The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles) (26 page)

BOOK: The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles)
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There was an explosion of blood. It went everywhere, and I was blinded for a few moments. When I’d wiped it out of my eyes, through the blood dripping from the ceiling I saw that Judd was kneeling on the floor, sobbing. He was gazing down at something – the ribbon of bloody skin that had once been Cosmina.

The two witches who’d accompanied Siscoi fled immediately, and there were no further attacks – the remainder of the night was quiet.

 

At dawn we found some lamp oil and used it to burn the skin. It sizzled on the wet cobbles, giving off a terrible smell, but it had to be done. Judd wasn’t prepared to bury Cosmina’s remains again.

We crouched there in silence until it was over. Drizzle came down out of a grey sky, washing the blood from our faces and hair.

‘Do you feel like talking about it?’ I asked at last. ‘Was that really Siscoi? Was it some form of possession?’

Judd nodded. ‘Yes, it was possession of a kind. Siscoi can animate the skin of a newly buried corpse. But first his servants
remove
the bones and cut the skin away from the muscle. Then the god may visit the close relatives of the dead, enjoying their anguish. At first the skin he inhabits is just filled with air. Then, as he begins to feed, it turns red, filling up with the blood of his victim. The process involves powerful dark magic. But whether I’d dealt with him or not, he couldn’t have stayed in that form for very long. That type of possession lasts only a few minutes.’

It made me sick to think of what had been done. After Judd had buried the body of Cosmina it had been dug up again, almost certainly that very night, and the process he’d described carried out.

‘How was it that your blade proved successful while mine failed?’ Grimalkin asked.

‘Close kin and those who love the deceased have the power to end the possession with a blade; even knitting needles have been used by outraged and grief-stricken widows. Of course, the victims don’t usually fight back. Siscoi simply takes their blood and they die.’

‘Did you harm him with your blade?’ Alice asked. ‘Will he be less powerful now?’

Judd shook his head. ‘No doubt he felt some sort of pain, but that will only make him angrier and more determined. He can briefly possess both the living and the dead without using a portal or the magic of witches. But he is most dangerous when he animates a host grown with the help of witches. He’ll have from midnight until dawn to wreak havoc. I don’t want to be anywhere nearby when that happens.’

‘Then I think you should go back to Chipenden,’ said Grimalkin.

Judd looked at her in astonishment and then his expression hardened. ‘Look! I’m not a coward!’ he exclaimed angrily. ‘I’m just stating the facts, that’s all. I want to stay here and play my part, but I’m sure we’re all going to die.’

Grimalkin smiled at him without showing her teeth. ‘Nobody doubts your bravery, despite your betrayal of John Gregory. You have been through things that would have broken most men. But you have suffered enough. Go back and help John Gregory for a while. The house and garden may yet come under attack.’

Judd opened his mouth to protest again, but suddenly fell silent. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alice muttering to herself.

‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said, coming to his feet, a bewildered expression on his face. ‘Mr Gregory will need help. He could be in danger as we speak. I might as well get started right away – I need to get back as soon as possible.’

I was annoyed: Alice had used dark magic to make him change his mind. But when I opened my mouth to speak, she laid a finger against her lips and smiled sweetly. One part of me wanted to protest – I thought Judd would be more useful here. But I knew that Alice must have a good reason for what she’d done. So I kept quiet. And within five minutes, Judd Brinscall had gathered his things, said a brief farewell and set off for Chipenden.

‘Why?’ I asked once we were back inside the inn. ‘We need all the help we can get.’

‘We three alone have the speed, skill and power to do what must be done,’ said Grimalkin. ‘You have the Destiny Blade and Bone Cutter – in addition to the talents inherited from your mother. Alice wields powerful magic, and I am Grimalkin. To send him away is a kindness – a quality that I show only rarely. But despite his past failings, Judd is a competent spook and a strong enemy of the Fiend – we need all the allies we can get. He must live to serve our cause again should it prove necessary; if he stays with us, he will surely die. Tonight we must attack our enemies and prevent Siscoi from entering the world.’

‘Tonight? I thought we were going to allow them to attack us and deplete their strength first?’ I exclaimed.

‘They have a new host growing in the offal pit, Tom,’ Alice said. ‘And this very night the surviving witches will combine their strength to open the portal, allowing Siscoi to animate it.’

‘How can you know that?’ I asked.

‘Alice scryed it,’ Grimalkin replied.

‘You can scry?’

Alice nodded, her face serious.

‘That’s just one of the talents that Alice has hidden for so long,’ said Grimalkin. ‘Scrying is never totally certain: there are variables – things that constantly change and affect outcomes – but I have faith in Alice’s information. These witches rarely meet in the flesh. They much prefer to appear as orbs of light above the trees. But tonight is different: to open the portal they need to be together, and Alice has discovered the place where they plan to gather. We will kill them all.’

‘They’re going to use the house where Mistress Fresque and her strigoi partner lived,’ Alice told me.

That made sense. Thanks to Judd, I knew that Romanian witches were very private and didn’t like any other witches seeing into their homes.

‘That’s the house that shifts its shape,’ I said. ‘That could be a problem. You can’t be certain of
anything
in there.’

‘We’ll take care of that,’ said Grimalkin. ‘We’re about to find out who has the stronger magic – those from Romania or those from Pendle.’

