The Spooks battle wc-4 Read online

  "Come on, I'm waiting!" Mab snapped. "My patience is running out fast."It says that the other trunks can only be opened in moonlight and that I must turn the key."Does it say what's inside?"No hint at all, Mab," I lied. "But it must be something special and more valuable than what we've already found in this trunk. Otherwise they wouldn't be more difficult to get into."Mab looked at me suspiciously, so I kept talking to distract her. "What happened to the other, smaller boxes that were in Mam's room?" I demanded. There had been lots of other boxes, all taken by the witches who'd raided the farm."Oh, them. Heard they were full of rubbish -cheap brooches and ornaments, that's all. The Malkins shared em out among their clan." I shook my head sadly. "That's not right. They belonged to me. I had a right to see them."Just feel lucky that you're still alive," Mab said."Will you let Alice and my family go now?" I pressed her."I'll think about it."Jack's ill -he must have help. They need a horse and cart to get him to a doctor as quickly as possible. If he dies, I'll never open the trunks for you. Come on, Mab, keep your word. You've already got one trunk, and I'll open the other two tonight, as soon as the moon comes up. Please."

  Mab stared hard into my eyes for a moment, then turned to her sisters. "Go and tell the others to let them go."Jennet and Beth hesitated."He needs that cart, Mab. He can't walk," I persisted.Mab nodded. "Then he shall have it. Just see that you keep your word. Go on, jump to it!" she snapped, turning to her sisters. "And tell 'em to hurry those masons up!" "Masons?" I asked as Beth and Jennet left to do their sister's bidding."Masons to fix the wall. The Malkins are finished here. This tower belongs to us now. Times have changed. We rule Pendle now!"Within an hour a team of four masons had arrived and set to repairing the wall. The men seemed nervous and were clearly working under duress. They obviously wanted to get the job over and done with as quickly as possible and displayed great strength, energy, and dexterity in heaving the heavy stones back into position.Others from the clan went down the steps under orders to secure the lower regions of the tower.

  They were soon back, reporting that, as expected, the Malkins had left the lower dungeons and escaped through the tunnel. Mab gave orders for guards to stay down there on watch. When the Malkins found out that the soldiers had left the vicinity, they might try to return.Before nightfall the breach in the wall had been repaired, but Mab had one more job for the masons. She made them carry the two heavy locked trunks up the narrow steps and onto the battlements above. That done, they left hurriedly, and the drawbridge was lowered, sealing us within the tower.In addition to Mab and her sisters there were another ten witches, who made up the numbers of the coven. But there were also four older -women, whose job was to cook and carry for the rest. They made a thin potato and carrot soup, and despite the fact that the members of a -witch clan had made it, I accepted a plateful. But fearing poison or some potion that would place me under Mab's control, I checked that it was ladled from the same cooking pot as everyone else's. When they had started, I dunked bread into it and began to eat.After supper I would have liked to start sorting through Mam's trunk, but Mab would have none of it and ordered me to keep away.

  "You'll get your fill of them trunks before you're finished," she told me. "Months it's going to take you, to translate all those books." Soon after sunset, carrying a lantern, Mab led me up toward the battlements, Beth and Jennet at my heels. At the top of the steps we passed into another room with a wooden floor, in which the mechanism for controlling the drawbridge was housed. It consisted of a large wooden capstan wheel with a system of -wooden cogs and gears and a ratchet attached to a chain. Turning the -wheel would wrap the chain around it and raise the bridge.Beyond that we emerged onto the flagged battlements, which provided a good view on all sides. Pendle Hill rose high above the trees of Crow Wood and, because of the meadowland between the tower and the edge of those encircling trees, nobody could approach unseen. The gunners had gone off to war and now the tower was in the hands of the Mouldheels, theoretically unassailable. But then I glanced toward the trunks. Little did they know what waited within.As it grew dark, the lantern seemed to grow brighter. I knew that the moon would already be above the horizon, but there -was a stiff breeze from the west, driving low rainclouds across the sky. It might be some time before moonlight fell upon the trunks, if at all."Looks like rain, Mab," I told her. "Might have to wait until tomorrow night."

  Mab sniffed the air and shook her head. "Moon'll show its face soon enough," she said. "Until then, we'll wait up here."I stared out into the darkness, listening to the distant whine of the wind through the trees, thinking of all that had happened in the few days since we'd reached Pendle. Where was the Spook now? And what could he hope to do against the power of the witch clans? Poor Father Stocks was dead, and my master couldn't hope to shift the Mouldheels from Malkin Tower alone, never mind deal with the others-especially the Malkins. And I needed to talk to the Spook about the existence of Wurmalde, who was a real puzzle. How did she fit into the complex society of the Pendle witches? She'd talked about taking revenge on Mam, but what exactly was she trying to achieve in Pendle?I glanced at Mab, who was staring up at the night sky. "You've done well, Mab," I flattered her, hoping to get her talking so that I could learn more about what we faced. "You've beaten the Malkins. And even with the help of the Deanes, they'll never be able to get you out of this tower. It's yours forever now."It's been a long time coming," Mab agreed, looking at me a little suspiciously. "But I saw my chance and I made it happen. With your help, Tom. We're a good team, me and you, don't you think?"I wasn't sure what she was driving at. She couldn't be taking a shine to me. Not me, a Spook's apprentice. No, it had to be fascination and glamour she was trying to use on me.

