Spook's Curse (11 page)

‘pressed’ all right. If the Bane found me, that would surely be my fate too.

I moved on quickly, glad to leave that terrible sight behind, and at last I came to the foot of a flight of stone steps that led up to a wooden door. If Brother Peter was right, behind that was the wine cellar of the priests’ house.

I climbed to the top of the steps and used the Spook’s key. A moment later I was easing the door open. Once inside the cellar, I closed it behind me but didn’t lock it.

The cellar was very large, with huge barrels of ale and row upon row of dusty wine racks filled with bottles, some of which had clearly been there a long time - they were covered with spiders’ webs. It was deadly silent down here, and unless somebody was hiding and watching me, it seemed completely deserted. Of course, the candle only illuminated the small area around me and beyond the nearest barrels was a darkness that could have hidden anything.

Before he’d left Andrew’s house Brother Peter had told me that the priests only came down into the cellar once a week to collect the wine they needed, and that most of them wouldn’t dream of going down into the catacombs because of the Bane. But he couldn’t promise the same for the Quisitor’s men: they weren’t local and didn’t know enough to be fearful. Not only that; they’d help themselves to the ale and probably wouldn’t be content with just one barrel.

I crossed the length of the cellar cautiously, pausing every ten strides or so to listen. At last I could see the door that led to the corridor and there, in the ceiling to the left, right up against the wall, was a large wooden hatch. We had a similar hatch back home. Our farm had once been called ‘Brewer’s Farm’

because it had supplied ale to neighbouring taverns and farms. As Brother Peter had explained, this trapdoor was used to get barrels and crates in and out of the cellar without the bother of going through the presbytery. And he was right in saying that it would be the easiest way of escaping. If I did use it I’d certainly run the risk of being spotted, but going back towards the Silver Gate would mean possibly facing the Bane, and after being locked up the Spook wouldn’t be strong enough to deal with it. Not only that, there was the Spook’s curse to think about. Whether he believed in it or not, it wasn’t worth tempting fate.

There were big barrels of ale standing on end directly under the hatch. Resting the candle on one and setting the staff to one side, I climbed up onto another and was able to reach the lock, which was set into the wooden hatch so that it could be locked or unlocked from either side. It was simple enough and the Spook’s key worked again, but I left the hatch closed for now in case someone spotted it from above.

I unfastened the door to the corridor just as easily, turning the key very slowly so as not to make any noise. It made me realize how lucky the Spook was to have a locksmith for a brother.

Next I eased open the door and stepped through into a long, narrow, flagged corridor. It was deserted, but about twenty steps ahead, on the right, I could see a flickering torch in a wall bracket above a closed door. It had to be the guardroom that Brother Peter had warned me about. Further down the corridor was a second door, and beyond it stone steps that must lead up to the rooms above.

I walked slowly down the corridor towards the first door, almost on tiptoe and keeping to the shadows. Once close to the guardroom, I could hear sounds coming from within. Somebody coughed, somebody laughed and there was the murmur of voices.

Suddenly my heart was set racing. I’d heard a deep voice very close to the door but before I could hide, the door was flung open with some force. It almost hit me but I stepped back behind it quickly and flattened myself against the rough stones of the wall. Heavy boots stepped out into the corridor.

‘I must get back to my work,’ said a voice that I recognized. It was the Quisitor and he was talking to someone who was standing just inside the doorway!

‘Send someone to collect Brother Peter,’ he continued, ‘and have him brought to me when I’ve finished with the other. Father Cairns may have lost us a prisoner but he knew who was to blame, I’ll say that for him. And at least he had the good sense to report it to me. Bind our good brother’s hands tightly behind his back, and don’t be gentle. Make the cord cut into his flesh so that he knows exactly what he’s facing! It’ll be more than a few harsh words, you can be sure of that. Hot irons’ll soon loosen his tongue!’

By way of answer there came a burst of loud, cruel laughter from the guards. Then the Quisitor’s long black cloak billowed out behind him in the draught as he closed the door and walked quickly towards the steps at the far end of the corridor.

If he turned round he’d see me right away! For a moment I thought he was going to stop outside the prisoners’ cell, but to my relief he continued up the steps and out of sight.

