Witchfall (27 page)

As I watched them together, and saw her white hand resting on his, a flash of jealousy split my heart in two. I imagined him with Elizabeth in her candlelit bedchamber tonight, her ladyship in nothing but her thin nightshift, and Alejandro sitting intimately by her curtained bed, perhaps even on the bed itself, his silver crucifix dangling about his neck as he bent to kiss his princess goodnight.

Savagely, I stabbed at a dripping slice of pork with my knife and dragged it to my trencher. Then I pinched rather more salt than was necessary and sprinkled it across the meat.

‘Careful,’ Richard murmured, watching me from across the board. His foot brushed mine under the table – perhaps accidentally, perhaps deliberately – but he did not break the contact. ‘Too much salt can burn the tongue.’

‘I don’t care,’ I replied shortly, and caught Alejandro’s frowning look. Let him stare. Let him spend the night beside Elizabeth in a darkened bedchamber, whispering prayers into the darkness. It was none of my affair.

But guilt seized and shook me. The Lady Elizabeth was my mistress, and had always tried to keep me safe from Marcus Dent and the priests who might have tortured me until I died. If she was suffering each night from these evil visitations, it was my fault alone. It was I who had unleashed this horrific shadow-thing upon the world, after all. And was this how I repaid her kindness and patronage? With anger in my heart because she had asked Alejandro for his prayers?

John, the old retainer, came into the hall with a heavy armful of logs for the fire. As he crashed them down onto the stone hearth, I raised my head and looked broodingly across at Richard.

‘It should be tonight,’ I mouthed at him over the noise.

Now it was Richard’s turn to frown. He put down his knife. ‘Tonight?’ he mouthed back silently.

‘The summoning.’

His eyes widened and he looked cautious. ‘But the stars . . . I moth result the books first.’

I hesitated, unsure what he meant. ‘Pardon?’ I mouthed back at him.

‘I moth result the books,’ he repeated.

Utterly perplexed, I screwed up my face, throwing my hands wide in a bewildered gesture that meant, ‘I have no
idea what you are saying to me,’ and only then realized that everyone at the table was staring.

‘Something you wish to share with us, Meg?’ the Lady Elizabeth demanded icily.

I straightened, my cheeks flushing, and saw Alejandro’s fixed stare move from my face to Richard’s. I did not know what to say, for it was hardly safe to discuss our planned summoning before this company, not when my brother was not entirely privy to everything, and certainly not with the Hatfield servants waiting on us at table.

‘Forgive me, my lady,’ I stammered. ‘I was being foolish, that is all.’

But Elizabeth was no longer listening to me. She was staring beyond me, at the far end of the table. She dropped her knife with a clatter. Her cheeks, always pale, grew even whiter until I thought she would faint. Then her hand raised, pointing into the shadows past the table. ‘Who . . .
what
is . . . that?’

I turned, and my heart clenched in fear.

The shadow creature was there, standing a few feet from the end of the table. No, not standing, but hovering. It looked more and more like a man every time I saw it. As I stared, horrified, its bloated shadowy form began to move inexorably towards us.

The Lady Elizabeth stood, her chair scraping noisily as the creature seemed to darken, rising into the air above the table.

‘No!’ she cried, and crossed herself feverishly. ‘Begone, foul fiend! Back to Hell whence you came!’

Even the old hound seemed to have sensed that something was wrong. Rufus leaped up from his place beside the hearth and stood stiffly, legs apart, barking into the shadows beyond the table.

The bench fell backwards with a crash as Alejandro sprang to his feet, staring about the hall as though expecting some hellish creature to leap on us at any moment. It was clear he could not see the spirit.

William had fallen with the bench but struggled to his feet now, his expression perplexed. He drew his dagger, perhaps thinking we were under attack. ‘What in God’s name . . .?’

Backing away in a crouch, Richard looked at me. ‘Is it the spirit?’ When I nodded, he asked, ‘Where is it now?’

I lifted a trembling finger and pointed.

From his vantage point at the hearth, the old retainer was staring at us, then into the shadows, his brow wrinkled. It was clear that he could see nothing either, but thought perhaps that the Lady Elizabeth had lost her mind.

Blanche had seen the old man staring at us too. Urgently, she waved her hand at him, hissing, ‘What are you staring at? Leave us!’

