Alice (17 page)

But there was no blow, no collision. Instead I found myself floating in darkness, utterly at peace. And suddenly I discovered the power that the handsome boy had spoken of. It was inside me, part of me; something I owned. It was something that I had been born with. Until this moment I had not been aware that I possessed such strength. Whereas before I’d felt vulnerable, prone to being pushed and hurt by those around me, now I had no doubt that I had the strength to push back.

‘
See – you don’t need spells, Alice, but speak them if they make you comfortable. All you need do is focus your mind and exert your will! Wish for what you want. Say to yourself, “My name is Alice.” Then be Alice. Nothing can then stand against you. Do you believe me?
’

‘Yes! Yes I do!’ I cried. It was true. I had absolute faith in what the voice promised. When I’d promised little Emily that I would stop her from being harmed, the words had come out of me without prior thought. And I’d really believed what I said to her. Perhaps that was because, deep down, a part of me already
knew
that I possessed the power to make it happen?

‘Then go in peace and do what must be done in order to
save those poor children. One day we will meet again, and then you will be able to help me.’

One second I was drifting happily in absolute darkness; the next I was standing on the canal towpath in the rain with the thunder rumbling overhead.

The barge had vanished.

Without hesitation, filled with a terrible certainty that I could intervene and rescue those children from the witches, I set off east towards the house of Salty Betsy.

I walked fast – but would I be too late?

I WAS DRIPPING
wet by the time I was even halfway there, my hair soaked and my pointy shoes squelching in the soggy grass. And as I walked, the confidence and determination that had come to me on the canal slowly ebbed away.

Now the barge and its strange occupant seemed nothing but a dream. Had it really happened? If so, what I’d believed at the time now seemed foolish. Lizzie was a really strong malevolent witch. I thought of the sprogs that she could summon from the dark to torment me. They usually just scratched and nipped a bit, but the threat of worse was always there. One had once pushed itself into my left nostril. If I hadn’t screamed for mercy to make Lizzie relent, it might have crawled right up into my
brain and started to feed. Could I really disobey her? I wondered.

There were no stars visible, so I wasn’t sure of the time, but it had to be approaching midnight. I walked even faster, finally breaking into a run.

Where was the house? It must be close by now. Then I remembered how difficult it had been even for Lizzie to find it. And she had studied the horizon in order to note its position. I had done the same, but it had been daylight then; now it was night, and the low cloud and rain obscured everything. Not only that, the magic cloaking it was very strong.

I became desperate. By now the witches might have already begun to kill the children. Where was the house?

Show yourself!
I thought desperately.
Show yourself!

And suddenly, lit by a flash of lightning, the house appeared.

It wasn’t as if I had got lucky and blundered through the cloak by chance. Because of the rain and poor visibility, like a small boat battling a storm, I had drifted off course. It was about two hundred strides to my left. I had been about to pass right by it.

Had I somehow broken through that powerful magical cloak with my will? Had I drawn upon the magic deep within me without even muttering a spell, just as the boy on the barge had told me I could?

I turned and began to run towards the house. Perhaps I wasn’t too late, after all . . .? But what would I do when I got there?

With its boarded-up windows, the house appeared to be
in darkness, barely an outline against the clouds. But I knew that down in the cellar, flickering candles and torches would be illuminating a scene of horror.

Lightning flashed again almost directly overhead, showing the surface of the pond churning under the force of the rain, which hammered down on the roof and cascaded in sheets from the overburdened gutters.

I reached the front door and tried the handle. It turned, but the door resisted my pressure. They had locked it. I bent forward, preparing to spit into the lock and use the spell of opening. Lizzie had mastered it, but my grasp of it was less sure. I hadn’t used it by myself before. But then I remembered what the boy aboard the barge had said:

You don’t need spells, Alice, but speak them if they make you comfortable. All you need do is focus your mind and exert your will! Wish for what you want. Say to yourself, “My name is Alice.” Then be Alice. Nothing can then stand against you. Do you believe me?

The house had revealed itself in response to my command. So I straightened my back, looked down at the lock and concentrated.

‘Open!’ I commanded.

There was a click, and in obedience to my wish, the lock turned. I liked that. It made me feel in control. It made me believe that perhaps I
could
rescue those children despite the great odds against me.

I eased open the door and went inside, closing it softly behind me. It was dark within, but I remembered the way to the cellar steps. I waited for a moment before going down,
my sense of urgency temporarily overwhelmed by the new wave of fear that washed over me.

But the sounds I heard from below spurred my feet to begin a rapid descent. There were wails of fear; a child screamed as if within an inch of losing its life.

When I reached the foot of the stone steps, I waited for a second or two, taking in the scene before me. It seemed that the water witches had decided to begin by gathering blood from the skelts in order to increase their power. Seven of the children were still in their cages. They must be the ones chosen for the ritual with Jacob Stone’s egg later. Six others were already staked out on the cellar floor; a skelt was being released from its cage even as I watched.

Some of the water witches were gathered around the terrified children. I counted them quickly, noting their positions; there were twelve, making Lizzie the thirteenth member of the temporary coven. She was sitting on a stool clutching the leather egg to her bosom, a self-satisfied smile on her face. Other witches were in the water, clearly enjoying the proceedings. Some surged up like excited seals, only to dive back in with hardly a ripple. Nobody seemed to be looking in my direction.