Poor Brother Peter. He was going to be questioned but there was no way I could warn him. And I’d been the prisoner the Quisitor had referred to. They were going to torture him because he’d let me go free! And not only that - Father Cairns had told the Quisitor about me. Now that he had the Spook, the Quisitor would probably come looking for me too.

I had to rescue my master before it was too late for both of us.

I almost made a big mistake then and moved down the corridor towards the cell; however, just in time I realized that the Quisitor’s order would be carried out immediately. Sure enough, the guardroom door opened again and two men came out brandishing clubs and strode away towards the steps.

When the door was again closed from within, I was in full view but my luck held once more and the guards didn’t turn round. After they’d climbed up the steps and out of sight, I waited for a few moments until the echo of their distant boots had faded away and my heart had stopped pounding so loudly. It was then that I heard other voices from the cell ahead. Someone was crying; another chanted in prayer. I rushed towards the sound until I reached a heavy metal door, its top third formed of vertical metal bars.

I held the candle right up close to the bars and peered inside. In the flickering light the cell looked really bad but smelled even worse. There were about twenty people cramped into that small space.

Some were lying on the floor and seemed to be asleep. Others were sitting with their backs against the wall. A woman was standing close to the door and it was her voice that I’d heard. I’d assumed she was praying but she was chanting gibberish and her eyes were rolling in her head as if what she’d gone through had driven her insane.

I couldn’t see the Spook and I couldn’t see Alice but that didn’t mean they weren’t inside. These were the prisoners all right. The prisoners of the Quisitor, ready for burning.

Wasting no time, I laid down the staff, unlocked the door and opened it slowly. I wanted to go in and look for the Spook and Alice, but even before the door was fully open the woman who’d been chanting moved forward and blocked my way.

She shouted something out, spitting her words into my face. I couldn’t understand what she said but it was so loud it made me glance back towards the guardroom. Within seconds, others were at her back, pushing her forwards and out into the corridor. There was a girl to her left, no more than a year older than Alice. She had big brown eyes and a kind face, so I appealed to her.

‘I’m looking for someone,’ I said, my voice hardly more than a whisper.

Before I could say anything else, she opened her lips wide as if to speak, revealing two rows of teeth, some broken, others black with decay. Instead of words,, loud wild laughter erupted from her throat and she immediately set off an uproar from the others around her. These people had been tortured and had spent days or even weeks under the threat of death. It was no good appealing to reason or asking for calm. Fingers jabbed at me and a big, gangling man with long limbs and wild eyes grabbed my left hand hard and began to pump it up and down in gratitude.

‘Thank you! Thank you!’ he cried, and his grip became so tight that I thought he would crunch my bones.

I managed to snatch my hand free, picked up the staff and retreated a few steps. Any moment now the guards would hear the commotion and come out into the corridor to investigate. What if the Spook and Alice weren’t in that cell? What if they were being held somewhere else?

It was too late now because, pushed roughly from behind, I was already retreating past the guardroom, and a few seconds more brought me to the door of the wine cellar. I glanced back and saw a line of people following me. At least nobody was shouting now but there was still too much noise for my liking. I just hoped that the guards had been drinking heavily. They’d probably be used to noise from the prisoners; they wouldn’t be expecting a breakout.

Once inside the wine cellar, I climbed up onto a barrel and balanced there, while I quickly pushed the hatch upwards. Through the open hatch I glimpsed a stone buttress of the cathedral’s outer wall and there was a rush of cool air and dampness on my face. It was raining hard.

Other people were clambering up onto the barrels.

The man who’d thanked me elbowed me aside roughly and started to pull himself up through the hatch. Moments later he was out, holding a hand down towards me, offering to pull me up.

‘Come on!’ he hissed.

I hesitated. I wanted to see if the Spook and Alice had got out of the cell. Then it was too late because a woman had clambered up onto the barrel beside me and was raising her arms towards the man who, without a moment’s hesitation, gripped her wrists and pulled her up through the open hatch.

