The Whitby Witches 3: The Whitby Child (36 page)

"I don't understand," he muttered. "What does it mean?"

The old lady shook her head. "Haven't the foggiest idea," she replied worriedly, "but those are desperate people out there and that makes them more deadly than ever. It might be one last malefice—a black spell from the dark path—although what they hope to achieve is... I really don't know. We must be certain the house is secure. Benjamin, you stay here with Jennet while I make sure the windows are locked upstairs."

"You're not expecting them to climb up the walls, are you?" he cried.

Aunt Alice's eyes opened wide. "I expect everything!" she stated grimly before trotting into the hallway and up the stairs.

Ben kept a close watch on the figures outside. Yet his gaze was constantly drawn to the deformed and malignant shape of the fishmonkey, and the hairs on the back of the boy's neck tingled when he saw that the foul creature was smiling straight back at him.

Behind Ben, in the shadows of the darkening room, Jennet shrank against the wall and felt the oppressive music of the coven close around her as the drug began to take effect. The girl's face was beaded with cold sweat and her flesh was trembling as wave after wave of fear and control beat towards her. Like a terrified and cornered rabbit her eyes rolled in their sockets and she opened her mouth to scream—but only a parched whimper crossed her lips.

The noise of the song was unbearable—how could Ben stand it? Why didn't he hear the terrible drumming in his head and the shrill goading that devoured her energy and conjured up repugnant images in her mind?

About her throat the necklace constricted and she gasped as it bit into her skin. "No," she whined, sinking forlornly to the floor. "Keep away from me!"

Concealed beneath the armchair, Eurydice stared at Jennet and her ears flattened against her skull as she arched her back, and with a frightened mewling cry, the three-legged cat darted from the room and raced up the stairs.

Ben had heard his sister's strangled gasp but he did not turn to see what the matter was, for in the courtyard something weird and awful was happening—the women were changing.

"This night shall be your final chance!" the fishmonkey shrieked in Hillian's arms. "Fail in this and your dream is dashed! Concentrate now, oh followers of the Black Sceptre. Put forth your joined might and destroy this base worm!"

With renewed vigour, the coven spat out the eerie, strident song, and as their lips parted to form the mysterious words, they drew them back over their growing teeth and their jaws pushed forward to form ravening snouts. The spine of each woman, including Pear, stretched and snapped, and dark fur sprouted and bristled around the large dog-like ears that tapered from their growling heads.

Ben gaped at them in horror as they assumed terrifying new forms, nightmarish half-creatures—part human, part animal.

The song changed into a bestial chorus as the witches barked and snapped out the words and the boy called fearfully to Miss Boston.

"Aunt Alice!" he shouted. "Come here quickly!"

His voice died in his throat for suddenly he became aware of a wheezing, grunting noise directly behind him and with a sickening terror clutching at his stomach, he slowly turned around.

"Jen!" the boy cried. "What's the matter?"

The girl was gagging for air as the beads pressed against her windpipe and her eyes bulged from her skull. She stared horribly at her brother, then clawed at her throat, fighting to breathe. As she struggled a name formed upon her cracked lips and she was powerless to resist. Finally she surrendered to the terrible might of the chanting coven and throwing back her head, the girl screamed.

"NATHANIEL!"

Ben fell backwards. A frantic light shone in his sister's swollen eyes and her body jerked and flinched as she tried to regain control but the coven had her now—she belonged to them completely.

In despair, she watched as her limbs began to move, driven by a will stronger than her own and though she screeched and wailed there was nothing she could do.

"Help me!" she wept to her brother. "I can't stop them! Oh Ben, help me!"

Dominated wholly by the combined wills of the coven, Jennet took a prowling step closer to the boy whilst outside the clamour of the witch hounds mounted feverishly.

"Jen!" Ben murmured, backing away from her. "Don't mess about!"

"I'm not!" she cried as her feet dragged over the floor towards the fireplace. "I really can't stop myself!"

At that moment her eyes fell on the objects which Aunt Alice had dropped and a hideous panic gripped her. "Ben!" she cried, her voice high with fear. "Run—get away from me! Can't you see what they're trying to do?"