But where was Salty Betsy? There was no sign of her.

I had taken everything in with little more than a glance. I felt sharp and alert. Now I noticed that the skelt was advancing towards one of the children. It scuttled forward, its multi-jointed legs a blur, bone-tube raised, ready to plunge into the neck of its first screaming victim.

I had to do something quickly . . .

Rage and revulsion fill me
.

I concentrate
.

Stare hard at the advancing creature
.

I will it away from the child. Push it with my mind
.

It is thrown backwards, high into the air, as if seized by an invisible giant hand. It halts impossibly close to the ceiling; floats there as if time is freezing; then is hurled violently against the far wall of the cellar
.

The skelt splatters against the stones, its head breaking with a loud crack. It slithers down like a squashed bug, leaving a slimy trail of blood and brains, then enters the water with a loud splash and quickly sinks from sight
.

There is a moment’s silence
.

The children stop crying; the screaming pauses
.

All the witches turn to look at me, hatred and anger etched on their faces
.

It is Lizzie who attacks first. Clutching the egg in her right hand, she runs towards me, the fingers of her other hand extended as if she means to scratch out my eyes
.

I wait calmly, taking in a deep, slow breath
.

I am not afraid
.

My name is Alice
.

I step aside, and Lizzie’s hand misses my face. I extend my foot. She trips over it, falling headlong onto the muddy floor of the cellar. The leather egg spills from her grasp and rolls away, right to the edge of the water.

The children are silent
.

It is the witches who scream now. They scream in rage
.

I look down at Lizzie, who is sprawled in the mud. She glares up at me with hatred. Her mouth twists in a sneer
.

She is still a threat, and I will have to deal with her very soon
.

But it is the water witches who pose the more immediate danger. Wild with anger, they run at me, all fangs and claws. They have tremendous strength – they could rip me limb from limb, devour my flesh, drink my blood and chew my bones into fragments
.

They could. But I will not allow it
.

I have no talons of my own. My teeth are ordinary teeth. I have no blades at my disposal
.

I have only my magic
.

And there is more than one way to use it
.

I wish I had the abilities of another – someone more capable of dealing with this threat
.

I slip off my pointy shoes and grip one in each hand. Their heels will be my weapons. All I need is the skill. So I wield my magic and gather it to me. I exert my will. Now I have the innate ability and honed skill of the greatest warrior. I feel it pour into my body
.

My name is Alice
.

The first of the water witches reaches for me. I step aside and clout her hard with the heel of my pointy shoe. She goes down. She now has a third eye in her forehead; a red one, dribbling blood
.

I spin and whirl, doing the dance of Grimalkin; the dance of death. And I strike left, right, and left again. Each savage strike makes contact. Each blow fells an enemy. And I wish them to be terrified. That is my will.

Soon they are fleeing
.

Some splash into the water and escape that way. Others scamper up the steps
.

I feel so strong. Even the threat of Morwena does not concern me. Let her come. I will deal with her too!

But Morwena does not show herself. It is almost a disappointment
.

Now only Lizzie remains
.

She scrambles to her feet, daubed in mud
.

The moment of reckoning has arrived
.

Something inside me wants to kill her. She is a murderess – a slayer of innocent children. The world would be a much better place without her. I gather my will, but then I hesitate. I cannot do it
.

She is family. I will not take her life
.

Then I remember what she did to me and I smile
.

The sprogs! I will use the sprogs to torment her!

Can I do that? Will they obey my command? Is my magic that strong? Using my will, I summon them from the dark. Full of hunger, they surge into our world
.

I hurl them at Lizzie
.

When I leave with the children, she is in serious trouble
.

She is screaming
.

One sprog is already forcing itself into her ear. She is fighting desperately, vainly. Another is scratching its way up into her left nostril. So I put a limit on things. Give it five minutes before the sprogs go back to the dark
.

Next I look over to where the egg is balanced on the edge of the muddy shelf. I walk towards it. But then something strange occurs. Something writhes upwards; a long thin multi-jointed limb.

I recognize it immediately
.

It is the foreleg of a skelt. One must have been lurking in the water. The limb moves towards the leather egg
.

I step forward to seize it. It should be kept safe, far from Lizzie’s clutches
.

But then I halt and relax
.

Let the skelt take it. It will be safer beyond Lizzie’s reach
.

However, I consider the water witches who might still be able to locate and retrieve it . .
.

I have hesitated too long
.

The limb grips the leather egg and draws it down beneath the surface with hardly more than a ripple. It is a strange thing for the skelt to do. Why does it want the egg? I push it from my mind. The children must be returned to their homes
.

As I led the way out of the house, I realized it was still raining. But the children didn’t seem to care. When I looked back at them, I saw that most were chatting excitedly, just glad to be away from the witches and scary skelts.

Some would be going home to their families; others to the orphanage. I wondered if they were happy there.

Then I noticed Emily, the girl whose mother Lizzie had attacked. She was not talking to anyone. I made up my mind to go back, take her by the hand and ask her to walk alongside me. But suddenly I was distracted.

As we passed the pond, a figure stepped out of the shadows and ran towards me. The children scattered, but I stood my ground.