The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles) (7 page)

‘Did you see your mam?’ she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder. ‘How did it go? You seem upset. I can feel you trembling.’

‘I am upset,’ I admitted. ‘She’s changed terribly. She doesn’t seem at all like the mam I remember.’

‘Oh, Tom!’ Alice cried. ‘Everybody changes. If you were to step into the head of your future self years from now, you’d no doubt be appalled by how different you were and how much your thoughts and feelings had altered. We’re changing all the time, but it’s so gradual we don’t notice it happening. And for
lamias
it’s much more rapid and marked. Your mam can’t help it, Tom. It’s in her nature – but she still loves you.’

‘Does she?’ I said, turning to face her.

She stared at me. ‘What is it, Tom? There’s something wrong, isn’t there? Something you haven’t told me.’

I gazed into Alice’s eyes and made a decision. I would tell her
part
of what I knew – that she was being asked to go into the dark again. But there was no way I could tell her that she would have to be sacrificed to finally defeat the Fiend. That was impossible. The ritual was horrible, and I knew I was incapable of carrying out such an act on my worst enemy, let alone my best friend.

So there on the battlements, in the grey light of dawn, with the raucous cries of crows in the background, I gave her half a tale.

‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you, Alice,’ I said. ‘It’s terrible but you have to know. There are three sacred objects needed to bind the Fiend for all time. I already have the first two – my sword and a dagger called Bone Cutter. But the third of the hero swords is also a dagger and it’s hidden in the dark under the Fiend’s throne. They want
you
to go into the dark and get it, Alice – but I said I wouldn’t let you.’

For a moment Alice was quiet, all the while staring intently into my eyes. ‘What do you know about the ritual itself, Tom? What has to be done?’

‘I’ll be told that later – once we have the three objects,’ I lied.

After I’d finished we were both silent for a long time. I stared up at the sky, watching the small clouds race eastwards, their
edges
tinged with red and pink from the rising sun. Then suddenly Alice rushed into my arms and we hugged each other tightly. As we did so, I knew that I could never sacrifice her; there
had
to be another way.

When we finally broke apart, Alice looked up at me. ‘If it’s the only way, then I’ll go into the dark and get what we need,’ she said.

‘No, Alice! Don’t even think of it. There must be something else we can do!’

‘But what if there isn’t, Tom? Grimalkin can’t keep the Fiend’s head out of the hands of our enemies for ever. They’ll never give up. Everywhere we go is dangerous because they’re always at our heels. They waited for us here, didn’t they? And eventually the Fiend will return with all his power. We’ll be snatched away into the dark for an eternity of torment. At least this way only one of us has to go. I have to venture into the dark whatever the cost. And I’ll be coming back. Ain’t going to stay there for ever, am I?’

‘No, you can’t go into the dark,’ I insisted. ‘I won’t let you.’

‘It’s my decision, Tom, not yours. There’s still more than five months till Halloween, but the sooner I get that dagger, the better.’

‘You can’t go back there, Alice!’ I cried. ‘Remember what it did to you last time.’

‘That was different, Tom. I was snatched away by the Fiend. Well, he ain’t there now, and the dark is weakened because of it. And I’ve a lot of power of my own. I can look after myself, don’t you worry!’

I didn’t reply. Even if Alice succeeded, she would only have moved things nearer to the point where she was supposed to die. Mam’s second letter was in my pocket, and there it would stay.

We stayed in the tower for the remainder of the daylight hours, planning to leave after dark, when it would be easier to slip away unseen.

While Alice went down into the tunnel to pay another visit to Agnes, I had a short conversation with Slake. In her presence I read through the remainder of Mam’s letter and was able to question her about things that were unclear. The more I learned, the worse it got. By the end of our discussion I was close to despair.

At last it was time to leave. While Alice waited for me, I turned to the lamia. ‘I may never return here,’ I told her. ‘You are free to go.’

‘It is not for you to dismiss me,’ Slake hissed. ‘I will stay here until after Halloween. Then, when the Fiend has been dealt with, I will burn the trunks and leave to seek out others of my kind.’

‘And if he is not dealt with?’

‘Then it will go badly for all of us. If you fail, the consequences do not bear thinking about. You
must
do what is required.’

‘It is not for you to tell me what to do!’ I retorted. ‘I make my own decisions. However, you have my gratitude. If ever you need my help, call me and I will stand at your side.’

As we left the lamia, Alice stared at me in astonishment. I knew why: those final words had flown out of my mouth without thought, but I realized that I meant every word. That night on Pendle Hill, when the Fiend had been summoned by the covens, Slake and her sister had fought to save us. We would have died there but for their intervention. Here, guarding the tower, Wynde had been lost. And although it was difficult to accept, she was distant kin – a descendant of Mam’s – so I owed her no less than what had been promised.

‘Do you know what I think, Tom?’ Alice said as we began to descend the steps. ‘You talked about your mam having changed, but you’ve changed too. You made that promise to Slake without any thought of what Old Gregory might say. You’re more of a spook than he is now.’

I made no reply. It saddened me to think of my master in decline, but I knew that Alice was right. As he had told me the previous day, I needed to act and think like the spook that I would become. We were heading into an uncertain future, but things were approaching a climax. Soon, for good or ill, it would be over.

Agnes was waiting for us near the exit of the tunnel. There were flies buzzing about her head and dried streaks of blood around her mouth. She smelled of loam and things that slithered underground.

‘We’re going back to Chipenden,’ Alice told the dead witch. ‘I’ll come back and see you when I can.’