After that I’d missed my chance. There were others, some almost fighting amongst themselves in their desperation to get out. Not everyone was like that though. Another man pushed a barrel onto its side and rolled it against the upright one to form a step that made it easier to climb. He helped an old woman up and steadied her legs while the man above gripped her wrists and drew her slowly upwards.

Prisoners were getting out through the hatch, but others were still coming through the door into the wine cellar and I kept glancing towards them, hoping that one would be the Spook or Alice.

A thought suddenly struck me. What if one of them was too ill or weak to move and hadn’t been able to leave the cell?

I had no choice. I had to go back and see. I jumped down from the barrel, but it was too late: a shout, then angry voices. Boots thundering along the corridor. A big burly guard pushed into the cellar brandishing a cudgel. He looked around and, with a bellow of anger, rushed directly towards me.

W
ithout a second’s hesitation I grabbed the staff and blew out the candle, plunging the cellar into darkness, and moved quickly in the direction of the door that led down into the catacombs.

There was a terrible commotion behind: shouts, screams and the sounds of a struggle. Glancing back, I saw another of the guards carrying a torch into the cellar, so I slipped behind the wine racks, keeping them between me and the light as I headed for the door in the far wall.

I felt terrible leaving the Spook and Alice behind. To have come this far and still be unable to rescue them left me feeling wretched. I only hoped that somehow in the confusion they’d managed to get out.

They could both see well in the dark and if 
I
 could manage to find the door to the catacombs, so could they. I sensed some of the prisoners moving with me, away from the guards into the dark recesses of the cellar. A few seemed to be in front of me. Perhaps amongst them were my master and Alice but I couldn’t risk calling out and alerting the guards. As I picked my 
way
 through the wine racks, ahead of me I thought I saw the door to the catacombs open and close quickly but it was too dark to be sure.

A few moments later and I was through the door. The instant I closed it behind me I was plunged into a darkness so intense that, for a 
few
 seconds, I couldn’t see my hand before my face. I stood there 
at
 
the top
 of the steps, waiting desperately for my eyes to adjust.

As soon as I could make out the steps, I went down carefully and moved along the tunnel as quickly as I could, aware that, eventually, someone would probably check the door: I hadn’t locked it behind me just in 
case
 Alice or the Spook were close behind.

I’m usually good at seeing in the dark but in those catacombs it seemed to be getting darker and darker so I came to a halt and tugged the tinderbox out of my jacket pocket. I knelt down and shook a small pile of tinder out onto the stones. Quickly I used the stone and metal to create a spark and a few seconds later I’d managed to light my candle.

With candlelight to guide me I made better progress but the air around me grew colder with every step, and not far ahead I could see sinister flickerings on the wall. Again, white luminous shapes were moving in and out of the shadows but there were now far more than last time. The dead were gathering.

My previous walk along the tunnels had disturbed them.

I stopped. What was that? Somewhere in the distance I’d heard the howl of a dog. I came to a halt, my heart pounding. Was it a real dog or could it be the Bane? Andrew had mentioned a huge black dog with ferocious teeth. A huge dog that was really the Bane. I tried to tell myself it was a real dog I was hearing, one that had somehow found its way down into the catacombs. After all, if a cat could do it, why not a dog?

The howl came again, and it hung in the air for a long time, echoing and reverberating down the long tunnels. Was it ahead of me or behind? In this tunnel or another one? It was impossible to say. But with the Quisitor and his men behind me I had no choice but to keep moving towards the gate.

So I walked quickly, shivering with cold, skirting the pressed cat, till I reached the point where the forked tunnels merged. At last I rounded a corner and saw the Silver Gate. There I halted, my knees beginning to shake, my mind afraid to go on. For ahead, in the darkness beyond the candle flame, someone was waiting for me. A shadowy figure was sitting on the floor near the gate, its back against the wall, its head bowed forward. Could it be an escaped prisoner? Someone who’d got through the door before me?

I couldn’t go back, so I took a few steps towards the gate and held the candle higher. A bearded face turned to me.

‘What kept you?’ called out a voice I recognized. ‘I’ve been waiting here five minutes already!’

It was the Spook, alive and well! I rushed forward, filled with relief that he’d managed to escape.

