The Whitby Witches 3: The Whitby Child (38 page)

High above the anxious figures of the coven, the imposing majesty of the Abbey rose. Dipped in the unlit gloom of the greedy dark it seemed a boundless place without end. The gothic arches curved far into the weeping night and the weathered columns of the nave and south transept merged with the looming clouds.

Still holding on to Pear, Jennet staggered through the teeming blackness, staring timidly at the shadow-filled shapes that reared around her. The corroded stonework took on a sinister aspect as if indistinct forms lurked within deep recesses and watched her with resentful eyes—incensed at this disturbance.

In zealous, craving whispers, the witches spoke of their longing and Jennet could sense that Pear too was captivated and ached for the culmination of their dreams.

Squawking amidst the voracious babble, the cracked voice of the fishmonkey directed them behind the majestic ruins. Between the truncated pillars of the presbytery and over the excavations of shallow graves, the coven proceeded eagerly.

With the great eastern window rising behind them, they hurried to where a large, dark pool stretched into the farmland beyond, and gathering in avid anticipation at the water's edge, their yearning faces gazed at it covetously.

In former times the monks had fished there, but since the Dissolution the pond had diminished and now only the neighbouring cows visited the marshy banks.

The surface of the black water sizzled and spat as the rain pelted from the turbulent heavens, and with an exulting cry, Hillian Fogle raised the fishmonkey over her head.

"Hear me!" she yelled. "The Coven of the Black Sceptre has done its work! The boy threat is no more! Our part in the bargain has been kept—now bestow upon us that which was promised!"

The mummified creature in her hands lifted its head and with a screech called to his master. "Lord!" he squealed. "The followers of thine agent have in truth succeeded. Draw aside the curtain of Death—send back the one they worship!"

Jennet shook with nerves as the witches held their breath and the atmosphere became tense and charged with feverish excitement. The rain had bedraggled them, but the girl noticed that Meta was already grooming her dripping hair for when their beloved returned.

A branching fork of lightning suddenly split the night and the Abbey flared beneath it as an almighty burst of thunder blasted over the cliff.

The plain trembled and at Jennet's side, Pear gave a glad shout. "It's started!" she cried. "Look!"

The surface of the pool was shimmering. As the lightning crackled overheard, and before the coven's adoring eyes, a faint glow flickered about the muddy banks and smouldering wisps of smoke curled up into the drizzle.

"Send him forth!" the fishmonkey squealed, madly waving his puny arms. "Knit again the sinew and clothe the unclean spirit in the raiment of flesh so that he might live again!"

Abruptly, a tongue of green flame leapt from the water, and with a flurry of sparks the pond ignited. The lurid glare of the emerald fires shone over the witches' faces and they began to mutter their high priest's name.

"Nathaniel," they hissed, "Come to us! Come to us!"

The flames danced in Meta's captivating eyes and she felt a delicious joy burn within her breast, nourishing and sustaining her very soul.
He
would soon be with her again and the very thought of his rapturous presence flushed shivers of exquisite pleasure down her spine.

"My love," she murmured lustily, "return to me."

Dazzling flames blazed furiously over the water, leaping ever higher and spiralling round, forming a twisting pinnacle of light that roared upwards. High above the cliff the shining beacon of green fire soared, spiking up past the ruined Abbey and piercing the seething clouds.

With a deafening clap of thunder, the towering flames stabbed into the heart of the storm and for an instant blinding needles of snaking energy illuminated the whole sky as they radiated through the tormented night.

Her face uplifted to the dazzling and frightening spectacle, Jennet stared as the massive clouds pulsed and throbbed and the booming roar of the sea trumpeted around her.

"It's fantastic!" Pear bawled. "Oh Jennet, it's actually happening—I'll see him again!"

Within the rearing coils of flame a shape was forming. Steadily it grew and Jennet's mouth fell open as a familiar silhouette began to stir in the whirling furnace.

Surrounded by the life-giving fires stood the figure of a man, and from the mouth of each witch issued a sensual and joyous breath.

Pear's attention was fixed solely upon the face now forming in the rippling flames and she stepped forward, disregarding the fierce heats of the fire. Into the fizzling mud she trod, opening her arms in greeting, and her wet clothes steamed before the blistering column of light.

