The Whitby Witches 1 - The Whitby Witches (31 page)

As the fiery eyes blazed malevolently at her. Miss Boston bellowed, 'I've waited a long time to do this!' and punched the witch for all she was worth.

The blow had little effect, but that little was enough. Rowena stared at her, not believing the audacity of it. Seizing her one chance, the old lady bolted for the archway.

'You can't escape me now,' screeched the witch. 'I am the hunter of souls!'

From the structure above there came an ominous crack—the great arches were splitting. Rowena looked up warily; her burning eyes widened with shock as she realised that she had been tricked. In a thundering crash, the central tower collapsed. A shrill howl pierced the deafening tumult as Rowena Cooper was crushed beneath the tons of falling masonry that toppled and smashed down. A cloud of dust billowed out and, when it cleared, all that remained of the tower was a mound of rubble.

Beyond the vast pile of broken stones the children and Nelda were standing with fearful looks on their faces. Where was Aunt Alice? Jennet and Ben rushed forward, calling her name.

'What do you think you are doing?' came a voice. Miss Boston's head popped up from behind a wall and she peered at the devastation.

'We thought you were under there,' cried Jennet.

The old lady stepped carefully through the wreckage. 'Don't be silly, dear,' she said. 'Give me a hand here, would you?'

Ben and Jennet dashed over and threw their arms round Aunt Alice's neck.

'Oh, Benjamin,' she said with a grimace, 'you're all wet.'

'I thought you were dead,' the boy cried.

Miss Boston pulled the children from her and became serious. 'Quickly,' she told them. 'We must search through this rubble and find the staff of Hilda—it is our only link with the future. If we don't find it then we may be stuck in this time for good.'

She and Jennet began pulling the stones from the great mound but Ben did not join in. He was looking for Nelda. 'Where is she?' he asked. 'Did you see where she went?'

The old lady straightened her back and glanced past the church—Nelda was there and she knew what she had found. 'I believe she is on the steps,' she said, a little croakily. 'She is with Hesper—leave her alone for a while, Benjamin.'

Aunt Alice clasped her hands together and stared at the ground. A forlorn, soul-wrenching cry floated on the warm breeze, and the old lady covered her face so that the children would not see her weeping.

Jennet dragged a huge square stone from the pile and sent it rolling on to the dusty grass. 'Aunt Alice,' she shouted excitedly, 'I think I've found it—look!'

She had uncovered a corner section of the ruined tower. It was balanced precariously on one of the fallen pillars but, in the shade beneath, the carved end of the staff was plain to see.

'Wait,' said Miss Boston, drying her eyes and scrabbling anxiously over the debris. 'No, Jennet, don't you touch it.'

The girl reached in and her fingers closed round the black wood. 'It's all right,' she told her. 'I've got it,' Jennet tugged at the staff but it was held fast. 'It must be wedged under all this. Just one more...'

She staggered down the side of the heap and stared, horrified, into the hole—the staff was in the grip of a large black paw.

'Hush, dear,' Miss Boston whispered in the girl's ear, 'don't let Benjamin know.'

'But that's the hound,' Jennet stammered, 'the Barguest. Where is Rowena—what happened to her?'

'You're looking at her, dear,' Aunt Alice answered mildly. 'That was Rowena's true nature.' She patted Jennet's arm and stooped down to retrieve the staff herself. It came free in her hands and, reverently, she held it up.

'Oh, what a divine creation,' she breathed, examining the intricate carving. 'Simply marvellous.'

'Do you really know how to use it?' Jennet ventured. 'I mean, it's not as if you're a witch like Rowena.'

Aunt Alice smiled. 'I seem to remember somebody saying otherwise not too long ago. I think I told you then that I preferred the term "wise woman".'

She held the staff before her, but a call from Ben interrupted her concentration. 'Look up there!' he cried.

In the east windows of the abbey a white light shone. At first they thought it was only an illusion, but then the blurred shape took form and the old lady gasped in wonder. So intense was the radiance that it cast long shadows over the abbey lawns and the summer sun seemed pale by comparison.

'My word,' murmured Miss Boston and humbly bowed her head.

Jennet shielded her eyes but found that she could look into the light quite easily without it hurting. The girl blinked; for a second she thought she had seen the figure of a woman.

Miss Boston lifted the staff and offered it to the dazzling vision. 'Take it,' she said respectfully. 'It is too dangerous a thing for this world.'

Briefly the light welled up and then was extinguished. Jennet gawped stupidly; everywhere seemed dull and chill. Aunt Alice lowered her hands, which were empty. The staff had gone back to its rightful owner. 'All is as it should be,' she sighed, 'thank the Lord.'

'But how will we get home without it?' asked Ben.

The old lady chuckled. 'Look about you, dear,' she said.

It was a grey September dawn and the town was waking. Cars lumbered down Church Street and the fish market was about to start on the West Cliff. Just another ordinary day in Whitby.

Miss Boston wrapped her muddy cloak round the two children and they wandered slowly out of the abbey grounds. Wearily, the three of them passed through the churchyard and on the hundred and ninety-nine steps they found Nelda waiting. The body of her aunt was in her arms and she huddled her close, brushing the sand-coloured hair from Hesper's peaceful face.

'It is over,' Miss Boston told her.

The aufwader stared at the leaden sea and nodded.

In the dead of night. Aunt Alice, Jennet and Ben stood upon the pier, while in the distance a small black boat sailed over the water, wreathed in flames.

'What will the fisher folk do now?' asked the girl.

Miss Boston shrugged. 'I'm afraid there is no hope for them,' she replied sorrowfully. 'They are doomed to extinction.'

From the exposed shore beneath the cliff, a sad lament began. The whole tribe was gathered there. All was forgiven and they mourned the passing of Hesper Gull together. The Song of the Dead drifted through the calm night and Nelda held on to her grandfather desolately.

Ben watched the burning craft drift into the dim horizon until the fires died and it was gone.

'Goodbye, Hesper,' whispered Miss Boston. She coughed and briskly rubbed her hands. 'Now then, let's get you two tucked into bed.'

She led them down the pier but Ben could not help staring at the sea.

'Come on,' said his sister kindly, 'we're going
home.'

The boy trailed behind them, silently. He knew that one day he would have to atone for his failure to lift the curse of the Deep Ones.