The Spook's Sacrifice (9 page)

She nodded. 'Yes, it's my house – I wanted you to
see it, but I really brought you here so that we could be
alone together without any chance of being disturbed.
You see, there's something else you need to know, son,'
she continued. 'We might not get a chance to talk alone
again . . . This is very hard for me . . . but I need to tell
you what I am.'

'What you are, Mam?' I said, my heart hammering
in my chest. I'd waited a long time to find this out, but
now, with the truth finally about to be revealed, I was
scared.

Mam took a deep breath and it was a long time
before she spoke. 'I'm not human, Tom. I never
was—'

'It doesn't matter, Mam. I
know
what you are. I
worked it out ages ago. You're a lamia witch, like your
sisters. One of the vaengir; those who fly. But you've
been "domestic" for a long time. And you're
benign . . .'

'Well, I suppose I expected you to put two and two
together and come up with that, but unfortunately
you're mistaken. I only wish you were right—'

'Then you must be a hybrid,' I interrupted.

'No, Tom, I'm not a hybrid. What I am is far worse
than anything you can possibly have imagined—'

Mam halted and turned to face me, her eyes
glistening with tears. My heart pounded even faster. I
couldn't imagine what she was going to say. Whatever
it was, it had to be bad.

'You see, son,' she continued, 'I am
Lamia
. The very
first . . .'

I caught my breath, my head spinning. I'd heard her
words but they didn't make any sense. 'What do you
mean, Mam? I know you're a lamia. You're domestic
and benign—'

'Listen carefully to what I'm saying, son. I am
the
Lamia. The mother of them all . . .'

My chest began to hurt as what Mam had just told
me began to sink in. 'No, Mam! No! That can't be true!'
I exclaimed, remembering what had been written in
the Spook's Bestiary. That Lamia's first children had
been killed by the goddess Hera and that her revenge
had been terrible. She'd killed children. Then young
men. Taken lives beyond counting.

'I can tell by your face that you know what I've
done. You know my crimes, don't you? All I can
say in mitigation is that I was driven mad by the
loss of my own children. I murdered innocents,
and for that I can never forgive myself. But I turned
to the light at last and have spent my long life
trying to compensate in some way for what I did.'

'But you can't be Lamia, Mam! It says in the Spook's
Bestiary that she was killed by three of her own
children, the first lamia witches. They tore her to pieces
and fed her to a herd of wild boar. So you can't be her.
She's dead.'

'Don't believe everything you read in books, son,'
Mam said. 'Much history is passed down by word of
mouth and only written up many years later, when the
truth has been distorted and embellished. It's certainly
true that I later gave birth to triplets, the first lamia
witches. It is also true that we quarrelled. But we never
fought physically. Although their words cut me to the
quick, they never raised a finger against me. It pained
me, but our family couldn't stay together. They are
dead now, but their feral children live on to infest the
land of Greece and make its mountain passes more
dangerous than anywhere else on earth. That is the
truth.'

A thought struck me. 'But you have feral lamia
sisters, Mam. And Lamia didn't have sisters. She was
the first. The very first lamia. As you said, the mother
of them all—'

'I call them
sisters
, Tom, and that's what they are to
me because we were companions and joint enemies of
the Ordeen and the Fiend for many years, long before
I journeyed to the County with your dad. But they are
really my descendants; children of my children's
children many times removed. In spirit, though, they
are my sisters. That's how I see them.'

I couldn't think straight; didn't know what to say.
Suddenly the tears were streaming down my cheeks.
Embarrassed, I tried to brush them away. Mam leaned
across and put her arm around my shoulders.

'It happened a long time ago, son. Anyone who lives
that long is no longer the same being. You evolve and
change. Become someone else. That's a truth well
worth knowing, for it is exactly what has happened to
me. I've little in common with the Lamia who slew so
many; I have now served the light for many years. I
married your father so that I could bear him seven
sons. I bore you as my gift to the County. More than
that – my gift to the world. For it is in you to destroy
the Fiend and begin a new age of light. When you
do that, my penance will be completed. I will have
made full restitution for my terrible crimes.