Jennet's voice choked as she realised the evil truth and her legs buckled beneath her, forcing the girl to stoop down. Like a spider her hand leapt out and seized hold of the rusted African spear and, with tears streaming down her face, she lifted the ghastly weapon and aimed it at her brother.

Ben let out a petrified yell then whipped round and fled into the hall where he ran straight into Miss Boston.

"Benjamin!" she declared. "What..?"

Her gaze passed beyond him to where Jennet stood framed in the doorway with the spear gripped tightly in her hands.

"Jennet?" the old lady asked in dismay. "Is that you? Put the weapon down, please."

"Aunt Alice!" the girl sobbed wretchedly. "Make them stop! Make them stop!"

"This is monstrous!" Miss Boston roared. "Leave the child be!" Flinging open her arms she drew a holy symbol of exile and banishment in the air but the coven's control over the girl was absolute.

Jennet cried piteously as she was compelled to stumble on and the point of the spear came slicing and stabbing towards the old lady and Ben.

"Avaunt!" Miss Boston bellowed as she stood her ground.

"Get away from me!" Jennet beseeched them. "They'll make me kill you!"

Muttering one last spell Aunt Alice shoved Ben up the stairs out of danger then called the girl's name over and over.

"Cast them out, Jennet!" she urged. "Free yourself—Jennet, listen to me!"

The blade came sweeping down and the old lady only just dodged aside in time.

"I've tried!" Jennet wept. "Look out!"

Again the spear thrust out and Miss Boston knew her efforts were in vain. Nothing could save the girl from the coven's influence.

"Benjamin!" she cried. "Go to my room—hurry!"

The boy darted upstairs but on reaching the landing he stopped and stared over the banister at the awful scene below.

In a savage attack, Jennet dived at Miss Boston but the old lady made a grab for the spear and tried to wrench it from her.

Into the kitchen they crashed, slamming against the sink, and the dishes were thrown to the floor as they fought with each other.

The girl possessed an unnatural strength and Miss Boston was no match for her, yet Jennet slithered on the broken crockery and, seizing her chance, Aunt Alice pushed her away.

Still clutching the spear, the girl slid into the table and Miss Boston headed for the kitchen door locking it behind her.

Breathless after the struggle, she shouted through the barrier, "Are you injured, Jennet?"

Inches from her face the wood splintered and flew into the hall as the spear came punching through the door and Jennet's terrified voice rang throughout the cottage.

"It's no good!" she howled. "Forgive me, Aunt Alice—forgive me!"

Miss Boston stepped back from the quivering door as Jennet pounded upon it and the frenzied assaults of the spear tore and gouged great rents in the crackling panels.

The old lady edged towards the stairs. The hallway became littered with sharp shards of shattered wood and the broken door quaked in its frame as Jennet struck it one last time.

With a thundering crash the tattered remains flew off the hinges and smashed into the opposite wall. Screaming in abject terror, the girl leapt over the debris and came charging up the stairs.

Fleeing before her, Miss Boston sped over the landing, shoved Ben through into her bedroom and slammed the door in Jennet's anguished face.

"There's no key for this lock!" Aunt Alice cried, putting her weight against it as the girl pushed and kicked. Desperately, she looked about the room. "Benjamin!" she called urgently. "The dressing-table, try to bring it over here!"

The boy heaved at the old oak dressing-table. It was incredibly heavy and he jumped in alarm as an angry miaow issued from beneath it.

"Get out of the way, Eurydice!" he yelled and the cat scooted around the room, searching for a new hiding place. Grunting, Ben managed to waggle and pull the dressing-table close enough for Miss Boston to help him.

Together they pushed it against the door handle and Jennet's insane hammering ceased, only to be replaced by the vicious blows of the spear.

"She'll get through!" Ben wept. "There's no escape from here—we're cornered!"

Aunt Alice watched impotently as the blade came snapping through the wood—the boy was right.

In the courtyard the fishmonkey's amber eyes blazed with fiery malevolence. "Louder!" he screeched, inspiring the coven and spurring them on. "Give the child your strength, slay the insolent boy! In the name of my almighty master—kill him, kill him!"

The witch hounds were bawling the abhorrent song now, their fiendish muzzles furrowed with rage and their long teeth dripping with frothing saliva—anticipating the murder they were impelling Jennet to commit.

