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Authors: Joseph Delaney

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I opened my eyes to see Alice bending over me. The
candle had burned very low and was now little more
than a stub. There was a bitter taste in my mouth. A
piece of leaf lay under my tongue – some healing herb
from Alice's leather pouch.

'Getting really worried, I was,' she remarked.
'You've been unconscious ages.'

She helped me to my feet. I'd a bad headache and a
lump the size of an egg on the crown of my head. But
of our attackers there was no sign.

'The maenads are buried under that pile of rubble,
Tom, so we're safe for now.'

'Let's hope so, Alice – they're really strong and any
who've survived will start to move those rocks to get
at us!'

Alice nodded and glanced at the rock fall. 'I wonder
what those sounds were . . .'

'I don't like to think about it, but whatever caused
them probably brought down the tunnel.'

'Need to find a way out of here quickly, Tom. That
candle ain't going to last long.'

That's if there was another way out. If not, it was all
over for us. We'd never be able to shift that rock fall.
Some of the slabs were too big even for the two of
us to lift.

We continued down the tunnel as quickly as we
could: the candle was starting to gutter. Soon we'd be
in darkness; maybe never see daylight again.

It was then that I realized it wasn't flickering just
because it was burning low. There was fresh air
blowing towards us. But how big would the gap in the
rock be? I wondered. Would we be able to get out?
Gradually, as we climbed, the breeze became stronger.
My hopes soared. And yes – within moments there
was light ahead. There
was
a way out!

Minutes later, grateful to be free of what might have
been our tomb, we emerged onto a high path. The
mountainside was lit by the moon, which had become
paler with the approach of dawn. I took the candle
stub from Alice, blew it out and thrust it into my
breeches pocket in case I needed it further. Then,
without a word, we continued east along a path that
was taking us deeper into the mountains.

We had to press on and find a way through to the
plain on the other side. I just hoped that Mam and the
others had survived the maenad attack. If they had,
they'd continue on towards Meteora and that's where
we'd find them.

CHAPTER
12
L
AMIA
S

Eventually we reached a fork in the path. Both
tracks led roughly eastwards towards the plain,
but which one should we take?

'Which path, Alice?' I asked.

She sniffed each in turn. 'Ain't much choice,' she
said with a frown. 'Neither one's safe. A dangerous
place, this.'

'What sort of danger?'

'Lamias. Lots of 'em . . .'

Lamias lurked in mountain passes such as this,
preying on travellers. The thought of them made me
very nervous indeed – I remembered what Mab said
she'd scryed: Alice being killed by a feral lamia on the
journey towards the Ord. I was torn between telling
her about it and keeping it quiet. But why tell her? I
asked myself. She was alert to the danger from lamias
anyway, and knowing would only make her more
worried.

But I was still fearful that Mab would be proved
right.

'Perhaps we should stay here for a while, Alice,' I
suggested, looking up at the sky, which was already
brightening. 'The sun will be up soon. It can't be much
more than half an hour or so before dawn.'

Lamias couldn't stand sunlight – we'd be safe then –
but Alice shook her head. 'Reckon they'll have sniffed us
out already. They'll know we're here, Tom. Stay in one
spot and they'll come at us from all sides – they might
arrive before the sun comes up. Best keep moving.'

What she said made sense, so, on impulse, I chose
the left-hand path. It rose steeply for a while before
descending towards a small valley where sheer cliffs
reared up towards the sky on both sides. Even when
the sun came up, this area would remain in shadow.
As we scrambled down, the pale moon was lost to
view and I began to grow nervous. To our right was
the dark entrance to a small cave. Then I began to
notice the feathers scattered around us.

I'd seen that before back in the County. It was a sign
that feral lamia witches were close. When human prey
wasn't available, they made do with smaller creatures
such as mice and birds, using dark magic to place them
in thrall while they ripped them to pieces and drank
their blood.

Soon, to our horror, we saw more signs of danger: a
second cave, fragments of dead birds – their wings,
beaks, heads and legs – littering the blood-stained
rocks outside it. But I noticed that the remains were
old, not fresh kills.

'We've taken the wrong track, Alice! We need to go
back!'

'Either that or move forward a lot faster!' she
argued, but it was already too late . . .