'I know this is really hard for you to take in, but try
to be brave and remember that you're more than just a
weapon to use against the dark. You're my son and I
love you, Tom. Believe that, whatever happens.'

I couldn't think of anything to say and we walked
back into the house in silence. Mam locked the door
and we strode out towards the wagon. She paused
briefly and looked back.

'I won't come here again,' she said sadly. 'The
memories of your dad are so sharp that it's like being
bereaved for a second time.'

During the ride back to the ship, I tried to digest
what Mam had said. I had been told a terrible truth.
One that was almost impossible to bear.

When I climbed out of my hammock at dawn,
there were five more wagons waiting on the
quay. Alice was down there on the edge of a group of
Pendle witches – those from the Deane clan. She
looked lost and unhappy, but when I walked down the
gangplank her face brightened and she hastened
towards me.

'What's up, Tom?' she asked. 'Where did you go
with your mam yesterday? Had bad news? You don't
look happy at all . . .'

'Then that's two of us that look unhappy,' I told her.

Without another word we began to walk away from
the boat and out of earshot of the others. Alice stood
and waited expectantly, but I couldn't bring myself to
tell her who Mam was. It was bad enough knowing it
myself. I felt hurt and ashamed of what she'd once
been.

'Mam took me to the house she once shared with
Dad,' I told Alice. 'That's all.'

'But what did she tell you, Tom? Must have said
something to make you look so low!'

'It was sad – that's all. Going back there made her
feel like she'd lost Dad all over again. But she wanted
me to see it.'

Alice wasn't entirely satisfied with my answer, and
as we walked back towards the
Celeste
, I saw Mab
Mouldheel staring at us. She could tell that neither of
us was happy and she had a big smirk on her face.

It took an hour to load our provisions, and by then the
sun was climbing high into the sky. The witches finally
disembarked; a few of them managed to find space
enough to ride in a wagon, but the majority walked.
We set off eastwards: Mam's wagon, surrounded on all
sides by her escort, led the way. Next came the supply
wagons, and then the witches, led by Grimalkin, Alice
at her side.

I walked behind with Bill Arkwright and the Spook.
Whereas I'd put my bag in Mam's wagon, John
Gregory was still carrying his, despite the heat. I
wondered again what Mam had written to make him
join us so late, leaping onto the boat at the very last
moment. What exactly had changed his mind? Did he
know the truth about who she was? No, I felt sure that
if he'd known my true parentage, he would have had
nothing more to do with me. I'd be banished for ever
just like Alice.

We travelled all day under the fierce heat of the sun,
following the Kalamos river valley towards the town
of Yiannena. My spirits were really low. I couldn't stop
thinking about Mam's true identity. No one was
talkative though. The sun was intense and it took all
our strength to keep up with the wagons.

We passed through villages with white-painted
stone houses and groves of olive trees, and attracted a
few curious stares. I wondered if there were spies out
there, reporting our progress to the maenads. We were
here to do battle with the Ordeen and were therefore
their enemies – at some point they were certain to
attack. And as our party and the maenads were both
heading towards the Ord, it seemed inevitable that our
paths would cross at some point.

I was used to the lazy summer drone of insects back
home, but here they were everywhere. There were
swarms of flying things that got inside my hood and
bit me.

'Does it ever rain here?' I asked, looking up at the
blue sky and scorching sun.

'It rains a lot in winter, I believe,' Arkwright replied,
'and it can get cold too. Your mam says it's a totally
different place in spring, with carpets of wild flowers.'

'I'd like to see it then,' I remarked. 'Who knows?
Once we've sorted things out we may be able to come
again one day. I'd love to see more of Mam's country.
But what's that whirring noise?' It was in the background
all the time and was starting to annoy me.

