Spook’s: I Am Grimalkin (24 page)

Moving as fast as I was able, I reluctantly left their trail and crossed the Ribble, heading northwest. I had to go to Chipenden first. It would mean losing perhaps half a day, but I could still catch the witches before they sailed.

I avoided the village itself and began to climb the lane to the boundary of the Spook’s property. Once, I would not have risked entering the garden. But Alice had told me that the boggart that had guarded it was gone, its pact with John Gregory ended when the house burned and the roof collapsed.

Even so, I entered the trees of the western garden slowly and cautiously. In the distance I could see the Spook’s house. As I drew nearer, I also saw trestle tables and huge planks and other building materials. Out of sight, someone was sawing wood. The roof had already been replaced, and a thin spiral of smoke was rising from a chimneypot. Then suddenly I heard distant voices; voices that I recognized.

Although my magic had gone, some witch skills are innate – especially that of sniffing. It was Alice and Tom Ward, the apprentice. The Spook wasn’t with them. No doubt he was warming his old bones close to the fire.

So I crept closer and crouched behind the trunk of a large tree.

‘It just ain’t right, Tom,’ I heard Alice say. ‘Nothing’s changed. No matter what I do, Old Gregory will never trust me. Why can’t I come with you? Try talking to him again.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Tom replied, ‘but you know how stubborn he can be. He wants to set off first thing tomorrow, but we’ll probably only be away for a few days, Alice. You’ll be comfortable here.’

‘I’m probably better off staying here anyway!’ Alice retorted. ‘You two had best go and sort through them mouldy old books. Anyway, you get back to the house, Tom. I’m going for a walk to think things through. Feel better for a walk, I will.’

‘Don’t be like that, Alice. It’s not my fault and you know it.’

But Alice wouldn’t listen and began to stroll in my direction, and after a moment Tom bowed his head and walked back towards the house. As she passed me, Alice glanced in my direction. It was a shock to see her white hair – the result of being snatched away into the dark and tormented by the Fiend and his servants. She smiled, then walked on, leaving the garden and crossing the field towards the lane. She had sniffed out my presence and had worked out the situation – she knew that I didn’t want to be seen by Tom.

I followed her down into the lane, where she moved under the shadow of some trees and waited for me. Before leaving Ireland, she had contacted me to tell me of her experiences when she’d been taken into the dark. I couldn’t get used to the sight of her white hair.

Her eyes widened as I approached. ‘Where’s the Fiend’s head?’ she demanded.

‘Our enemies have it, Alice. They seized it yesterday, and they’re now taking it to the coast – to Liverpool, I think. I need your help!’

Alice looked afraid – and with good reason. If the Fiend’s supporters succeeded in reuniting the head with the body, the Fiend would walk the earth once more. Tom and Alice no longer had the blood jar as a means of defence. His first act
would
be to seize them and drag them off into the dark, and then they’d face an eternity of torment.

‘What sort of help? What can I do?’

‘My magic’s gone, Alice, all used up.’

‘Magic ain’t everything,’ Alice said. ‘You’re Grimalkin. You can use your blades. Hunt ’em down one by one. What’s wrong with you? Never heard you talk like this. What am I supposed to do?’

‘My blades won’t be enough, Alice. There are too many of them. I need my own magic to deflect theirs, and to be able to cloak myself and retain an element of surprise. Then there’s the kretch – it was specially made to kill me and take back the head. It’s formidable. It’s already killed one of the lamias left to guard Malkin Tower. Its claws are coated with a deadly poison. It hurt me badly, Alice; now I am plagued by bouts of weakness.’

‘My aunt, Agnes Sowerbutts, could help. Some wouldn’t agree, though I reckon she’s the best healer in Pendle.’

‘She tried, Alice. She pulled me back from the brink of death, but I’m permanently damaged. You can’t believe how bad things have been. Agnes is dead. They killed her. They killed Thorne too, and took her thumb-bones while she was still alive and—’

I was going to say more about how brave Thorne had been and how she’d saved me after I’d been poisoned, but I had to stop, choked with emotion.