"Father!" she called. "Father!"

Behind her, Jennet shielded her eyes from the harsh glare, then the cliff shook as a mighty clap of thunder resounded from the sky.

At once the flames dwindled and sank back into the pool and the plain plummeted into darkness.

Incredulously, and as a tempest of confused emotions curdled inside her, Jennet stared at the figure that was standing knee deep in the black water.

The most evil and callous outcast from virtuous humanity inhaled the damp air of the summer night and tilted his head arrogantly as a triumphant smirk spread across his bearded face.

Nathaniel Crozier, warlock, High Priest of the Black Sceptre and destroyer of vulnerable souls, appeared exactly the same as when Jennet had last seen him.

Glinting in the deep shadows beneath his brows, the sparkling, raven eyes glittered at each of his motley brides and a venomous chuckle left his lips.

"Father!" Pear sang, floundering through the water to meet him.

"Persephone," his compelling voice declared, "come to me my little succubus! Let all my hellhounds come to me!"

His command jolted the other women from their blissful amazement and with shrill, intoxicated whoops they splashed into the pool to touch and embrace the lord of their lives.

"Nathaniel!" they cooed, pawing at him, vying with each other and grovelling in the mud to gain his attention, "Praise to you!"

Clinging to his waist, Gilly Neugent gazed up at her reason for living, but he ignored her completely and she loved him all the more.

Fighting the others to reach the warlock, Meta threw her arms about his neck and kissed him fiercely.

"Choose me tonight!" she pleaded in his ear. "Let me serve you."

An irritated sneer curled over the mouth of the reborn fiend and he shrugged her off coldly, gazing past the desperate women at the two figures who had remained on the bank.

With the fishmonkey still in her arms, Hillian bowed to her high priest.

"Hail to you—darling man," she called breathlessly. "My heart is alongside itself with cheer. The road to this much happy moment was fraught with many dangers. Alas, we did lose Susannah and Miriam but to venerate you again is worth a thousand deaths."

Nathaniel's teeth flashed as he grinned. "Bravo, Hillian," he thanked her. "You have proven yourself the most worthy of all my cattle. To you will the ring of amethyst go—you shall be priestess over them. Together we will accomplish much."

Meta threw the plump, bespectacled woman a despising glance but the decision had been made and she pulled at his frayed jacket, trying to make him look at her.

"Enough!" Nathaniel icily demanded and immediately the witches recoiled as he began trudging through the water towards the marshy bank.

In the new priestess's arms, the shrivelled fishmonkey raised its webbed claws in salute.

"Thus hath my master fulfilled his portion," he shrieked. "The bargain is complete. Behold the might of the Allpowerful, his strength reaches unto the very shores of the hollow void."

Nathaniel gazed at the ugly creature in disdain and said in a cold and deadly warning, "No one—no man, woman, demon or god—uses me, not even the Lord of the Frozen Wastes!"

"Disclose not his exalted name!" the fishmonkey screeched. "There are many spies eager to hear it!"

"What do I care?" the warlock spat defiantly. "It was my will that controlled the great serpent and I shall do so again. Then let the Triad quake! I shall repay the Lord of the Frozen Wastes for using me—his repentance will be sung unto the furthest reaches of heaven!"

The creature gnashed its teeth and flapped its arms as it squawked in protest. "Twice now thou hast uttered that name. Desist from this folly—or we are all damned!"

Nathaniel ignored the ranting curiosity and his roving eyes glared into the gloom.

"What's this?" he murmured. "Are our ranks increased by a further member?"

His penetrating stare pierced the shadows where Jennet stood rooted with fear and his malevolent power cut into her.

The girl wilted before the intensity of those horrible eyes—yet at the same time a glorious thrill tingled in her heart.

"Janet," the leering man said in velvety scorn, "has the lamb finally come to wear the wolf's mantle? You ought to have embraced me long ago, child—I invited you to, remember?"

Unable to speak, she nodded faintly and swayed with uncertainty as her head pounded. She knew that she hated this foul and hideous man but could not recall why. He seemed so enchanting and charming and she felt the necklace grip her throat as her old devotion to him awakened and welled up in her breast.

In Hillian's arms, a puzzled frown stole over the fishmonkey's grotesque face and the creature stretched out a weedy arm in the direction of the town as it muttered vexedly under its stale breath.