We heard a chilling hiss and turned to find
something big scuttling along the rocky path behind
us. It was a feral lamia. The creature, at least one and a
half times the length of my own body, was crouched on
four thin limbs with large splayed hands, each
elongated finger ending in a sharp, deadly talon. Long
greasy hair hung down onto the scaled back and across
the face too. What I could see of its features told me
that the situation couldn't be worse. This was not the
bloated face of a lamia witch that had recently fed,
making it sluggish and less aggressive. No, it was
gaunt, cadaverous, its heavily lidded eyes wide open
and showing a ravenous hunger.

I turned, stepped in front of Alice and raised my
staff – lamias didn't like rowan wood. I drove it hard
and fast towards its head. There was a dull thud as the
end made contact and the creature backed away,
hissing angrily.

I followed, jabbing at it again and again. It was then
that I heard another angry hiss from behind: I turned
to see a second lamia advancing towards Alice. Almost
immediately a third scuttled up onto a large boulder to
our right.

Rowan wood wouldn't be sufficient now, so I
pressed the recess near the top of my staff and, with a
sharp click, the retractable blade emerged from the
end.

'Keep very close behind me, Alice!' I cried. If I could
force the lamia back to where the path widened, we
could race past it and make our escape.

Wasting no time, I drove my staff hard at the lamia
ahead of me. My aim was true and the blade pierced its
right shoulder, sending up a spray of black blood. It
screamed and retreated, so I advanced again, stabbing
quickly, keeping it at bay, trying to maintain my
concentration. Lamias are incredibly fast and this slow
retreat could at any moment turn into a rapid frenzied
attack. The lamia could be on me in a second, its talons
pinning me down, ravenous teeth biting into my flesh.
So I had to focus and await my chance to drive my
blade through its heart. Step by step, I continued to
advance.
Concentrate!
I told myself.
Watch! Focus! Get
ready for the first hint of a surge towards me
.

There was a sudden scream from behind. Alice!
I risked a quick glance over my shoulder. She was
nowhere to be seen! Turning away from the wounded
lamia, I began to run back along the track in the
direction of that scream. There was no sign of her and
I halted on the path. Had I gone too far? I wondered.

Desperate, with my heart hammering with fear for
Alice, I quickly retraced my steps until I came to a cleft
in the rock. There were feathers and bird fragments on
the ground in front of it. Had she been dragged inside?
A shout from within confirmed that she had, but her
voice sounded distant and somehow muffled. I eased
myself through the gap and moved forward into the
increasing gloom. I came to another cave, far smaller
than the others – just a dark hole descending steeply
into the ground.

Suddenly I saw Alice looking back towards me. Her
eyes locked with mine and I saw her fear, pain and
desperation. The lamia's jaws were gripping her right
shoulder and there was blood at her throat. It was
dragging her downwards, head first, deeper into its
lair. The last thing I saw was Alice's left ankle and
pointy shoe disappearing from view. It happened so
quickly: before I could even move she was gone.

I rushed over to the opening, threw down my staff,
fell to my knees and thrust my left hand downwards in
a desperate attempt to grasp Alice's ankle. But she'd
already been dragged down too far. I reached into my
pockets for the candle stub and my tinderbox. I'd need
some light to follow her down into the darkness. There
was a lump in my throat. The lamia's teeth were in
deep and it might already be starting to drain her
blood, I thought. It was exactly what Mab had
predicted. And she'd said that Alice would die down
there in the darkness. The witch would suck her blood
until her heart stopped.

I heard a scrabbling noise from below. I was
probably already too late. Frantic with fear for Alice, I
suddenly remembered the dark wish that Grimalkin
had given me. It was wrong to use it – it meant
invoking the dark. But what choice did I have? How
could I stand back and let Alice die when I had the
power to save her? Tears welled in my eyes and my
throat began to constrict with emotion. I couldn't
imagine life without Alice. I had to do it.

But
would
using it save Alice? Would it really be
strong enough?

'I wish Alice to be unhurt, safe and well!' I cried, and
then repeated the wish quickly as Grimalkin had
instructed. 'I wish Alice to be unhurt, safe and well!'

I don't know what I expected to happen. Certainly
not for Alice to simply appear safe and well at my side.
I was hoping to see her crawl to safety from the lamia's
lair. But all I could hear was the distant whine of the
wind. Grimalkin had said that the wish contained
years of stored power. Surely something should be
happening by now?

But there was nothing – nothing at all – and my
heart sank into my boots. The wish hadn't worked.
Had I done something wrong? I looked down into the
dark maw of the lamia's lair, and regret began to gnaw
at my stomach. Why had I wasted my time using the
wish? Why had I been so stupid? I should have lit my
candle and crawled after her right away.