As Alice took in the full import of what I was saying, her eyes widened in horror.

‘So I need some of your magic, Alice. You’ve plenty. Just transfer some to me.’

‘No!’ Alice cried, clenching her fists at her side. ‘I won’t do it. Build up your own magic again – you can do it.’

What Alice meant was that I should kill, take the thumb-bones of my victims and carry out the necessary rituals. Yes, it could be done, but there wasn’t time.

‘Within a day they will have sailed for Ireland with the Fiend’s head. There simply isn’t time to replenish my magic using the normal methods. Give me some of
your
power, Alice. Heal me as well. You’ve more power than you need. You can do it.’

Alice was a special kind of witch – a type rarely found. Although she didn’t practise the rituals of blood, bone or familiar magic, she had a power within her. Tremendous innate power that was part of her being; part of being Alice.

‘I can’t touch it – you know that!’ Alice retorted. ‘Use the dark and you end up being part of the dark. Don’t want that, do I?’

‘You’ve used it before,’ I accused her.

‘That’s true enough. I did so in Ireland to save Tom, so I can’t risk using it again now.’

‘You have to take the risk. Otherwise the Fiend will come for you – and soon. How long will it take them to dig him up from the pit and join the head to the body? Even counting the sea voyage and the journey across Ireland to Kerry, he could well come for you within the week. Tom too! That’s how long you’ve got, Alice, if you don’t help me now.’

Alice was quiet for a long time; when she spoke, her voice
was
little more than a whisper. ‘All right, I’ll come with you. We’ll follow ’em and see what’s what, but I ain’t promising anything. Wait here – I’ll just go and tell Tom.’

‘No, that would be a mistake. We don’t want to lead him into danger; nor that master of his. Besides, they’re off somewhere tomorrow. I overheard your conversation in the garden. They’ll be away for a few days and it’ll all be over before they get back.’

‘They’re going east to the County border,’ Alice replied. ‘Old Gregory’s heard of a collection of books about the dark. He’s hoping to get his hands on some to restock his library. You’re right. Let’s leave Tom and Old Gregory out of it.’

So, without further words, we set off in a westerly direction. Within hours we had picked up the trail of our enemies and were heading towards the coast.

WE FOLLOWED OUR
enemies with great caution, gradually overhauling them; by the time we sniffed out that they’d made camp for the night, we were only two miles behind.

We settled down in a grove of trees and watched their camp-fires spark into life like fireflies. We were close, and already in danger. We were able to sniff them out, but they could do likewise. They might well send some of their party back to deal with us.

‘Alice, you need to use some of your magic now to cloak us.
The
kretch was able to find me despite my best efforts to hide myself, so the spell needs to be as strong as you can make it!’

Alice nodded, then settled down with her back against a tree trunk, closed her eyes and began to mutter to herself. The moon was out, casting dappled shadows on the ground. By its light I studied Alice’s face. Even without taking into account her white hair, her face looked older. It was still that of a girl, but now it had a maturity that belied her years. She had seen too much.

When she opened her eyes, I was momentarily shocked. They were still youthful and pretty, but it was as if some ancient, powerful being stared out at me; something hardly human that had dwelt on earth since time began. It only lasted for a second, and disappeared as she began to smile, but I shivered all the same.

‘It’s done,’ she said. ‘They can’t find us now.’

‘Next you must try to heal me,’ I told her. ‘Do it now. Heal me first, then give me some of your magic.’

The smile slipped from her face. ‘Ain’t sure if I can do it,’ she responded.

To give me some of her magic was feasible. Pendle witches sometimes did it – though grudgingly; they were like moneylenders, expecting it to be returned threefold at a later date. But it might well be that Alice would be unable to heal me. Agnes had failed, and healing had been her speciality. Sometimes sheer power simply wasn’t enough. But, as it turned out, Alice wasn’t actually doubting her ability; she was afraid of the consequences.

