A New Darkness (20 page)

“If it makes you feel better, I’m not much of a rider myself. Spooks prefer to journey on foot, but we’re traveling a long way, so we’ll be on horseback.”

Jenny was silent.

“I’ll tell you the truth,” I said eventually. “It will be dangerous. I feel that I must go, but you
could
stay here. You’d be safe enough, with the boggart to guard you. You could continue to develop your practical skills and work your way through the library, making notes. I might also be able to find someone else to train you for a while.”

Jenny didn’t appear too happy at the prospect.

“I’ll take you to meet another spook north of Caster, and then you can decide. I’m going to ask him to keep an eye on Chipenden while we’re away. It would mean extra work for him, but I’m sure he could deal with the most important spook’s business in both areas. Once you’ve met him, you might agree to him training you.”

Jenny’s face fell further at this.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Nothing . . . well, it’s just the thought of leaving Chipenden to travel to the far north. I like to travel—I’ve seen most of the County on my wanderings—but to sail overseas and see foreign lands is something I’ve only dreamed about. I’m not sure what to think, but I reckon I’d rather stay here. And I don’t want to be trained by anyone but you.”

“I’d rather stay here too, Jenny!” I told her. “I feel exactly the same, but I don’t really have much choice.”

So I spent another ten minutes spelling out the threat from the Kobalos and what their intention was: to kill all human males, boys and men, and then enslave all females. Then I reminded her about the varteki we’d faced and how those would be used against us.

“So you see, Jenny, I have to go. Anyway, keep an open mind until after you’ve met Judd.”

Jenny frowned again, but now that I’d made up my mind to help Grimalkin, I had no time to dawdle.

We traveled north over the fells, passing east of Caster and then continuing along the bank of the canal, which ran northward. I set a fast pace, for there was a real nip in the air now. Long before we reached Kendal, I headed west, leading Jenny along a path by a stream until we came to the edge of the shallow moat that surrounded the water mill.

It had once been a working mill, and then home to Spook Bill Arkwright. My master had sent me to work with him for a while; he wanted me to learn about water witches and other creatures of the dark that dwelled in that region. But Bill’s main task had been to toughen me up and give me combat training. He had certainly done that. I’d grown to like him, though, and still mourned his passing.

Judd Brinscall, another ex-apprentice of John Gregory, was the Spook in residence now. He had not impressed me on our first encounter: he had been threatened, his family in fear for their lives; under such duress, he’d betrayed my master. But later he had helped us, and my master had forgiven him. I’d not found his actions so easy to forget, but he had been useful since, and besides, he was the only other Spook I knew of nearby, the only one qualified to give me further training, something he’d promised to do.

Looking down at the moat, I turned to Jenny. “This is designed to keep water witches at bay,” I told her.

“If they’re water witches, why are they deterred by water?” Jenny asked, her face creased in puzzlement. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“In common with most types of witches, they don’t like salt,” I explained. “Every few days, Judd tips a few barrels into the moat. That keeps them out.”

“Are there a lot of water witches around here?” Jenny wondered.

“Yes, they’re drawn to the marsh,” I said, pointing toward it. The sun was setting, and a mist was coming in from the distant sea. “It’s an important place for water witches. It’s sacred to them in some way. So despite the presence of a spook and his dogs, they come here from time to time. Then Judd hunts them across the marsh. He covers a big area, ranging north of Morecambe Bay as far as the lakes, right to the northern County border.”

As I waded through the salted moat, I heard dogs barking, which meant that Judd was at home.

As the two animals bounded toward us, I felt Jenny flinch behind me. I didn’t blame her. They were big, fearsome wolfhounds.

They reached me before I came to the door, and I paused to pat them and to be licked in return. I was happy to see them, but sad as well. There were only two of them now, Blood and Bone. Their mother, Claw, had been killed at the Battle of the Wardstone, where my master had also died.

“Come inside!” a voice shouted. “It’s like the middle of winter out here!”

Judd was waiting at the door, and he greeted me warmly. However, I noticed that as we approached, he gave Jenny a strange look.

“This is my apprentice, Jenny,” I told him.

I watched his jaw drop in astonishment. I supposed I would have to get used to this sort of reaction.

Soon we were at his table, tucking into a supper of delicious cod. This close to the sea, there was always plenty of fresh fish available.

I’d recently communicated with Judd by letter, but it was the first time we’d met face-to-face since the battle, and I had a lot to tell him. I decided to delay that until after we’d eaten.

“How’s the hand, Judd?” I asked him. He’d lost two of his fingers at the Wardstone; they’d been bitten off by an enemy witch.

He held up his right hand and grimaced. “The soreness is gone, though the hand is still a little stiff. But we adapt, don’t we? I can’t do anything about it, so I just carry on as best I can. The truth is, I’d have given twice as many fingers if I could have Claw back. I hadn’t had her long, but I’d grown really attached to her.”

After that, we talked little as we ate, but Judd kept glancing at me and Jenny curiously; as soon as I’d cleared my plate and eased my chair away from the table, he pointed to the stairs.

“Your room is on the first floor, the second on the left, young lady,” he told Jenny. “There are fresh sheets and pillowcases in the cupboard on the landing. You look tired, so you’d best get up to bed.”

Jenny didn’t argue, as I expected her to, and with a nod to us both, she left the table and set off up the stairs. She’d been unusually quiet since we arrived at the mill; she hadn’t spoken at all during the meal. I wondered if she was sickening for something.

“So, Tom . . . ,” Judd began. “How are you coping with work as the Chipenden Spook? Have you come to ask for help? If so, I’d only be too glad. I’ve neither the skill nor the knowledge of poor John Gregory, but I’m sure I’ve plenty to contribute to your training.”