I opened my tinderbox, and it was then that I sensed
something right behind me and remembered the third
lamia. In my haste to save Alice I'd forgotten all about
it! I turned round . . .

But it wasn't a lamia. No, it was something far
worse. Standing there and smiling down at me was the
Fiend himself.

He was in the shape of Matthew Gilbert, the
murdered bargeman. Matthew had been an easygoing,
burly man with large hands and a warm smile.
The top two buttons of his shirt were open, revealing
the brown hair on his broad chest. He looked every
inch the genial fellow who had once plied his trade
along the Caster-to-Kendal canal. But the Fiend had
visited me in that form before so I knew exactly whom
I was facing.

'Well, Tom, isn't this a special day? One I've waited
a long time to arrive. You've finally used the dark!'

I stepped back in alarm at his words and shook my
head – though I knew I was lying even to myself. How
could I deny it? The Spook had warned that the Fiend
would try to win me to his side, corrupting me bit by
bit until my soul was no longer my own and I
belonged to him. And he'd suggested that Alice was
the most likely means to his achieving this end. And
now it had happened. I'd used the dark to save Alice.

'Don't try and pretend that you haven't! After all,
you've just used a dark wish. Do you think I don't
know that? Your use of dark magic alerted me to what
was happening, so I came right away. The wish has
already saved Alice. She'll be with you soon – just as
soon as I leave and allow time to return to normal. You
are already free to move but nothing else is. Look
about you – maybe then you'll believe me . . .'

The Fiend could distort the flow of time; sometimes
stop it altogether. I looked up through the cleft in the
rock and saw a bird, some kind of hawk, high in the air
near the crag above, but it wasn't moving. It was still
and frozen against the pale sky.

'You were lucky to escape and reach these
mountains,' the Fiend continued. 'The attack took you
all by surprise. The Pendle witches who oppose me
didn't detect the threat. Not even that clever little
Mouldheel scryer. Your mother's power came to
nothing because I darkened her foresight – I've been
doing it for many months now. How can she hope to
prevail against an enemy who has my support? Tell me
that!'

I said nothing. It was bad enough facing something
as terrible and powerful as the Ordeen. But behind her,
ready with his even greater strength, stood the Fiend.

Mam couldn't hope to beat him. The whole enterprise
seemed doomed to failure.

'You've fallen silent, Tom. You know I'm right. So
now I'll tell you more. I'll explain just how bad things
really are. It's your birthday soon – you'll be fifteen,
won't you?'

I didn't reply, but he was correct. I'd be fifteen on the
third of August, which was now less than a week
away.

'Your mother is relying on you to carry through her
doomed scheme,' he continued. 'Do you want to know
what part you're to play in this foolishness?'

'I trust Mam,' I told him. 'I'm her son and I'll do
whatever she wants.'

'
Whatever?
That's generous, Tom. Very generous
indeed. But you'll need to be generous – extremely
generous – because she needs a lot from you. Your life,
no less. On your fifteenth birthday you are to be
sacrificed in order to fulfil her desperate need for
victory.'

'You're lying!' I shouted, shaking with anger. 'Mam
loves me. She loves all her children. She wouldn't do
that.'

'Wouldn't she, Tom? Not even for the greater good?
Individuals are expendable. She believes in the light
and is prepared to do anything to defeat the dark. Even
to sacrifice the thing she loves most. That's you, Tom.
That's what she's going to do!'

'She wouldn't do that. She just wouldn't . . .'

'No? Are you so sure? A special blood sacrifice might just
give her a chance. And your blood is very special, Tom. The blood of a seventh
son of a seventh son . . .'

I didn't answer. I'd said enough already.

The Fiend was enjoying my discomfort. 'Not only
that,' he continued. 'You are your mother's son as well.
And she is not human. Do you know what she is?' He
smiled. 'She's told you already, I can see that. You're so
easy to read, Tom, like an open book. So you know
what she's done in the past. How cruel and bloodthirsty
she once was – a true servant of the dark. And
despite her conversion to the light, she's reverting back
to her original form. Think how easy it will be for
a murderous creature like that to sacrifice you for a
cause she believes in!'

Everything grew dark and I felt as if I was falling
through space – and about to experience some terrible
impact. It was as if I'd been thrown off a cliff and was
hurtling down towards the rocks below. I was terrified,
expecting to be smashed to pieces at any second.

BOOK: The Spook's Sacrifice
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ads

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