Not waiting to be told twice, John nodded and hurried away, dragging the dog with him. No doubt he was glad to be free of such a deranged company.

Elizabeth’s hand shook as she gestured Alejandro to her side. ‘Speak your name, creature, if you possess the power of speech.’

But the black shadow-thing merely laughed at this command. Its laugh filled the hall, deep and repellent, echoing off the walls and ceiling. The room was suddenly colder, the damp rushes underfoot more noticeable, even the smell of the roast pork unappetising now, as though the shadow’s presence tainted everything. The fire itself seemed to darken as the creature rose, undulating across the table towards the princess in a mass of ragged black ribbons, their ends coiling upwards like smoke.

Alejandro took the silver crucifix on its chain from about his neck and held it up like a weapon – or a shield.

‘You are not welcome here, demon!’ he called in a clear voice, looking about himself as though hoping to find the spirit visible to him. ‘Quit this place and get back to Hell where you belong.’

Again, the shadow laughed. Then it grew huge, spreading further and further, until the hall seemed dense with smoke, and I could no longer see Alejandro’s face. But I could hear him calling aloud in Latin, only a few feet from me, commanding the creature to leave.

I felt the heat of the fire at my back, but could not see it, nor my hand before my face, the place was so thick with darkness. Then I heard someone close by begin to whisper in my ear, a terrible hissing that got inside my head and left me
dizzy. It was like a fly that would not leave me alone, my scalp tingling, the hairs rising on the back of my neck as I tried to bat it away.

‘Meg!’

It was the princess’s voice. But where was she? I stared wildly about, seeing nothing but a grey wall of coiling smoke. It was like dust in my throat, grit in my eyes. I staggered back, coughing, half blinded, helpless to find the Lady Elizabeth. I heard her voice again, but it was no use. I could not see her, nor Alejandro, nor any of the others . . .

Clasping my hands in despair, my fingers met the small leather thong wound about my wrist. My charm-stone!

I unlooped the charm-stone and held it up, still unable to see anything in the dense smoky darkness. I thought of Aunt Jane, her quiet strength, her knowledge of the forests and fields, her understanding of the spirits, and willed her spirit to be with me in this banishing.

‘Depart!’ I cried, not expecting it to work but hoping.

Miraculously, in an instant, the smoky darkness was gone and we were left standing in the Great Hall like fools, the fire burning bright at my back, illuminating our stunned faces.

William was still crouched, dagger in hand, staring about himself in search of his unseen enemy. Alice stood by his side, white-faced and still. I could see she did not know what to make of any of this but, brave girl, had chosen not to run but to stay with us. Richard was near the windows, his face turned to the wall. He shook himself and stared
around, blinking as though his sight had just been restored.

Alejandro was guarding the Lady Elizabeth, crucifix raised before him, his duty always to the princess. Blanche was kneeling near the stairs, her head in her hands; when she saw the smoky darkness in the hall was gone, she gave a low moaning cry and struggled to her feet.

‘My lady,’ she managed croakily, and hurried to her mistress, crossing herself frantically. ‘Are you hurt? All that terrible smoke . . . Lord love us, what was it?’

The Lady Elizabeth shook her head, staring past her lady-in-waiting at me. ‘What did you do, Meg?’ she asked in a low voice. Her gaze dropped to the charm-stone. ‘Was it the white stone? Did you destroy it with that?’

I shook my head, and sank to the bench, my strength almost gone now that the moment of need was over, not caring that I should not sit while the princess was still on her feet.

‘It’s not destroyed, my lady, though gone for now. When it returns, it will have found a way to master me . . . and this.’ I wound the charm-stone about my forearm again, and dragged down my sleeve to hide it. ‘The spirit is cunning. It will discover a counterspell to my aunt’s charm-stone, just as it has found a way to sidestep other forms of banishment.’

Alejandro nodded, tight-lipped, and hung the crucifix about his neck again. ‘Yes, the cross had no power over it.’ His dark eyes sought mine. ‘You are unharmed?’

‘I feel as though I have been disembowelled with a spoon,’ I muttered, ‘but otherwise, yes.’

The Lady Elizabeth was impatient. ‘But are we to expect another visitation tonight?’

‘We should be safe enough now.’

