The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles) (2 page)

My friend Alice had disappeared three nights earlier. I had been talking to her in the garden and had left briefly to tell the Spook something, saying I’d be back in a few moments. On my return she had gone. At first I hadn’t been too worried, but then she’d missed supper and hadn’t reappeared since.

The Spook sighed. ‘Don’t take this too hard, lad, but maybe she’s gone for good. After all, you’ve been bound together for quite some time by the need to use that blood jar. Now she’s free to do as she pleases. And she’s a different person after being dragged off to the dark and held there for so long.’

My master’s words were harsh. Despite the fact that she had been helping us for years, he still didn’t trust Alice. She’d been born in Pendle and had spent two years being trained as a witch; John Gregory would be glad to see the back of her. When we were in Greece, Alice had created a blood jar to keep the Fiend at bay; otherwise we would both have been snatched away into the dark. Now it was no longer needed. We had bound the Fiend and cut off his head – which was now in the possession of Grimalkin, the witch assassin. She was on the run from his servants. Were the two halves of his body ever reunited, he would be free again and his vengeance would certainly be terrible. The consequences would be dire, not only
for
the County, but for the whole world beyond it; a new age of darkness would begin. But we had bought a little time in order to seek a way to destroy him permanently.

My master’s final words hurt me most of all. The Fiend had taken Alice off into the dark; on her return she’d changed dramatically. Her hair had turned white: that was merely physical, but I feared that her soul had been damaged – that she’d moved closer to the dark. Alice had expressed that same concern. Maybe she would never return? Maybe she could no longer be close to a spook’s apprentice? After four years of facing dangers together, we had become close friends and it saddened me that we were now drifting apart. I remembered something my dad had told me when I was younger. Although just an ordinary farmer, he’d been wise, and as I was growing up he’d taught me lots of truths about life.

‘Listen, Tom,’ he’d once said. ‘You have to accept that in this world things are constantly changing. Nothing stays the same for ever. We have to learn to live with that.’

He was right: I’d been happy living at home with my family. Now Mam and Dad were both dead and I could never go back to that life. I just hoped that my friendship with Alice wasn’t coming to an end too.

‘What sort of place is Todmorden?’ I asked, changing the subject. There was no point in arguing with my master about Alice.

‘Well, lad, my duties have never taken me to that town but I do know a bit about it. Todmorden straddles the eastern County border, which is marked by the river Calder. So half
the
town is in the County and half is beyond it. No doubt the folk across the river will have different customs and attitudes. We’ve travelled a bit in the past two years – firstly to Greece, next to the Isle of Mona, and finally to Ireland. Each of those lands presented us with new problems and difficulties to overcome. The fact that our destination isn’t far from home doesn’t change the fact that we need to be on our toes.’

The Spook’s library had been destroyed in the fire – the legacy of generations of spooks, filled with knowledge of how to fight the dark. Now we had heard of a collection of books about the dark in Todmorden. After ringing the bell at the withy trees crossroads late one night a week earlier, a mysterious visitor had left a note for us. It had been short but to the point:

Only one book from my master’s original library remained – the
Bestiary
that he had written and illustrated himself. It was more than just a book. It was a living, working document
annotated
by his other apprentices – including me. It was a record of his life’s work and what he had discovered with the help of others. Now he hoped to start restocking his library. However, he refused to take any books from the small collection in the watermill north of Caster that had been occupied by Bill Arkwright, one of his ex-apprentices. He had hopes that one day the mill would become a spook’s house once more; if that happened, the new incumbent would need those books. John Gregory anticipated that the visit to Todmorden would be the first step to replacing his own library.

My master had originally intended to set off right away but, as interested as he was in acquiring books, the rebuilding of his house came first, and he had spent hours going over plans and schedules with the builder. He had a list of priorities, and the completion of a new library to house books was one of them. I’d encouraged him in that because I wanted to delay our departure to give Alice time to return.

‘What’s the point of getting new books if we haven’t a library ready to put them in?’ I’d argued.

He’d agreed, and it had bought me more time, but at last we were off to meet Mistress Fresque.

In the afternoon, about an hour or so before we were to set off on our journey, I wrote a note of my own. This one was for the absent Alice:

But no sooner had I pinned it to the new back door than I suddenly sensed a coldness – the warning I sometimes get that something from the dark is nearby. Then I heard someone coming up behind me. My staff was leaning against the wall, so I snatched it up and spun round to face the danger, holding it in the defensive diagonal position.