'Cicadas – a sort of grasshopper,' Arkwright
explained. 'Noisy blighters, aren't they? It's the bigger
creatures we need to watch out for though, Master
Ward – like wild boar. Tasty to eat but painful if you
get in the way of their tusks! And then there are wolves
and even bears.'

'Aye, it's a different land to our own,' said the
Spook. 'Greece is far wilder and more dangerous. And
that's before we consider the power of the dark. In
addition to the maenads, there are lamia witches up
in the mountains – lots of 'em – not to mention the
Ordeen herself, and the host of fire elementals that will
come through the portal with her.'

His words made us fall silent, each locked in our
own thoughts. Great danger lay ahead and it had to be
dealt with before we could return to the County. I
wondered if we'd ever see its green shores again.

We halted a couple of hours before sunset after
passing through the village of Kreatopolio, which
means
butcher
. It did have numerous butchers' shops,
with the carcasses of lambs hanging outside, and we
took the opportunity to buy fresh meat. Mam's friends
erected three tents – the largest for her; a guard kept
watch outside all night. Some of the witches used the
other tents, but most of us slept under the stars. I was
tired and fell asleep the moment I closed my eyes.

Although we needed to reach our destination as
soon as possible, Mam had decided that we should rest
here for a day before heading on. She feared the
maenads. Scouts would go out the following morning
to see if there was any immediate danger.

We rose early and ate just before the sun came up.
Breakfast was simple – just some white goat's cheese
called
feta
and a couple of slices of bread without
butter.

'I could murder a plate of bacon and eggs!' I
complained to Arkwright.

'So could I, Master Ward,' he replied, 'but I believe
some of the lads not needed for scouting are off hunting
wild boar this morning. So perhaps we'll eat better later.
If not, there's always the lamb we bought yesterday.'

After breakfast the Spook, Arkwright and I walked a
little way from the camp and found a clump of olive
trees under which to shelter from the fierce morning
sun. But the Spook seemed agitated and couldn't keep
still. He soon got to his feet.

'We're not being told enough!' he complained. 'I'm
going to talk to your mam, lad!'

He was away about an hour. When he returned, his
expression was grim.

'Well?' Bill Arkwright asked. 'Did you get any
answers?'

The Spook laid down his staff and hunkered down
between us in the shade of an olive tree. He took a long
time to reply.

'It seems that once the Ordeen arrives through
the portal, a delegation from the local area enters the
citadel of the Ord,' said the Spook. 'It's a ritual that
never changes. The delegates hope to appease her
and mitigate the effects of her visitation. But the
truth is, nothing they do ever makes any real
difference.'

'Then why do they bother?' I asked. 'What's the
point of it if they achieve nothing?'

'It's because they're human, lad. Human beings have
hope. No matter how desperate things are, they
convince themselves that they can change things for the
better; that this time their visit will alter the outcome.

'The Ordeen needs human blood to wake her from
her deep sleep on the far side of the portal. Few of the
delegates return, and those who do rant and rave in a
delirium. The horror of the experience deranges their
minds. Kalambaka is planning to send a delegation of
thirteen people – the usual number – but your mam
has other ideas. Thirteen of
us
will be going in their
place.'

Arkwright whistled through his teeth. 'Did she say
which of us?'

The Spook stared hard at me. 'She just named one so
far, lad. You. You'll be part of that delegation.'

The thought scared me but I tried not to show it. I
hoped the Spook, Arkwright or Mam would be with
me. Then at least I wouldn't be alone.

'No doubt it's some sort of trick. A way to get inside
and take the enemy by surprise?' Arkwright asked.

'Aye, that's the idea. She's not thought it through
yet, but she's hoping to create some sort of diversion.
The main attack would be launched while the
delegation pretends to go about its business. She's
going to hire mercenaries – a lot of 'em. Savage
warriors from the north.'

Arkwright soon went off with the dogs and I was
left alone with the Spook. He looked ill at ease and
kept muttering to himself and shaking his head.

'What's wrong?' I asked.