There was an ugly bruise over his left eye and his mouth was swollen. He’d clearly been beaten.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked anxiously.

‘Aye, lad. Give me a few more moments to get my breath back and I’ll be right as rain. Just get that gate open and we’ll soon be on our way.’

‘Was Alice with you?’ I asked. Were you in the same cell?’

‘No, lad. Best forget all about her. She’s no good. Nowt but trouble and there’s nothing we can do to help her now.’ His voice sounded cruel and hard. ‘She deserves what’s coming to her.’

‘Burning?’ I asked. ‘You’ve never held with burning a witch, let alone a young girl, and you told Andrew yourself that she’s innocent.’

I was shocked. He’d never trusted Alice but it hurt me to hear him talk that way, especially as he’d faced such a terrible fate himself. And what about Meg? He hadn’t always been so cold and heartless ...

‘For goodness’ sake, lad, are you dreaming or awake?’ the Spook demanded, his voice full of annoyance and impatience. ‘Come on, snap out of it! Get the key and open that gate.’

When I hesitated, he held out his hand towards me. ‘Give me my staff, lad. I’ve been in that damp cell far too long and my old bones are aching tonight...’

I reached out to hand it to him, but as his fingers began to close around it, I suddenly backed away in horror.

It wasn’t just the sudden shock of his hot, foul-smelling breath searing up into my face. It was because he was holding out his right hand towards me! His right hand, not his left!

It wasn’t the Spook! This wasn’t my master!

As I watched, frozen to the spot, his hand dropped back to his side then, like a snake, began to writhe towards me over the cobbles. Before I could move, his arm slithered and stretched to twice its normal length and his hand closed upon my ankle, holding it in a tight, painful grip. My immediate reaction was to try and drag it away from his dreadful grasp, but I knew that wasn’t the way. I kept perfectly still.

I tried to concentrate. I gripped the staff and tried to curb my fear, remembered to breathe. I was terrified, but although my body wasn’t moving, my mind was. There was only one explanation and it made me shudder with terror: I was facing the Bane!

Forcing myself to focus, I studied the thing before me carefully, looking hard for anything that might help me in the slightest way. It looked just like the Spook and sounded like him too. It was impossible to tell the difference, but for the snaking hand.

After watching for a few seconds I felt a little better. It was a trick the Spook had taught me: when face to face with our greatest fears we should concentrate hard and leave our feelings behind.

‘Gets them every time, lad!’ he’d once told me. ‘The dark feeds on fear, and with a calm mind and an empty belly the battle’s half won before you even start.’

And it was working. My body had stopped shaking and I felt calmer, almost relaxed.

The Bane released my ankle and the hand slithered back to its side. The creature stood up and took a step towards me. As it did so I heard a curious noise: not the sound of boots I was expecting, more like the scratching of huge claws against the cobbles. The Bane’s movement disturbed the air too, so that the candle flame flickered, distorting the shadow of the Spook cast against the Silver Gate.

Quickly I knelt and placed the candle and the staff on the floor between us. An instant later I was on my feet, my hands in each of my breeches pockets, grabbing a fistful of salt and one of iron.

‘ 
Wasting your time, you are,’
 said the Bane, its voice suddenly nothing like the Spook’s at all. Harsh and deep, it reverberated through the very rocks of the catacombs, vibrating up through my boots and setting my teeth on edge. 
‘Old tricks like that won’t get me. Been around too long, I have, to be hurt
 
by that! Your master, Old Bones, tried it once but it did him no good. No good at all.’

I hesitated, but only for a moment. It might just be lying - anything was worth a try. But then, amongst the iron filings, my left hand closed upon something hard. It was the small key to the Silver Gate. I couldn’t risk losing that.

‘Ahhh ... got what I need, you have,’
 said the Bane with a sly smile.

Had it read my mind? Or perhaps just read the expression on my face, or maybe guessed? Either way, it knew too much.

‘Look,’
 it said, a crafty look on its face, 
‘if Old Bones couldn’t fix me then what chance have you?

No chance at all! Down here they’ll come, and be searching for you soon. Can’t you hear the
 
guards now? Burn, you will! Burn with the rest! There’s no way out from here but through this
 
gate. No way at all, see. So use the key now before it’s too late!’