Dark shadows gathered around the cottage as night settled over the town. Revelling in the evil tension, his eyes bright as lamps, the fishmonkey let out a high-pitched, reedy laugh. In a fever of black rejoicing, the foul creature pulled himself up Hillian's plump arm and scrambled to her shoulder to get a better view of the window above.

Clinging to the lapel of her expensive jacket, the fishmonkey cackled and squawked shrilly.

"Destroy him! Plunge the weapon deep into the whelp's gullet! Hack and chop! Disembowel the enemy of the Allpowerful—let there be but offal and gore! Strew his entrails over the sea!"

Balancing on the witch hound's shoulder he threw back his ghastly head and tittered wildly, clapping the webbed claws, thrilling to the discordant sorceries that bludgeoned and blasted into the cottage.

In her bedroom, Miss Boston and Ben cowered against the wardrobe as Jennet lunged through the ragged hole she had made in the door and clambered over the dressing-table barricade.

The girl was almost fainting in despair but the incessant will of the coven propelled her on and she could only splutter and scream as she stalked over to the old lady and her brother.

"Jen!" Ben whined. "Snap out of it—you can do it!"

"I can't!" she cried pathetically.

Girding herself one last time, Miss Boston raised her hands and in a forceful voice proclaimed, "In God's holy name! I do evoke the hallowed strength of all the Seraphim, Cherubim, Witnesses, Thrones, Principalities, Dominions, Powers, Angels and Archangels! Aid us in this dark hour, drive out the bewitchment. Let the strings that tie this child be cut!"

For an instant Jennet wavered as the cruel enchantments yielded. But the iron resolve and ferocious tenacity of the coven snapped back around her as their howling screeches yammered to a crescendo outside and with a mournful whimper the girl pounced at Aunt Alice.

Valiantly, the old lady wrestled with the spear that came plunging for her. With all her remaining strength she tried to tear it from Jennet's grasp but it was no use. The girl punched and kicked and with an agonised cry, Miss Boston was knocked to the floor.

"Aunt Alice!" Jennet shrieked, and she leaped over her body towards Ben. "Stop me, someone!"

The boy cringed in the corner as his possessed sister crept up to him with the deadly weapon poised in her hands.

"Don't do it, Jen!" he begged through his tears. "Please!"

Jennet's torture disfigured her features. Her livid face was drenched with sweat and tears, and though she tried to scream as her arms raised the spear over her head, only a throttled moan came out.

Ben pressed into the corner and his round eyes stared in mortal dread at the blade which reared above him.

"Jen!" he wailed for the last time.

Sprawled over the floor, Miss Boston lifted her aching head just as the weapon plummeted towards Ben.

"No!" she shrieked.

Outside the cottage the coven gave a tremendous shout, then their savage voices were drowned by a hideous scream. Ben's voice blistered over the courtyard and the witch hounds held their breath expectantly. Abruptly the boy's shrill cry ended and the fishmonkey sucked the air through his needlelike teeth, widening a ghastly smile.

"Is it done?" he cackled to himself. "Is it over?"

From the upstairs window Jennet's distraught howls rose to an insane yell and through her raving shrieks Miss Boston's appalled voice spluttered.

"Benjamin! Benjamin! He's dead. Jennet—you killed him!"

The girl's torment was terrible to hear, yet the members of the coven lapped up the hideous grief and their tongues came lolling from their foaming jaws.

Only one of the witch hounds turned away in disgust. The smallest of the misshapen women covered her face and the bones shrank inside the malformed head until Pear regained her human form. In revulsion and shame she lowered her moist eyes and stepped back from the others.

"I must be certain," the fishmonkey hissed anxiously. "I must know the landbreed maggot is dead."

Closing his glinting eyes, the creature stretched out his bony claws and searched the cottage with his mind.

"The girl is descending the stairs," he sensed "How lame and shaken she is—yet up in that room what shall we find?"

Emitting a triumphant gurgle, the fishmonkey writhed upon Hillian's shoulder and his breath came in gulping wheezes as he cackled and sniggered.

"Only one other presence is within!" he screeched. "One of great age—and the reek of death overshadows her. The wormling is no more! We have accomplished the task. My master is victorious!"

The front door of the cottage opened slowly and upon the threshold Jennet stared out at them.