The Spook's Battle (20 page)

 "They'll stay under guard in the wood," Mab said. "They can go free when the trunks are open and not a moment before. But you're not going anywhere. You're staying here, Tom. And we'll be cozy without Alice--that Malkin--Deane cross-breed--getting in our way. Well then, give me the keys and let's get started."I didn't argue. I felt helpless. The whole situation was a nightmare that I couldn't find my way out of. I'd let down the County, the Spook, and my mam. With a heavy heart I pulled the keys from my neck and gave them to her. She walked across to the trunks and I followed, standing meekly at her side. Only Beth and Jennet had stayed in the room with us, but more armed Mouldheels were just outside, guarding the door."Which one should I open first?" Mab asked, smiling at me sideways.I shrugged."Three trunks and three of us," Beth called out from behind. "That's one each. You choose quick, Mab, then we can open ours. My turn next.""Why should I go last?" Jennet complained."Don't worry," Beth replied. "If I choose wrong, you might get the best.""No!" Mab hissed, whirling to face her sisters. "All three trunks belong to me. If you're lucky, I might give you a gift each. Now, be quiet and don't spoil it for me. I've worked hard to get these."The twins flinched away from Mab's hostile gaze, and she turned her attention back to the trunks. Suddenly she knelt and inserted one of the three small keys into the lock of the central trunk. She wriggled the key about, but it wouldn't turn, and with a frown of annoyance she tried another trunk. When that also failed to unlock, Jennet giggled."Third time should do it, sister!" she taunted. "Not your lucky day, is it?"When even the third trunk failed to yield to the key, Mab came to her feet and faced me, her eyes blazing with anger.

 "These the right keys?" she demanded. "If this is a trick, you'll be more than sorry!""Try one of the other keys," I suggested.Mab did so, but the result was the same. "Think I'm stupid?" she shouted. Then her expression became cruel and she turned to Jennet. "Go and bring the child here!""No," I said. "Please don't do that, Mab. Try the other key. Maybe that'll work. ..."By now I was anxious, and my palms began to sweat. It had been bad enough surrendering the keys in the first place. But if they wouldn't open the trunks, I knew that Mab's revenge would be terrible and that she'd start by hurting the child. What was wrong? I wondered if the trunks would open only if I held the key. Could that be possible?Mab knelt again and tried the third key. The first two trunks again failed to open but, to my relief, the third gave a click and the key finally turned. She looked up with a smile of triumph and then slowly lifted the heavy wooden lid.The trunk was full, but of what exactly it was not possible to see yet. A large piece of white material was neatly folded on top. Mab lifted it up, and as it unfurled, I saw that it was a dress. Suddenly I realized it was a wedding dress. Was it Mam's? It seemed likely. Why else would she keep it in her trunk?"Too big for me, this is!" Mab said with a smirk, holding it up against her body, the hem trailing on the floor.

 "What d'you think, Tom? Look rather fetching, don't I?"She was holding the dress the wrong way around, the back facing me, and with a gasp I made out the line of buttons running from neck to hem. I'd no time to count them, but I saw enough to suspect that they were made of bone. The last time I'd seen buttons like those they were on a dress worn by Meg Skelton, the lamia witch who'd lived with the Spook at Anglezarke. Was my mother's wedding gown fastened by bones like a lamia witch's dress?Mab threw the dress to Jennet. "Gift for you, Jennet!" she called. "You'll grow into it one day! Just have to be patient, that's all."Jennet caught it, screwing up her face in disgust. "Don't want this old dress! You have it, Beth," she said, passing it to her twin.By now Mab had pulled a second item from the trunk. It was another garment. Again she held it against her body, trying it for size, even though it was evidently a man's shirt.Instantly I guessed what it was: Dad's shirt--the one he'd used to shield Mam's body from the fierce rays of the sun when he'd found her bound to a rock with a silver chain--the chain that had been in my possession until Nowell had taken it from me.