Agnes nodded, and a grey maggot fell out of her hair and writhed at her feet. ‘Come and see me in the dell when your
need
is great. You too, Thomas Ward. You also have a friend amongst the dead.’

Alice gave the witch an affectionate pat on the shoulder and we crept along the tunnel cautiously, emerging through the sepulchre to stand amongst the thickets that covered the graveyard.

Alice sniffed three times. ‘There are half a dozen witches here but they’re all dead. Agnes has been busy!’

So we hurried north, then west, skirting the edge of Pendle to head directly for Chipenden. Agnes was our ally and friend, but I noticed that Alice had not bothered to tell her about her journey into the dark. Dead witches changed, moving away from human concerns, and Agnes was no longer someone Alice could confide in.

AS WE CROSSED
the Spook’s garden, the dogs raced towards us, barking excitedly, and I had to spend a few minutes patting them and being licked in return. I thought the disturbance would have brought my master out to greet us, but there was no sign of him. Was there something wrong? I wondered. Had he gone off on spook’s business?

But then I saw the smoke rising from the kitchen chimney and was reassured. When I led the way inside, I saw a stranger sitting by the fire talking to John Gregory. Both men rose to their feet and turned to face me.

‘This is Tom Ward, my apprentice,’ said the Spook. ‘And that’s the girl, Alice, who I’ve been telling you about. And this
is
Judd Brinscall, lad, one of my ex-apprentices. He’s come all the way from Todmorden to escort us back there.’

‘Mistress Fresque is a friend of mine, Tom,’ Judd said with a smile. ‘She’s a Romanian, but now lives in Todmorden, and she sent me to find out what’s delayed your master’s visit to her library.’ Judd Brinscall was shorter than my master and slight of build. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, but his face was lined and weather-beaten, suggesting that he had spent most of his life outdoors. His blond hair was starting to recede, but his eyebrows were black, making a strange contrast. He wore the hood and gown of a spook, but unlike ours, his was green with streaks of brown and yellow.

I remembered his name because it was amongst the most prominent ones scratched upon my bedroom wall here at Chipenden – the room used by all the boys my master had trained.

‘You’re staring at my gown,’ he said with a faint smile. ‘Once I wore one almost identical to yours, Tom. But there’s a reason for it. When I’d finished my time here with Mr Gregory, he offered to let me work with him for a couple more years to develop my skills as a spook further. That would have been the sensible thing to do, but I’d endured five long years learning my trade in the County and I had the wanderlust. I needed to visit new places while I was still young – particularly Romania, the land my mother’s family come from.

‘I travelled far, crossed the sea and eventually ended up there. I spent two years studying under one of the local spooks in the province of Transylvania and substituted this gown for
my
own. It provides necessary camouflage when journeying through the forest.’

‘Well, lad,’ interrupted the Spook, turning to me, his face filled with concern. ‘How did things go at Malkin Tower? Sit yourself down and tell me all about it.’

So, while Alice remained standing, I took my place at the table and began my tale. At first I was hesitant, feeling a little uncomfortable about revealing so much in front of a stranger.

My master must have noticed my disquiet. ‘Spit it out, lad! You needn’t clam up in front of Judd here. We go back a long way.’

So I told my master part of what I had learned – though nothing of the ritual itself, which he would not have countenanced. I told the same lie I’d given Alice – pretended that the next course of action would be revealed only when all three hero swords were in my possession. And, of course, I did not reveal the worst thing of all – that I must sacrifice Alice to achieve our aims.

It saddened me to lie by omission in that way, but perhaps not as much as it might once have done. I was becoming harder, and I knew that what I did was for the best. A great burden of responsibility was being thrust upon my shoulders and I had to learn to bear it alone.

When I’d finished, both spooks stared hard at Alice. ‘Well, girl?’ asked my master. ‘It’s asking a lot, but are you prepared to attempt what’s required? Will you go back into the dark?’

‘There’s got to be another way!’ I said angrily. ‘We can’t ask Alice to do this.’

Neither spook said a word; both cast their eyes down and stared at the table. Their silence said everything. I felt bitter. Alice was nothing to them. Judd Brinscall had only just met her, and my master had never learned to trust her, despite what she’d been through with us; despite all those times she’d saved our lives.

‘I’ll do what’s necessary,’ Alice said in a quiet voice, ‘but I want to be sure that it’s the only way. I need time to think. And I need to talk to Grimalkin. She ain’t that far away, so I’ll go and find her. I shouldn’t be away more than a few days.’

The next morning Alice headed north to find the witch assassin. I gave her a hug at the edge of the garden.

‘Whatever you decide, Alice, don’t go off into the dark until we’ve spoken again. Do you promise?’

‘I promise, Tom. Wouldn’t go without saying goodbye, would I?’

I watched her walk off into the distance, my throat constricting with emotion.

Within the hour, after leaving the three dogs in the care of the village blacksmith, my master, Judd Brinscall and I had departed too. Although he’d cried off from the journey to Pendle, the Spook seemed happy enough to head for Todmorden. His knees were feeling better and his stride showed its usual energy. As we walked, the three of us talked.

‘Do you know what I miss about the old house?’ Judd said.

‘For me, it’s the roof and the library,’ the Spook joked, ‘and it gladdens my heart to see that both are being attended to!’

‘Well, I miss the boggart!’ exclaimed Judd. ‘It might have burned the bacon occasionally, but it always did the washing-up and kept the garden safe from intruders. It scared me at first but eventually I grew quite fond of it.’