‘It’s really dark magic and it could cost me too much,’ she said, and now it was her turn to shiver. ‘I could end up being a fully malevolent witch. That’s why Old Gregory don’t trust me. He’s always believed that’s the way I’ll turn out.’

I shrugged. ‘Being a malevolent witch isn’t that bad, Alice. It’s what I am. You’d be no worse than me. You can’t fight your own nature. Maybe it’s what you were always born to be.’

‘There are worse witches than you, Grimalkin. You’ve a code of honour. You don’t kill for fun, but slay those who deserve to die. You love hunting strong enemies who put up a good fight, but you don’t trample on the weak. There are some witches who do; some witches who glory in power and in hurting others. I don’t want to end up like them. I’m afraid that in using the power I’ve been given, that’s exactly how I will end up. Best not forget who I am – the daughter of the Fiend!’

‘You’ll always be what you were destined to be, Alice. Like Tom Ward, you have a path to follow, and you must take the necessary steps or always be less than you could be. Now heal me and give me some of your power. Please do it – otherwise the Fiend will walk the earth once more. He will come for you and then for Tom.’

Alice shivered, but then she nodded. ‘I’ve no choice, have I? Kneel facing the north,’ she commanded, ‘and I’ll do what I can.’

I obeyed, falling to my knees and facing north – the direction that was most conducive to both the healing and the transfer of power.

Alice placed her hands on my forehead. ‘First I’ll try to
heal
you,’ she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

I don’t know what I expected to happen. With a healer like Agnes Sowerbutts, the use of herbs and plant extracts was as important as the words and ritual. I knew that Alice administered such medicines herself and carried them in a leather pouch, but now she was using nothing more than her hands on my head. She didn’t even chant a spell.

‘It’s really difficult,’ she said after a while. ‘The poison lies deep within. It’s oozed into every part of your body. In places the damage is subtle; in others obvious and severe. I’m going to have to use more magic, but I’m scared of hurting you. There’s even a risk that the process could kill you,’ she warned.

‘Don’t let that concern you,’ I answered. ‘I would rather be dead than less than what I was.’

‘That’s your choice. But if you’re dead, who’ll retrieve the Fiend’s head?’

‘I cannot retrieve it in my present state, so what’s the difference?’ I said. ‘If I die, go and get Thomas Ward. Work together. Only you two will stand any chance against our enemies.’

I felt a slight tremor in Alice’s fingers, and then she pressed them into my skull and the world spun about me. My breathing gradually became faster, as did my heartbeat. I began to tremble all over. There were sharp pains in my stomach and chest, as if some invisible being were plunging a needle into my flesh over and over again.

Quickly the process reached a crisis. My heart was now beating so fast that the individual pulses of blood merged and it seemed to be vibrating continuously. I felt as if I were dying,
but
then a surge of warmth flowed out of Alice’s fingertips and I fell forward onto my face and momentarily lost consciousness.

I felt myself being pulled back up into a kneeling position, and opened my eyes.

‘How do you feel?’ Alice asked.

‘Weak,’ I said, aware that my heart was now beating slowly and steadily again. ‘Did you succeed?’

‘Yes, I’m certain of it.’ Alice gave a proud smile. ‘The last traces of the poison and its effects upon your body are gone.’

What she had done was more than impressive – it was astounding. Where Agnes, with all her skill and knowledge, had failed to find me a permanent cure, Alice had succeeded. She was still a girl, but how formidable would she be as a woman and a fully fledged witch? What better ally could I have on my side?

‘I thank you for that, Alice. Now lend me the magical power I need – the power to retrieve the Fiend’s head and deal with our enemies.’

Once more Alice laid her hand upon me. For a moment she hesitated and I sensed her reluctance: I glared at her angrily. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, she began to chant the spell of transference; within seconds a tingle started at my head and moved down my neck towards my heart and then to my extremities. She was giving me some of her magic – a lot of it. It was going straight into my body. I wouldn’t need to draw it from my necklace; it would be available the moment I willed it. The process went on for a long time. And it felt right.