her the scars on my arm."I can't be yours forever, Mab," I told her, the words flying into my mouth as if by magic. "I already belong to someone else. I belong to Alice!"No sooner had I spoken than Beth and Jennet both fell gracefully off their tree stumps and rolled backward down the hill again. Once more I could hear them crashing through the bushes and brambles all the way to the bottom of the slope, but this time they neither shrieked nor laughed.

 When I looked at Mab, her eyes were blazing with anger.Quickly I reached down and snatched up my rowan staff, ready to strike her if need be. Mab looked at the raised staff, flinched and took two swift steps back."You will belong to me one day," she said, her lips tightening into a snarl. "Just as sure as my name's Mab Mouldheel! And it'll happen much sooner than you think. I want you, Thomas Ward, and you'll be mine for sure when Alice is dead!"With that she turned away, picked up both lanterns, and walked back down the slope into the trees by a different path from the one we'd used to ascend.I was shaking all over in reaction to her words. I'd been talking to three witches from the Mouldheel clan. Mab had certainly known where to find me--Alice must have told her. So where wad Alice? I felt sure Mab and her sisters must know.One part of me wanted to head north back to Downham and tell the Spook what had happened. But I hadn't liked the way Mab had snarled as she'd issued her threat. Alice was surely their prisoner, in their power. They might kill her as soon as they got back. So I had no choice. I had to follow the sisters.I'd noted the direction that Mab had taken. She'd gone south. Now I had to follow her and her sisters down the more dangerous eastern side of the hill; follow them toward the three villages that made up the three points of what Father Stocks had called the Devil's Triangle.

The Cellar of Mirrors

I
was a seventh son of a seventh son, so a witch couldn't sniff me out at a distance. That meant I could follow the three sisters safely as loner as I didn't get too close. I would also have to watch out for other, even moredangerous members of the Mouldheelfamily.At first it was easy. I could see the glow of the lanterns and hear the three girls moving through the wood ahead of me. They were making quite a lot of noise: voices were raised and they seemed to be arguing. At one point, despite all my care, I stepped on a twig. It broke with a loud crack and I froze to the spot, afraid that they might have heard me. I needn't have worried. They were making their own even louder noises ahead, and were completely unaware that I was following.When we left the wood, it became more difficult. We were in the open, on a bleak slope of moorland. The moonlight increased the risk that I would be seen, so I had to stay much farther back, but soon I realized I had another advantage. The three girls came to a stream and followed its banks as it changed direction, before it curved back in a bow shape and allowed them to continue on their way south. That confirmed for me that they were indeed witches.

 They couldn't cross running water!But I could! So instead of always folio-wing behind, I could take a more direct route and, to some extent, anticipate where they were going. As they dropped down off the moor, I began to travel parallel with them, keeping to the shadows of hedgerows and trees whenever possible. This went on for some time, but the terrain gradually became rougher and more difficult, and then I saw another dark wood ahead, a thick clump of trees and bushes in a valley that ran parallel to Pendle Hill on my right.At first I thought it would be no problem. I simply slowed down and allowed them to get ahead again, folio-wing at a safe distance as before. It -was only after I'd moved into the trees that I realized that something -was now very different. The three sisters -were no longer talking loudly as they had been in the previous -wood. In fact they -weren't making any noise at all. An eerie silence prevailed, as if everything was holding its breath. There hadn't been more than a slight breeze before, but now not even a twig or a leaf was moving. Nor -were there any of the rustling noises made by small creatures of the night, such as mice or hedgehogs. Either everything in the wood really was immobile, holding its breath, or the wood was empty of all life.It was then, with a sudden shiver of horror, that I realized exactly where I was and why things were as they -were. This was a small wooded valley. And another name for a small wooded valley is a dell.I was "walking through what Father Stocks had called Witch Dell!

  This was where all the dead -witches gathered to prey on those who passed through or even skirted the wood. Lives were lost here every year. I gripped my rowan staff and kept perfectly still, listening carefully. Nothing seemed to be approaching, but there -was soft loam under my feet, and decades of dank autumns had provided perfect hiding places for dead witches. One could already be close by, hidden under the leaves. Step forward and she would grab my ankle! One quick bite and she'd start sucking my blood, growing stronger by the mouthful.I could use my rowan staff and probably manage to get myself free--that's what I told myself. I'd have to be quick. As the witch waxed stronger, my own strength would be waning. And what if I met one of the really strong witches? Father Stocks said there were two or three who roamed far beyond the dell in search of victims. I put this thought firmly from my mind.I began to move forward slowly and cautiously. As I did so, I wondered why the three sisters had now become so silent. Could it be that they were also worried about attracting the dead? Why should that be? Weren't they all witches together?

 And then I remembered what Father Stocks had said about the ancient animosity between the three covens. Although there'd been some intermarriage between the Deanes and the Malkins, the clans only ever gathered together when they had to combine their dark power. Maybe the Mouldheel sisters were afraid of meeting a dead witch from a rival family.It was a tense, scary time; I risked being attacked at any moment. But at last, with a sigh of relief, I reached the far edge of the dell. I was very glad to be out from the shadow of those trees. Once more I was bathed in moonlight,watching the bobbing lanterns ahead of me and hearing the sisters' voices raised as if in anger. After ten minutes or so, they were descending a steep slope and I could see the glow from a fire lighting up the sky ahead. I hung back for a while, then took refuge in a copse of ash and alder. It was ready for thinning and cutting and so provided a good hiding place.