The Bane stood to one side so that its back was against the tunnel wall. I knew exactly what it wanted: to follow me through the gate, to be free, able to work its mischief anywhere in the County. I knew what the Spook would say; what he’d expect from me. It was my duty to make sure the Bane stayed trapped in the catacombs. That was more important than my own life.

‘Don’t be a fool!’
 the Bane hissed, its voice again far louder and harsher than I’d ever heard the Spook’s. 
‘Listen to me and free you’ll be! And rewarded as well. A big reward. The same as I
 
offered Old Bones many years ago, but he wouldn’t listen. And where has it got him, see? Tell me
 
that! Tomorrow he’ll be tried and found guilty. The day after that he’ll burn.’

‘No!’ I said. ‘I can’t do it.’

With that the Bane’s face filled with anger. It still resembled the Spook but the features I knew so well were distorted and twisted with evil. It took another step towards me, raising a fist. It might only have been a trick of the candlelight but the creature seemed to be growing. And I could feel an invisible weight starting to press down on my head and shoulders. As I was forced to my knees, I thought of the cat smeared into the cobbles and realized that the same fate was awaiting me. I tried to suck in a breath but I couldn’t and began to panic. I couldn’t breathe! This was it!

The light of the candle was lost in the sudden darkness that covered my eyes. I tried desperately to speak, to beg for mercy, but I knew there would be no mercy unless I unlocked the Silver Gate. What had I been thinking? What a fool I’d been to believe that with a few months’ training I could fend off a creature as evil and powerful as the Bane! I was dying -I felt sure of it. Alone in the catacombs. And the worst of it was that I’d failed miserably. I hadn’t managed to rescue my master or Alice.

Then I heard something in the distance: the sound of a shoe scuffing against the cobbles. They say that, as you die, the last sense to go is your hearing. And for a moment I thought that the scuffing of that shoe was the last experience I’d have of this life. But then the invisible weight crushing my body slowly eased.

My vision cleared and suddenly I could breathe again. I watched the Bane turn its head and look back towards the bend in the tunnel. The Bane had heard it too!

The sound came again. This time there was no doubt. Footsteps! Someone was coming!

I looked back towards the Bane and saw that it was changing. I hadn’t imagined it before. It 
was
 growing. By now its head had almost reached the top of the tunnel, the body curving forward, the face shifting until it was no longer that of the Spook. The chin was elongating, jutting outwards and upwards to form the beginning of a hook, and the nose was curving downwards to meet it. Was it changing into its true form - that of the stone gargoyle above the main door of the cathedral? Had it gained its full strength?

I listened to the approaching footsteps. I would have blown the candle out, only that would have left me in the dark with the Bane. At least it sounded like there was only one person coming rather than a troop of the Quisitor’s men. I didn’t care who it was. They’d saved me for now.

I saw the feet first, as someone stepped round the corner and into the candlelight. Pointy shoes, then a slim girl in a black dress and the swing of her hips as she came round the corner.

It was Alice!

She halted, glanced towards me quickly, and her eyes widened. When she looked up at the Bane, her face was angry rather than afraid.

I looked back, and for a moment the Bane’s eyes met mine. As well as the anger blazing in them, I could see something else, but before I could work it out Alice ran towards the Bane, hissing like a cat.

Then, to my astonishment, she spat up into its face.

What happened next was too quick to see. There was a sudden wind and the Bane was gone.

We stood motionless for what seemed like a long time. Then Alice turned to face me.

‘Didn’t like girl spit much, did it?’ she said with a faint smile. ‘Good job I came along when I did.’

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t believe that the Bane had fled so easily, but I was already on my knees, struggling to fit the key into the lock of the Silver Gate. My hands were shaking and it was just as difficult as it had looked when Andrew did it.

At last I managed to get the key into the right position and it turned. I pushed the gate open, seized the key and the staff and crawled through.

‘Bring the candle!’ I shouted back to Alice, and as soon as she was safely through, I slid the key into the other side of the lock and struggled to turn it. This time it seemed to take an age; at any moment I expected the Bane to come back.