The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles) (6 page)

BOOK: The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles)
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‘Has Zenobia spoken to you?’ she asked, her voice harsher than before. I had to concentrate hard to understand what she was saying.

‘Yes, but I don’t like what I’ve been asked to do.’

‘Ah! You mean the sacrifice. She said that it would be hard for you, but that you were a dutiful son and had the strength to do what was necessary.’

‘Strength and duty – they’re just words!’ I said bitterly. ‘Mam couldn’t do it; why should I?’

I stared at Slake, trying to control my anger. Had the lamia and her sister had their way, Dad would have died in Greece, and my brothers and I would never have been born.

‘Calm yourself,’ she said. ‘You need time to think – time to meditate upon that which must be done. And you cannot deal with the Fiend unless the third sacred object is in your possession. To find that must be your priority.’

‘That artefact lies in the dark – and, moreover, under the very throne of the Fiend,’ I responded, full of rage now. ‘How am I supposed to lay my hands on that?’

‘It is not you who must do it. We have another use for the girl. Alice has spent time in the dark already. Not only will she find it relatively easy to return there, she will be familiar with the Fiend’s domain. And so long as his head remains separated from his body, the danger will be much reduced.’

‘No!’ I shouted. ‘I can’t ask her to do that. After her first visit she almost lost her mind.’

‘The second one will be easier,’ insisted Slake. ‘She will gradually become immune to the adverse effects.’

‘But at what cost?’ I retorted. ‘By becoming closer and closer to the dark until she belongs to it entirely?’

The lamia did not reply. Instead she reached into the trunk and handed me a piece of paper. ‘Read this first,’ she said. ‘It is written in my hand but was dictated to me by your mother.’

I accepted the paper, and with shaking hands began to
read:

 
 

Mam then went on to repeat what I already knew – how she’d been bound to a rock with a silver chain and rescued by a sailor. That sailor had been Dad, of course – he’d told me the story not long before he died. I knew the rest of it too – how Dad had been given shelter in her house. But her next words chilled me to the bone.

 
 

I felt a pain in my heart at those words. I thought Mam and Dad had loved each other from the beginning. Dad had made it sound that way, anyway. It was what he’d believed. I had to force myself to keep on
reading.

 
 

Thinking of poor Dad, I stifled a sob. There was no mention of love here. All Mam seemed to care about was destroying the Fiend. Dad was just a means to achieving that end. Maybe that’s all I was too?

 
 

I glanced up from the sheet of paper and glared at Slake, who extended her claws in anger at my reaction. This was one of the two lamias who had argued that Dad should be killed! I continued
reading
.

 
 

The end of the letter made me feel a little better. At least Mam was saying now that she’d loved Dad. She’d gradually changed
and
become more human. I gave a sudden shiver, realizing that now the opposite was true: she was leaving her humanity behind and had evolved into something very different to the mother I remembered. What she was asking was unthinkable.

‘Mam said she held
two
sacred objects,’ I told Slake. ‘Why is the second one of those now in the dark?’

‘Do you think it was easy to hobble the Fiend?’ she hissed, once more extending her talons. She opened her mouth very wide, showing me her teeth, and saliva began to drip from her jaws. For a moment I thought she intended to attack me, but then she slowly let out her breath and continued to speak.

‘There was a great struggle despite Zenobia’s magic. The Fiend snatched up one of the objects as he was hurled back into the dark. These are Zenobia’s instructions for the ritual  . . .  Read them now!’ she commanded, handing me a second piece of paper.

I took it, folding it and putting it in my pocket. ‘I’ll read it tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I’ve already learned too many things that aren’t to my taste.’

Slake growled deep in her throat, but I turned my back on her and went up the steps to the battlements. I didn’t want to see Alice yet. I had to think things through first.

 

I PACED THE
battlements of Malkin Tower, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, like someone demented. As I walked, my mind twisted this way and that, trapped in a labyrinth; no matter which avenue of escape I explored, I always returned to the two questions that tormented me.

Should I tell Alice that she had to go into the dark again? And after that, was I prepared to make such a sacrifice? Could I really take Alice’s life?

The night passed slowly as I agonized over what I should do. Finally I leaned on the parapet, staring west over the trees of Crow Wood. Gradually the sky began to lighten, until the massive bulk of Pendle Hill was visible. There, in that pale
dawn
light, I began to read the letter outlining the ritual by which the Fiend could finally be destroyed.

 
 

That was a strange coincidence. I was to attempt to destroy the Fiend on a hill that bore my own name! I shivered as if someone had walked over my grave – then continued to
read
.

 
 

The full implications of what was being asked suddenly became clear in my mind. Alice was being asked to retrieve the blade Dolorous – which would then be used in the disgusting ceremony to cut out her heart. She was being asked to venture into the dark to seize the very weapon that would slay her!

It was appalling. I shuddered at the thought of carrying out such a task.

Then I heard someone climbing the steps towards me. I recognized the click of Alice’s pointy shoes and hastily stuffed the letter into my breeches pocket. Seconds later she emerged onto the battlements behind me.

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