‘Good,’ the Lady Elizabeth said decisively, and sat down again at the head of the table. With a brisk snap of her fingers, she signalled the others to return to their seats. ‘Come, do not stand about the place amazed. You heard what Meg said. Are we cowards here, or stout-hearted Englishmen and women?’ She pointed with her dagger to a dish of devilled kidneys. ‘Blanche, my appetite has returned. I’ll take some of that, and a goodly slice of pork. Señor de Castillo, more wine if you please.’

‘My lady,’ Alejandro murmured, and brought the flagon to pour more into her cup. His gaze was frankly admiring as he bowed. ‘
La princesa con la corazon valiente
. You have a courageous heart, my lady.’

I tried not to let my jealousy show, but smiled instead at Richard as he passed me the platter of greasy slices of pork. ‘Thank you.’

His smile was lopsided. ‘I was not much help to you just then, was I? Forgive me. I was stumbling about like a fool, my head in a daze.’

‘There is nothing to forgive,’ I told him, seeing the bitterness and self-loathing in his eyes. He was too quick to condemn himself. ‘The spirit rules by fear, that is its power. We were all in a daze.’

‘Not you,’ Richard pointed out.

I touched my sleeve where the charm-stone was hidden. ‘But without this, the power my aunt left me, I should have been lost too.’

The Lady Elizabeth had been listening to this exchange. She put down her cup of wine and looked at me sharply. ‘Master Dee’s apprentice is right, Meg. You alone of us kept your head. But tonight’s visitation proves one thing beyond any doubt. The Church cannot control this evil.’ Her gaze flashed to Alejandro’s face, perhaps sensing his instinctive denial. ‘No, señor, you had your chance with the holy cross, and its power only seemed to increase tenfold at the sight of it. Yet it heeded Meg’s command and fled. How much more evidence do we need that she should be the one to exorcize this creature, not a priest?’

‘My lady, it is too dangerous—’ Alejandro began, but she held up her hand, silencing him with an imperious gesture.

‘Dee’s apprentice will prepare her. There will be no danger if it is done properly. No, the thing is decided.’ The Lady Elizabeth looked at me coldly. ‘Master Dee seems to think you summoned this horror into our lives, Meg Lytton. So tomorrow you will send it back to Hell, if you please – or else live to feel my displeasure.’

I felt curiously empty and light-headed as Richard led me by the hand through the darkening woods to a place he had prepared. Looking up through the yellowing leaves, I caught occasional glimpses of the sky, cloudy this evening and already flushed with the coming sunset. The air felt close and troubled, as though a storm was on its way, a fine sweat trickling down my back under my gown.

Dee’s apprentice had sat for some hours that morning, consulting his master’s ephemeris and magickal books, then finally announced that ‘one hour after sundown’ that day would be the best time for the summoning of hostile spirits. Yet his mood had grown steadily more sombre as the day progressed, for the more he read in those ancient grimoires, the darker the outcome seemed to be.

All day I had fasted, taking nothing but a few sips of boiled water and honey at noon, according to the detailed instructions left by Master Dee. Now my body was like a hollowed-out reed, waiting only to be played upon by the powers that I knew lay all around us.

About ten minutes’ walk from the house, we reached a narrow clearing amongst the trees. Here Richard dropped my hand and unswung the leather pack from his shoulder,
setting it on the ground. Unfastened, it fell open to reveal an array of magickal objects: black feathers, tapering hazel and ash wands, small crystals, a rusty old nail with red thread wound about it, some small squares of parchment with arcane figures in boxes scrawled across them, and a collection of tiny brownish bones in a cloth bag which he drew out, selecting a few and weighing them thoughtfully in his palm. Some of these objects he placed on a large flat stone he had designated as an altar, arranging them according to a diagram in one of Dee’s books, which he kept consulting as he knelt before the altar, his expression distracted. Others he replaced in the pack, and a few – such as the knotted cord they had used to bind my wrists last time, and the blindfold – he laid to one side.

I stood watching, not wishing to distract him during these preparations. Then finally, unable to contain myself any longer, I asked, ‘Why must the summoning take place outside?’

Richard glanced at me sideways. ‘Believe it or not, it’s safer this way.’

‘Safer for whom?’

‘For everyone,’ he said drily.

Without bothering to elaborate on that point, Richard set a horn-cup and a fat black candle on the altar, to the right of the scattered bones, then turned to rummage in his pack for the tinderbox.