Leaping from the water, Pear rushed to Nathaniel's side and cried joyously, "This is my friend, Jennet. She's one of us now, Father. Without the sacrifice she made you would never have been returned to us."

"Then I have much to thank her for," Nathaniel purred. "You have redeemed me from a most ignoble end, my little maiden. Won't you embrace me now and seal your fate with us?"

Jennet made to rush at him. All she wanted was to feel his caresses—nothing else mattered in the whole world. Then the voice of the fishmonkey sliced through her insane longing.

"WAIT!" he screamed, writhing madly in Hillian's grasp. "All is not as it should be—there are forces at work here. I feel them beating out a charm of concealment and blindness, yet even now they fail. The shadows they weave are dispersing—Ahhh! I have been cheated and deceived! The threat to my master is alive!"

Turning his ferocious face to Nathaniel, the fishmonkey clawed the air and screeched, "HE LIVES! The boy is not dead!"

The power of Irl's amulet had waned at last.

"Treachery!" the fishmonkey raged. "The Allpowerful has been betrayed!" He twisted his hump-backed body to stare accusingly at Jennet and pointed a menacing claw at her. "Thou hast done this!" he shrieked. "The lies did pour off thy poisonous tongue! This duplicitous wretch did murder no one! Her reviled brother still breathes! What dissembling guile is born in humankind!"

Jennet swallowed nervously as the coven stared banefully in her direction while the mummified creature ranted and squealed with outrage and fury.

Before her, Nathaniel's harsh eyes narrowed and she shivered in the malignance that beat out from them.

"It isn't true!" Pear shouted, springing to the girl's defence. "Father, Jennet did kill him, there was blood—we all heard the scream. Jennet, tell them."

But Jennet could say nothing and the witches drew closer around her.

"Unwise was my master to put his faith in such as you!" the fishmonkey cried at them. "So much for thy boastful claims, high priest. Thy feeble conjurations are not even capable of dominating one wilful child! What over-reaching hope hadst thou of being the governing force behind Morgawrus?"

"Be silent!" Nathaniel demanded.

But the creature would not be stilled, "Verily did the Allpowerful overvalue thy vaunted abilities a thousandfold! Thou art as sand on the shore, a witless fool amongst moon-calved mortals!"

Nathaniel bared his teeth at the fishmonkey then turned on Jennet and struck her viciously.

Wailing, she clutched her stinging face and Nathaniel reared over her.

"You pathetic idiot!" he growled. "You jeopardised the entire bargain! I might have been locked in the abyss for eternity!"

Furiously he spun on the fishmonkey and in a horrible voice proclaimed, "This is how I deal with the disloyal and faithless!"

"Father!" Pear cried, hanging on his arm. "No! Don't—Jennet's my friend!"

The warlock brushed his daughter off. "Be still, Persephone!" he roared. "You have no need of this wretch—she is not a member of our 'family'!"

Pear fell back, her eyes filling with bitter tears.

"Now," Nathaniel hissed at Jennet, "step forward!"

At first the girl refused and cringed away from him, but then as his eyes burned away her will she lurched over the sopping grass.

The warlock gave a brutal smile. "Now kneel," he commanded.

Jennet wept as she fell into the mud and prostrated herself before him.

The other members of the coven giggled in ghastly amusement at her humiliation. Meta tossed her head and hooted too loudly as usual, but with her cheeks streaming with pitying tears, Pear turned away.

"Now you shall see how Morgawrus would have submitted to me even as this child has done," Nathaniel declaimed, "for I am a master of control and my will reaches out into the innermost depths of the mind. See how easy it is to dominate! The girl is powerless to resist, she must obey me and so shall she die! Meta—give me your athame!"

The woman unfastened the ceremonial dagger at her waist, and with a sickening flutter of her lashes that made Pear's stomach heave, she handed it over.

Nathaniel snatched it roughly then dangled the blade before Jennet's face.

"See the bright steel!" he murmured. "Take it in your hands and put the blade against your ribs."

Pear shuddered as her friend received the dagger and silently pressed the point to her chest.

"And so shall the serpent be mine," the warlock boasted. "Now, dear little Janet, push the blade in."