 She'd saved the shirt in memory of what he'd done."This musty old shirt's your gift, Beth!" Mab called, throwing it toward her sister with a mocking laugh.Of course, it was better than Mary being hurt, but it pained me to see Mam's things treated in that disrespectful way. Mam's life was in this trunk, and I'd wanted to sift through her things at my leisure rather than watching Mab paw them. And Tibb believed there was something of great importance here. Something that Mab might discover at any moment.Mab now turned her attention back to the trunk, her eyes ranging greedily over its contents. There were jars and sealed bottles, each one labeled. Were they medicinal potions? Could there be something in there that might help Jack? Then there were lots of books of different sizes, all of them bound in leather. Some looked like diaries, and I wondered if Mam had written them. One especially large volume drew my eye and made me want to pick it up. Could it be a record of her life with Dad on the farm? Or even an account of her life before they met?There were also three large canvas bags tied at the neck with string. Mab lifted out one of these, and as she set it down on the floor, I heard the distinct clink of coins. Her eyes widened, and she hastily untied the string and plunged her hand into the bag. When she brought it out again, there was a glint of gold: Her hand was full of guineas."Must be a fortune here!" Mab said, her eyes almost bulging from their sockets with greed.Quickly she checked the remaining two bags; they too were full of gold coins --enough money to buy Jack's farm many times over.

 I'd never have guessed that Mam had so much money left."That's one bag each!" Beth exclaimed.This time Mab didn't contradict her sister. Her eyes had returned to the trunk. "Money's good to have," she said, "but I'd bet my life that there's something even better in here. Wonder if it's those books? Could be lots of knowledge here--spells and things. Wurmalde wanted these trunks badly. She wanted your mam's power. So there's got to be something in here well worth having!"She chose the largest of the books, the one that had intrigued me, and pulled it from the trunk, but when she opened it at a random page, she began to frown. As she flicked through, the frown became deeper."It's all in a foreign language!" she exclaimed. "Can't make head nor tail of it. Can you read this, Tom?" she demanded, thrusting the book toward me.I knew before I looked that it wouldn't be in Latin, because that was a language many witches were familiar with. It was Mam's book and, quite naturally, it was in her own language --Greek. The language she'd taught me from a very early age."No," I said, trying to sound convincing. "Can't make any sense of it at all . . ."

 But at that moment a small envelope fell out of the pages and spun to the floor. Mab stooped and picked it up, holding it out for me to see before tearing it open. To my youngest son, Thomas J. WardShe screwed up the envelope and tossed it away before unfolding the letter. She frowned again and held it out toward me."It's not good enough, Tom," she said with a sneer. "Getting into bad ways, you are. First you won't keep to a bargain, and now you're telling lies. Thought better of you. This letter's written in the same language as the book. Why would a mother write to her son in a language he didn't understand? Better tell me what it says. Otherwise the others won't be going anywhere --except to their graves!"I accepted the letter and began to read, the words as clear to me as if they were written in my own language.Dear Tom,This trunk was intended to be the first to yield to the keys.The other trunks can be opened only in moonlight and only by your own hand. Within them my sisters sleep, and only the kiss of the moon can restore them to wakefulness. Do not fear themThey will know that you are of my blood and will watch over you, if necessary giving their lives so that you mauylive.Soon the dark made flesh will walk the earth once more. Butyou are my own hopes made flesh and, whatever the cost in the short term, you have the will and strength to triumph in the end.just be true to your conscience and follow your instincts. Ihope that one day we will meet again, but whatever happens, remember that I will always be proud of you.Mam

MOONLIGHT WELL!

W
hat does it sayMab demanded.I hesitated, but I was thinking fast. Mam's sisters? What sort of sisters slept in trunks like these? And how long had they been there? Since Mam came to the County and married Dad all those years ago? She must have brought her sisters back with her from Greece! And I'd seen something very much like this before, back in Anglezarke. Lamias. There were two kinds of lamia witches--the domestic and the feral. The first category had been like Meg Skelton, the Spook's true love: identical to a human woman but for a line of green and yellow scales running the length of her back. The second type were like Meg's sister, Marcia: They scuttled about on four limbs, were covered in scales, and drank blood. Some could even fly short distances. Could it be that Mam was a lamia, domestic and benign? After all, Greece was the homeland of Meg and Marcia, too. The feral Marcia had been returned home in a coffin so as not to terrify the other passengers on the boat--the Spook had used a potion to make her sleep on the journey. He'd used the same potion to make Meg sleep for months at a time.Then I remembered how Mam used to go up to her special room once a month. She went alone, and I never asked what she did there. Had she been talking to her sisters, then putting them back to sleep in some way? I felt pretty sure that they must be feral lamias. Perhaps the two of them together would be a match for Mab and the other Mouldheels.