Alice said nothing, but a little smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

 

We spent the remainder of the day preparing for our attack. The town was deserted, and we took up temporary residence at the smithy. There Grimalkin sharpened her blades and forged three more to replace those she had been unable to retrieve.

I had no need to sharpen the Destiny Blade – its edge was always ready for blood – but I cleaned it carefully, and the ruby eyes set into the hilt glowed as I did so. Nor did the dagger require sharpening, but I did attend to the silver-alloy blade of my new staff.

I showed Bone Cutter to Grimalkin; she turned it over and over in her hands, inspecting it carefully. ‘It’s a formidable weapon,’ she said, ‘a smaller version of the sword. I wonder if the dagger that lies within the dark is a replica of this.’

As Grimalkin spoke those words, I looked across at Alice, my heart lurching at the thought that she was supposed to retrieve
it
. But Alice wasn’t listening. For most of the afternoon she had been sitting cross-legged on the stone floor, oblivious to the clash and clang from the forge, her eyes closed. When I had tried to speak to her, she made no response. It seemed to me that while her body was present, her mind, and perhaps her soul, was far away. In some mysterious way she was focusing her power for the struggle that lay ahead.

At last it started to grow dark and we were ready to leave for the sinister house on Bent Lane.

 

‘ALICE, COULD YOU
hide the sack for me?’ Grimalkin asked. ‘If the worst comes to the worst and we do not return, I would like to make its discovery as difficult as possible for our enemies. Your magic is stronger than mine.’

That was praise indeed from the witch assassin. In addition to her formidable combat skills, Grimalkin had strong magic of her own. But I had seen with my own eyes what Alice was capable of. I wondered just how powerful she really was. It hurt to know that, although we had been close friends for years, she had hidden so much from me.

Alice nodded and reached for the leather sack. As she did so, we heard the sound of coarse laughter. But the sound seemed
to
come from the ground beneath our feet. The very flags were vibrating.

‘Let’s see what the old fool finds so amusing!’ Grimalkin said.

She undid the cord that bound the head, lifted it out by the horns and placed it on the anvil. It was a terrible sight – even worse than last time. One eye was still stitched shut, the other a gaping ruin. Skin was flaking from the forehead, boils forming all over the face, as if the evil within was forcing its way to the surface.

Grimalkin tugged out the nettles and twigs so that the Fiend could speak. This time the laughter issued from the mouth, not the ground. It went on for a long time. Grimalkin waited patiently. I looked at the stumps of the teeth that she had shattered with her hammer when we’d bound him back in Kenmare, and at the crusted dried blood on his face. His situation was dire – what could he find so amusing?

‘You seem to be in good spirits, but in truth you have never been lower or closer to final defeat!’ Grimalkin said when the laughter finally ceased.

‘You are proud and arrogant, witch!’ growled the Fiend. ‘With your two eyes you see less than I do. Siscoi is the greatest of my present servants – soon he will free me from captivity and take all your blood. How reckless you are, witch, to bring me so close to him! You could not have made his task easier!’

‘You have already lost many servants, fool,’ Grimalkin retorted. ‘Prepare to lose another! They have died or been defeated by those who face you now. We are the most powerful of your many enemies! Before this night is through, Siscoi will
be
destroyed or damaged so badly that he will be of no further use to your cause.’

The Fiend laughed again. ‘It will not happen, witch, because this boy, upon whose scrawny shoulders rests your slim hope of victory, is a coward. He has already fled in terror from my servants, and will do so again!’

Did he mean when I was down in the cellar of the Fresque house? I’d panicked and run, true, but later I’d gathered my courage and returned. I was about to protest when Grimalkin smiled at me and laid a finger against her lips, indicating that I should not reply.

‘In the midnight hour this boy will do what is necessary!’ she said.

‘Then here is something for him to think about. As I warned you, Thomas Ward, your brother James is dead. My servants cut his throat and threw him into a ditch. You will never see him again in this world.’

The Fiend was the Father of Lies but my instincts cried out that he was telling the truth. My heart felt as heavy as lead. I had lost my brother.

Grimalkin lifted up the head by its horns, then moved towards the forge and held it out over the glowing coals. Soon the Fiend started to scream, and a smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils. It was a long time before she stuffed the mouth with nettles and twigs and returned the head to the leather sack. Finally she handed it to Alice to hide with her magic.

 

* * *

 

We set off for Mistress Fresque’s house soon after eleven. Our intention was to disrupt the ritual of the witches and, if possible, kill them all.

We climbed up above the town and started up Bent Lane, beneath the arch of trees. It was very dark, but my eyes were gradually adjusting. ‘Won’t they sniff us out?’ I whispered.

The Pendle witches had their own defences against detection; seventh sons of seventh sons also had immunity, but these Romanian witches were different. Who knew what powers they might possess?

‘Alice will take care of it soon,’ Grimalkin told me. ‘She will cloak us. Our attack will come as a complete surprise.’

I shivered. It was good to have someone so formidable on our side, but the thought of Alice’s power made me increasingly uneasy.

Suddenly we heard something large lumbering along beside us.

‘It’s a moroi!’ said Grimalkin, drawing a blade.

‘As long as we stay on the path, we’re safe,’ I told her. ‘Save your blade. I have weapons of my own, but they aren’t made out of metal. Judd Brinscall taught me an easier way to do the job.’

So saying, I reached down and plucked two big handfuls of grass, then tossed them towards the outline of the huge bear. Instantly it dropped down on all fours and sniffed at the scattered grass.

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