A New Darkness (16 page)

My window had been firmly closed. I preferred stale air to cold air. “What were the noises like?” I asked.

“Something between a scream and a roar,” she said.

“It might have been the boggart warning somebody off. You’ve never heard the boggart before, have you?”

“I did wonder about that at first, but it seemed too far away to have come from the boggart. It sounded as though it came from many miles distant. It was like the cry of some big, scary animal.”

“Well, I think I’ll continue to keep my window closed, but if you hear it again, come and knock on my door and I’ll have a listen.”

That night, Jenny did just that.

I rubbed my eyes free of sleep, got out of bed, and opened the door a crack. “What’s wrong?” I asked, surprised, forgetting for a moment what I’d said earlier.

“You told me to knock if I heard that strange cry again. Well, I just heard it—it’s louder tonight. Open your window and listen. There’s something big out there, and it sounds really angry.”

“Go back to bed,” I told her. “I’ll listen now, and then we’ll talk in the morning.”

When she’d gone, I lifted the sash window slightly and got back into bed. I could hear the wind whistling through the trees, but that was all. Eventually I drifted back to sleep, only to awake a couple of hours later to a freezing bedroom. Annoyed, I reached across, slammed down the window sash, and went back to sleep.

At breakfast the following morning I was a bit short-tempered with Jenny. “A spook needs his sleep!” I told her. “And so does an apprentice. Tonight I suggest that you shut your window and sleep. Understood?”

“So you heard nothing?” she asked, buttering a thick slice of bread. She certainly had a healthy appetite.

“Nothing at all. The bedroom got cold, and this morning I have a headache. So don’t bother me again with your strange noises.”

That should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

The following night I awoke suddenly with a strong sense that something was terribly wrong. Something dangerous was out there. And I knew roughly where it was.

Jenny wasn’t the only one with gifts, but this one wasn’t given me because I was a seventh son of a seventh son. This was something I’d inherited from Mam, courtesy of my lamia blood. It was a useful gift and had helped me in the past.

It was not a good feeling. I was sweating, my heart was racing, and I was filled with dread. I felt compelled to do something; to act in order to make those awful feelings go away. Moreover, it was my duty as a spook to investigate. I dressed quickly, pulled on my boots, and ran downstairs. At the back door I threw on my cloak and snatched up my staff. Then I paused for a moment to concentrate.

My gift didn’t let me down. I was able to locate the danger precisely. Then, knowing where I was going, I paused for a moment to buckle on the belt that held the scabbard, and I slid the Starblade into it.

When I stepped outside into the garden, I saw to my surprise that Jenny was already standing there, bathed in the light of the gibbous moon.

“You heard it?” she asked, her eyes bright with excitement. “It’s really loud tonight.”

I’d still not heard anything, but I wasn’t going to correct her—and then, the next moment, I
did
hear the sound she meant. Although not very loud, it was somewhere between a roar and an angry screech; it certainly wasn’t the warning cry of the boggart. It came from miles away, just as Jenny had described.

I suddenly knew that it came from the big oak tree that the Kobalos mage had made his lair. That’s where my gift told me the danger lay. I didn’t know what it was, but I thought it might well have something to do with the dead mage. It might involve Kobalos magic; that’s why I’d brought the Starblade.

For a moment I considered telling Jenny to wait in the safety of the house while I investigated. But danger came with this job—I’d warned her about that already. She needed to come with me and take her chances, whatever the risk. It was something that John Gregory had always expected of me.

“Right, follow me, but stay well back. Understand?”

She nodded, and we set off toward the source of the sound.

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18

The Vartek

W
E
walked fast, and within three quarters of an hour we were approaching the lair of the dead mage. Every ten minutes or so, that unearthly screech echoed through the trees, each cry louder and more terrifying than its predecessor. My sense of danger was growing by the minute. What could we be walking toward? It was surely something big and fierce.

I wondered if Grimalkin was still in the vicinity, or if she had gone off without telling me.

Ahead, the moonlight illuminated the big oak, but when another screech split the heavens, I realized that the sound actually came from somewhere beyond it.

We strode past the oak, emerging from the trees into a wide meadow—to be greeted by an astonishing sight. Someone had scythed the grass very short and marked out a gigantic chalk circle, within which was a five-pointed star.

It was a magic pentacle of immense size.

Sometimes a mage would stand safe within such a pentacle and conjure something on the outside of it. Alternatively, he or she could stand beyond it while the entity was contained within it.

Was there a dark mage in the area? I wondered.

I noticed that at each of the five points of the star, a large candle made of black wax was burning. Although there was a breeze blowing from the west, the tall blue flames did not so much as flicker. Who else but a witch would use black wax candles? This had to be Grimalkin’s work, but there was no sign of her. What was this pentacle for?

Moving out from under the trees, we approached the circle, and I began to walk around the edge in a clockwise direction, with Jenny following at my heels.

“Don’t touch the circle!” I hissed at her. “Keep your boots well clear.”

There could be something invisible trapped within it.

We were almost halfway round when the ground began to tremble. I sensed danger behind me, so I turned quickly and looked down. As I watched, something thrust its way up through the grass like a sapling growing at an insane speed. It was as thick as a human arm and flexed in a spiral as it grew.

When two more followed, I took three rapid paces back, holding my staff across my chest in a defensive position. I now saw that they were tentacles, each tipped with a hard, sharp bone like a blade.