 "Come on, I'm waiting!" Mab snapped. "My patience is running out fast.""It says that the other trunks can only be opened in moonlight and that I must turn the key.""Does it say what's inside?""No hint at all, Mab," I lied. "But it must be something special and more valuable than what we've already found in this trunk. Otherwise they wouldn't be more difficult to get into."Mab looked at me suspiciously, so I kept talking to distract her. "What happened to the other, smaller boxes that were in Mam's room?" I demanded. There had been lots of other boxes, all taken by the witches who'd raided the farm."Oh, them. Heard they were full of rubbish --cheap brooches and ornaments, that's all. The Malkins shared em out among their clan." I shook my head sadly. "That's not right. They belonged to me. I had a right to see them.""Just feel lucky that you're still alive," Mab said."Will you let Alice and my family go now?" I pressed her."I'll think about it.""Jack's ill --he must have help. They need a horse and cart to get him to a doctor as quickly as possible. If he dies, I'll never open the trunks for you. Come on, Mab, keep your word. You've already got one trunk, and I'll open the other two tonight, as soon as the moon comes up. Please."

 Mab stared hard into my eyes for a moment, then turned to her sisters. "Go and tell the others to let them go."Jennet and Beth hesitated."He needs that cart, Mab. He can't walk," I persisted.Mab nodded. "Then he shall have it. Just see that you keep your word. Go on, jump to it!" she snapped, turning to her sisters. "And tell 'em to hurry those masons up!" "Masons?" I asked as Beth and Jennet left to do their sister's bidding."Masons to fix the wall. The Malkins are finished here. This tower belongs to us now. Times have changed. We rule Pendle now!"Within an hour a team of four masons had arrived and set to repairing the wall. The men seemed nervous and were clearly working under duress. They obviously wanted to get the job over and done with as quickly as possible and displayed great strength, energy, and dexterity in heaving the heavy stones back into position.Others from the clan went down the steps under orders to secure the lower regions of the tower.

 They were soon back, reporting that, as expected, the Malkins had left the lower dungeons and escaped through the tunnel. Mab gave orders for guards to stay down there on watch. When the Malkins found out that the soldiers had left the vicinity, they might try to return.Before nightfall the breach in the wall had been repaired, but Mab had one more job for the masons. She made them carry the two heavy locked trunks up the narrow steps and onto the battlements above. That done, they left hurriedly, and the drawbridge was lowered, sealing us within the tower.In addition to Mab and her sisters there were another ten witches, who made up the numbers of the coven. But there were also four older -women, whose job was to cook and carry for the rest. They made a thin potato and carrot soup, and despite the fact that the members of a -witch clan had made it, I accepted a plateful. But fearing poison or some potion that would place me under Mab's control, I checked that it was ladled from the same cooking pot as everyone else's. When they had started, I dunked bread into it and began to eat.After supper I would have liked to start sorting through Mam's trunk, but Mab would have none of it and ordered me to keep away.

  "You'll get your fill of them trunks before you're finished," she told me. "Months it's going to take you, to translate all those books." Soon after sunset, carrying a lantern, Mab led me up toward the battlements, Beth and Jennet at my heels. At the top of the steps we passed into another room with a wooden floor, in which the mechanism for controlling the drawbridge was housed. It consisted of a large wooden capstan wheel with a system of -wooden cogs and gears and a ratchet attached to a chain. Turning the -wheel would wrap the chain around it and raise the bridge.Beyond that we emerged onto the flagged battlements, which provided a good view on all sides. Pendle Hill rose high above the trees of Crow Wood and, because of the meadowland between the tower and the edge of those encircling trees, nobody could approach unseen. The gunners had gone off to war and now the tower was in the hands of the Mouldheels, theoretically unassailable. But then I glanced toward the trunks. Little did they know what waited within.As it grew dark, the lantern seemed to grow brighter. I knew that the moon would already be above the horizon, but there -was a stiff breeze from the west, driving low rainclouds across the sky. It might be some time before moonlight fell upon the trunks, if at all."Looks like rain, Mab," I told her. "Might have to wait until tomorrow night."