It annoyed me that Judd used the word “poor” about my master. He wasn’t to be pitied: he’d died fighting the dark and had been a champion of the light all his life. It was the way he’d have chosen to leave this life. But I realized that Judd didn’t really intend anything by the comment, so I let it pass.

“It’s been very quiet at Chipenden,” I told him. “The dark seems almost dormant.”

“It’s been the same here, too,” Judd said. “I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of a water witch for over a month. And the recent plague of skelts is well and truly over.”

At this, I remembered the night I’d faced a dangerous skelt outside this very mill; it had thrust its long bone tube into my neck and tried to drink my blood. I’d been lucky to escape with my life.

I concentrated on what Judd said next.

“It’s been almost too quiet . . . it feels as if the dark is gathering its strength.”

“That could well be the case,” I told him.

“So has anything else strange happened since you wrote—apart from the fact that you’ve taken on a girl apprentice, that is?”

I ignored his jibe and began my account. “When I wrote, I told you what I’d learned about the threat from the Kobalos, but it seems that they might launch their attack on the County a lot sooner than I expected. One of the Kobalos, a haizda mage, was here. It had built a lair in a tree less than an hour’s journey from Chipenden. It killed three girls before I realized what I was dealing with. The beast’s dead now, but there could well be others.”

I went into more detail, describing exactly what had happened and Jenny’s part in it all. At the first mention of her name, Judd raised his eyebrows. But I finished my story, concluding with Grimalkin’s investigation of the lair of the dead mage. I told him about her experiments and the varteki we’d encountered. After that, Judd was silent for a long time.

“Without that sword, it would have been the end of you,” he said at last. “Perhaps you could ask the witch assassin to make one for me too. If I ever come up against one of those Kobalos mages, my staff wouldn’t be much use.”

“I can’t tell how effective a staff might be. I’d left mine with the girl, so I never got a chance to use it. But you’re correct: such a mage uses powerful dark magic. Though it wouldn’t be easy for Grimalkin to craft another sword like mine. It’s not just infused with her magic—she forged it from a piece of ore that fell from the sky.”

“From a meteorite?”

“Yes, and a very rare one, too. We need to find other ways to deal with such a mage. Hopefully Grimalkin will come up with something.”

“I’m surprised you took that girl on as an apprentice,” Judd said suddenly, changing the subject. “She hung around here for days awhile back, begging that I do the same. Eventually I had to set the dogs on her. It was the only way to be rid of her. You should have seen her run! One of the dogs tore off a piece of her skirt!”

No wonder she had been reluctant to come here. I was learning that Jenny kept things to herself and told you little unless you asked outright. It was cruel of Judd to have set the wolfhounds on her—Jenny hadn’t deserved that. I remember how scared I’d been of such big, fierce hunting dogs when I’d first met them. But what was done was done, and I saw no point in antagonizing Judd by bringing him to task for it.

I shrugged. “I suppose I felt guilty about underestimating that mage. Because of that, I almost got her killed.”

“Well, you’d be better off without her. For one thing, you’ve still a lot to learn yourself without the added responsibility of an apprentice. Even if she really
is
the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, there’s no precedent for a woman becoming a spook.”

“There has to be a first time for everything,” I said, starting to feel angry again. “And I stand by my decision. She had the guts to face up to the ghasts on Hangman’s Hill. I’m sure she’ll make a go of things.”

“It won’t work, Tom. I never dreamed you’d be daft enough to take on a girl. What would John Gregory have said?”

I shrugged. “Times are changing, Judd, and we have to change with them. Let me come to the main reason for my visit. I’m going north with Grimalkin to visit the kingdoms that border the Kobalos lands. We’re going to try and learn what we can about our new enemies—I’ll be away for two months or so. Would you be prepared to visit Chipenden and deal with the worst manifestations of the dark there? I know it’s asking a lot for you to manage two large areas, but I’ve nobody else I can turn to.”

“You’re not leaving the girl behind for me to look after, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, she’s traveling with me,” I told him. After what Judd had just said, I didn’t want Jenny to have to stay with him. Whether she wanted to leave the County or not, she’d surely rather be out of his way.

“Well, in that case, as things are relatively quiet for the time being, I’d be only too happy to help out, Tom,” he said with a smile. “A girl apprentice . . . I never thought I’d see the day!”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

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23

The Scream of the Boggart

O
N
our journey back to Chipenden, I spoke to Jenny about Judd. After his treatment of her, she was understandably reluctant to stay at home if he was to be there.

“I assume that you don’t want to stay behind with Judd when I travel north?”

“I certainly don’t!” Jenny replied with some force.

“I gathered as much. He told me about setting the dogs on you. Judd was wrong to do that, and I understand your anger. And he won’t stay at the mill. He’ll be visiting Chipenden to keep an eye on things. So even there you’d sometimes be in his company. So are you happy to travel north with us?”

“I’m not happy at all!” she replied. “The thought of it makes me nervous, but it’s for the best. I’ll just have to get used to the idea.”

There was no sign of Grimalkin when we crossed the western garden. No doubt she had gone off to make preparations for our journey.

The first night back, I was awakened in the early hours by a terrible scream. It was so loud that it rattled the lower window sash. It was a scream of rage that I knew well, and it came from nearby.

The boggart was challenging an intruder.

I climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. While I was pulling on my socks, the boggart screamed out its challenge for the second time. I knew that it would give three warnings before attacking. It always kept to the rules we had agreed.

It gave its third warning while I was hastily lacing up my boots.