To my surprise, Alice was standing before me. She was smiling but looked tired and dishevelled, as if she’d been on a long wearisome journey. The coldness quickly faded. She wasn’t an enemy, but that brief warning worried me. To what extent had she been contaminated by the dark? I wondered.

‘Alice! I’ve been really worried about you. Why did you leave like that without saying anything?’

She stepped forward and, without answering, gave me a hug. After a few moments I held her at arm’s length.

‘You look like you’ve had a hard time of it, but it’s really good to see you,’ I told her. ‘Your hair’s returning to its usual colour. It’ll be back to normal soon.’

Alice nodded, but the smile slipped from her face and she looked very serious. ‘I’ve something really important to tell you, Tom,’ she said. ‘It’s best if Old Gregory hears it too!’

I’d have liked a little more time to talk to Alice alone, but she
insisted
that we see my master immediately. I went to fetch him, and as it was a sunny afternoon, he led the way to the bench in the western garden.

The Spook and I sat down but Alice remained standing. I had to stop myself from laughing because it reminded me of the occasions when the Spook would stand there giving me a lesson while I took notes. Now my master and I were like two apprentices!

But what Alice had to say soon wiped the smile off my face.

‘While she was on the run with the Fiend’s head, Grimalkin took refuge in Malkin Tower,’ she told us. ‘It’s a long story, and no doubt she’ll eventually tell you the details of what happened herself—’

‘Is the Fiend’s head still safe in her possession?’ interrupted the Spook.

‘It’s been hard, but Grimalkin’s kept it safe so far. Ain’t going to get any easier, though. There’s some bad news. Agnes Sowerbutts was killed by the Fiend’s supporters.’

‘Poor Agnes,’ I said, shaking my head sadly. ‘I’m really sorry.’ She was Alice’s aunt and had helped both of us in the past.

‘One of the two lamia sisters was killed as well, and now only one – Slake – is left defending the tower. She’s under siege and can’t hold out indefinitely. From what Grimalkin said, it’s important that you go there as soon as possible, Tom. The lamias studied your mam’s books and found out that she was the one who hobbled the Fiend. Slake thinks that by looking more closely at the hobbling process you might be able to work out how to finish him off for good.’

The hobble had limited the Fiend’s power in certain ways. If he was able to kill me himself, he’d reign on in our world for a hundred years before being forced to return to the dark. Of course, for an immortal being, that wasn’t long enough. But if he got one of his children to do the deed, the son or daughter of a witch, then the Fiend could rule the world indefinitely. There was also a third way to achieve this end: he could simply convert me to the dark.

‘I always thought it was likely that Mam did the hobbling,’ I said. After all, I was her seventh son born to Dad, another seventh son, and thus her chosen weapon against the Fiend. The hobble concerned me, and which other of his enemies could have been powerful enough to do it?

The Spook nodded in agreement but didn’t look at all happy. Any use of magic made him very uneasy. At present an alliance with the dark was necessary but he didn’t like it.

‘I thought the same,’ said Alice. ‘But there’s one more thing, Tom. Whatever’s needed, whatever it takes, you have to do it at Halloween. There’s a seventeen-year cycle, and it’s got to be next Halloween – the thirty-fourth anniversary of the hobble carried out by your mam. That leaves little over five months  . . . ’

‘Well, lad,’ said the Spook, ‘you’d better get yourself to Malkin Tower as soon as possible. That’s more important than books for my new library. Our visit to Todmorden can wait until you get back.’

‘Aren’t you coming?’ I asked.

My master shook his head. ‘Nay, lad, not this time. At my
age
the County damp starts to rot your joints, and my old knees are playing up worse than I can remember. I’d only slow you down. With the girl to guide you, you’ll be able reach the tower without being seen. Besides, you’ve got years of training behind you now; it’s time you started to think and behave like the spook you’ll soon become. I have confidence in you, lad. I wouldn’t send you off like this if I didn’t think you could take care of yourself.’

AFTER THAT, I
spent an hour with the dogs. Claw and her fully grown pups, Blood and Bone, were wolfhounds trained to hunt water witches. They’d belonged to Bill Arkwright, a spook who had died fighting the dark with us in Greece. Now I considered them to be my dogs – although my master had still not agreed to give them a permanent home. While we were away he had promised to look after them, but I knew he was busy planning repairs to the house; moreover, his knees were playing up, so the dogs would no doubt spend most of their time chained up. I took them for a long walk, letting them run free.

Within an hour of my return we were setting off on our journey. We walked fast. Carrying my staff and bag, I followed
Alic
e east towards Pendle. Our aim was to arrive just before sunset, enter under cover of dark and then head directly for Malkin Tower.