'Wrong? Too much is wrong. This is just about the
most dangerous situation I've ever walked into with
both eyes open, lad. If we survive a likely attack by
maenads, we have to cross the Pindhos Mountains,
and they're likely to be crawling with feral lamia
witches. And all before we even set eyes on the
Ordeen . . .'

His reference to lamias made me think of Meg, the
love of my master's life, and her sister, the feral Marcia.
They'd both sailed back to Greece the previous year.
Maybe our route would take us close to where they
were staying? I wondered if he was still missing Meg.

'Will you go and see Meg while we're here?' I asked.

The Spook bowed his head, and for a moment I
thought he wasn't going to answer – or would tell me
in no uncertain terms to mind my own business. But
then he looked up and I saw sadness in his eyes; even
before he began to speak, I knew that he had been
considering it.

'I've thought about it, lad, but decided against it.
You see, she told me where she was heading. By now
she'll be living in a remote farmhouse far to the south.
Because she's kept her distance from people, she'll
have changed back to her feral form. I'd hardly
recognize her now. A year or so and she'll be no
different to her sister, Marcia. She's lost to me now. She
might as well be dead. The woman I knew and loved
is certainly gone, so I'd like to keep my last memories
of her just as they were . . .'

He shook his head sadly and I could think of
nothing to say that might make him feel better. But to
my surprise he was smiling as he got to his feet.

'Do you know, lad, my old bones have never felt
better! It must be the heat and the dry air. No doubt
they'll soon start aching again once we get back to the
County. But for all that, I'll be glad to be home!'

Late that afternoon Seilenos and three of his men
returned after a successful boar hunt. The other
warriors had been out scouting or guarding the
perimeter of the camp.

That night we dined under the stars, on wild boar
and lamb. 'All's well for now,' Mam said. 'There's
plentiful game in the area and the men report that
there's no sign of enemy activity. Tomorrow we press
on towards Meteora.'

Seilenos looked across at the Spook, who was merely
picking at his food. 'Eat up, Mr Gregory!' he said with
a smile. 'We have dark to fight soon. Need to build up
strength!'

The Spook looked back at him dubiously. I could tell
he didn't really approve of Seilenos. 'Back home in the
County, we spooks don't eat much when the dark
threatens,' he replied, his manner cool. 'When things
become critical, we fast, denying ourselves food so that
our minds and spirits are better prepared to face our
enemies.'

The Greek spook shook his head. 'That I cannot
understand!' he cried, throwing up his hands in
bewilderment. 'You weaken yourself by such foolish
practices. Food and wine give strength. Is that not so?
You will need your strength to face the salamander!'

'What's a salamander?' I asked.

'Highest and most powerful form of fire elemental is this salamander.
More powerful even than asteri. A big lizard, it is, basking at the heart
of fierce flames. It spits fire too. Also blows scalding steam from its nostrils.
Need lots of food inside you to fight such a formidable thing. Eat up, young
spook! You will need all your strength soon. Do your wives not feed you well
at home?' Seilenos asked, looking at Arkwright and the Spook in turn.

'I have no wife,' Arkwright growled.

'We County spooks don't marry,' John Gregory
explained. 'A wife and children would distract us from
our vocation, which is to fight the dark.'

'A pretty wife could be a distraction, yes,' Seilenos
agreed. 'Fortunate it is that my wife is ugly and has a
sharp tongue!' he went on, giving me a wink. 'I've five
little ones to bring up too. That's why I travel with you.
To escape wife and earn money from your good
mother!'

I was hungry and ate until I was full. Even so,
compared with Seilenos, I picked at my food. He ate
until his belly seemed sure to burst, applauded by his
men, who seemed to delight in his insatiable appetite.
When I settled down to sleep, he was still eating – and
drinking a good deal of wine.

I thought over what the Spook had reported earlier. Mam hadn't
mentioned her plan at supper, so she must still be thinking it through. Why
had she picked me to be part of the delegation? The thought was frightening
but I had to trust Mam's judgement.