Jenny gasped in astonishment, and then we both stepped back rapidly as a huge head erupted from the earth. Next, thin legs emerged, got a purchase on the grass, and began to heave the rest of the monstrous black-scaled body out into the moonlight. It had legs beyond counting—a giant insect, something like a centipede.

Jenny opened her mouth wide, as if to scream, but no sound emerged. She just stared at the monster with wide eyes.

What was it? I racked my brains but could think of nothing similar that existed in the County.

It was about the height of a large breeding bull, but perhaps three or four times longer, with long jaws full of fearsome teeth. They moved strangely within its mouth and kept changing their angle and length, as if they were adjustable.

The bulging eyes regarded me carefully, and I could see myself reflected in each one. Then the beast breathed out, and foul acid breath washed over me, drawing tears from my own eyes. I started to cough and choke.

It scuttled forward to attack, and I heard Jenny give a moan of terror. I jabbed toward its left eye with the blade at the end of my staff, but the creature retreated out of range, then opened its jaws wide and gave that loud, screeching roar. At close quarters it was truly terrifying, and I was almost deafened by the sound, my teeth set on edge.

I realized that it was preparing to attack again, and I readied my staff, but just then I heard an eerie cry from somewhere near the trees. I risked glancing behind me and saw that it was the witch assassin. Grimalkin repeated the cry, and the creature turned, with great agility for its size, and scuttled toward her.

She turned and ran.

Somehow she had attracted its attention, perhaps by use of dark magic. She had been only too successful: she was running and had almost reached the trees—but it was catching up fast, getting closer and closer.

I ran after the creature, and Jenny followed behind me. Grimalkin was out of sight now, and the creature plunged into the wood, snapping branches and crushing saplings.

Under the branches, the light of the moon was obscured and it was suddenly dark. I slowed a little, fearful of blundering into the beast’s murderous jaws. Then came a crashing, tearing sound, as if trees were falling to earth, and then a terrible shrill scream.

For one heart-stopping moment I thought it was Grimalkin, caught in the jaws of the beast, but as I reached a small clearing I saw her facing me, a blade in each hand.

At her feet lay a large pit. I stepped forward and looked down into it. The huge creature was thrashing and twisting in agony, impaled on dozens of sharpened stakes that had pierced its long body. Two protruded from the top of its head.

I knew then what had happened. Grimalkin had dug the pit, camouflaged it, and lured the beast after her so that it fell in as she’d planned.

“You chose a bad moment to arrive,” she said brusquely. “You could have been killed. This beast can spit globules of acid. And beware of its legs—they are coated with a deadly poison. . . . But as you are here, you might as well be of use. Help me to finish it off.”

She jumped down into the pit; I followed nervously and, under her direction, set to work. Jenny remained above, staring down in horror at the grisly sight. The creature was still twisting and thrashing in a desperate effort to tear itself free. As it did so, it roared out its agony.

It gave off a strong acrid stench, and its breath was foul. I took care to keep well clear of its jaws, but the stink alone was almost unbearable. Grimalkin pierced its eyes with her blades, lancing them like boils, while I stabbed it again and again with the retractable blade at the end of my staff. Although the scales on its back were like armour, I now saw that its underbelly was soft and vulnerable.

Eventually the creature’s convulsions slowed, and then it lay still. The blood pooled beneath it, bubbling and hissing as it soaked into the soft earth.

Later Grimalkin walked back with us to the lair of the dead mage.

“I managed to contain that creature within the pentacle you saw, but it burrowed down to a great depth to escape. It’s called a vartek,” she told us. “That one was just a baby—imagine meeting one that’s fully grown.”

“How big do they grow?” Jenny blurted out, her eyes wide.

“One day I fear that we will find out,” Grimalkin said with a grimace.

“This is Jenny, my apprentice,” I told the witch assassin. “The girl who found the Kobalos mage.”

Grimalkin stared hard at her and gave the briefest of nods.

Jenny nodded back. She was staring at the witch with wide eyes. She looked almost as scared as she had when we faced the vartek.

“You did well, child.” Grimalkin’s voice was more gentle now. “I wish you good fortune. If you prove to be half as good an apprentice as your master, you will have chosen the right trade. And as for you, Tom, I am pleased that you have chosen a female apprentice. That shows courage. Many will disapprove of your decision, I’m sure.”

I was secretly pleased by Grimalkin’s praise, but there were more important things on my mind. “Where did the creature come from?” I asked her.

“I grew it,” she said simply. On seeing the shock in our faces, she explained, “From a sample in one of the jars I found in the mage’s lair. We are lucky that he did not manage to do the same. Imagine what damage such creatures could do to the County.”

At that moment I felt more uneasy than ever, and sweat formed on my brow. This was indeed a terrifying new threat. Then I suddenly sensed something else—another dark entity was out there still. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could do so, there was an angry roar from somewhere far to the southeast of us.

I saw the look on Grimalkin’s face, and it confirmed what my gift had told me.

Another vartek was on the loose!

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19

The Pursuit

“I
T’S
heading southeast!” I cried. “Did you know there were two?” I asked, turning to Grimalkin.

“No,” she admitted, her face grim. “They are burrowers, and while they were born on the surface, they immediately disappeared underground. Later, only one reemerged. The young eat each other—only the strongest should have survived. I truly thought this meant that there was only one remaining.”

Then, without another word, the witch assassin turned and sprinted through the trees in pursuit of the vartek.