  I decided to ignore her and change the subject."What do you know of Wurmalde?" I asked."Wurmalde!" Mab said, spitting onto the flags. "She's nothing but an incomer. A meddler, she is, and the first who'll get bad things happening to her. I'll sort her."But why would she come here when she's not from one of the clans? What does she want?"She's a loner. Don't come from a good witch clan herself, so attaches herself to others. And for some reason she wants to be in this county and to raise the power of the dark-to strike out at you and your mam, I think. She's mentioned your mam; really seems to hate her for some reason."I think they knew each other back in Greece," I said."Your mam a witch?" Mab asked me directly."Of course not," I said, but I wasn't convincing myself, let alone Mab. Powers, potions, bone buttons and now two feral lamia "sisters." I was starting to believe deep down that my mother was indeed a lamia witch -a benign, domesticated one, but a witch nonetheless."You sure about that?" asked Mab. "Just seems to me that Wurmalde's pretty interested in the power of your mam's trunks, and your mam seems to have been very clever at stopping anyone from getting into them. How could she do that if she wasn't a witch?"I ignored her."Don't worry," Mab teased. "Nothing to be ashamed of, being related to a witch." "My mother's not a witch," I protested."So you say, dearie," she said, making it obvious she didn't believe a word of it.

  "Well, whatever your mam is, she's Wurmalde's enemy, and Wurmalde wants the three covens to join together at Lammas to raise Old Nick and destroy you and all your mother's hopes, I think. But don't fret, the Mouldheels won't be part of it, not us. No, not despite all her attempts to persuade us. We've left em to their folly. Going too far, it is," she said, shaking her head furiously. "Too much of a risk."Mab fell silent, but now I was really curious. I wanted to know what she meant about "going too far."A risk? What do you mean by that?" I asked.It was Beth who answered for her sister. "Because once you done that, there's no going back, and he's in the world to stay. And you might not be able to control him. That's the big risk you take. Once Old Nick gets back into the world, there's no end to the mischief he might do. Got a mind of his own, Nick has. Lose control of him and he could make us suffer, too." "But don't the Malkins and Deanes know that?" I asked."Of course they do!" Mab snapped. "That's why they want us to join 'em. First of all, if three clans work together, there's more chance of rai
sing Old Nick in the first place. Then, if it's successful, with three covens working together we might be able to keep him in check. But it's still a risk, and the others are fools to be taken in by Wurmalde's promises of increased power and darkness. And why should I work with them anyway? As I said, the Mouldheels are the power in Pendle now, so let the others go to the Devil!"For a moment there was silence as we both stared into the darkness, until suddenly the moon came out from behind a cloud. It was a thin crescent, a waning moon with horns facing toward the -west. The light -was pale, but it shone on the trunks, casting their shadows across the battlements.Mab held out the keys and pointed to the nearer trunk.

  "Keep your promise, Tom," she said softly. "You -won't regret it. We could have a good life here-you and me." She smiled at me and her eyes glittered like stars, her hair gleaming with an unearthly silver light. It was only moonlight, I knew that, but for a moment she was radiant. Although I understood exactly what she was trying to do, I could still feel the power she was exerting. Glamour and fascination were being used against me: Mab was trying to bind me to her will. Not only did she want me to open the trunks; she wanted me to do it willingly and happily.I smiled back and accepted the keys. Her efforts were wasted. I was already both willing and happy to open the two trunks. And she was about to get the biggest surprise of her life.Apart from the largest key, the one that opened the door to my room back at the farm, they appeared identical. But the second one I tried opened the lock with a click. I took a deep breath and slowly raised the lid. Inside the trunk, folded back upon itself, was something large. It was wrapped in a piece of sailcloth and bound with string. Instinctively I placed my hand on the upper surface, expecting to feel movement, but then I remembered that the creature within would sleep until touched by the light of the moon.

  "There's something big in here, Mab," I said. "I'll need a hand to lift it out. But I'll open the other trunk first and see what's inside that."Whether Mab agreed or not, I was already trying to open the second trunk. If they were indeed feral lamias, then one would surely be enough to see off the Mouldheels. But I wanted them both awake to make absolutely sure. I raised the second lid…"Same thing here, Mab. Let's lift them both out."Mab didn't look too sure, but Beth leaned forward eagerly and we heaved the long, heavy bundle from the trunk and placed it on the flags. Stretched out, it was about one and a half times the length of my own body. Jennet, not to be outdone, helped me with the second trunk. That completed, I smiled up at Mab."Cut through the string, Jennet," I said. Jennet pulled her knife from her belt and obliged, and I started to unwrap the sailcloth. I'd almost finished when disaster struck!The moon went behind a cloud.Mab brought the lantern across and held it at my shoulder. My heart sank, my confidence evaporating. I hesitated, hoping that the moon would come out again. Would the Mouldheels know what a lamia was?

  They might have heard of them, but hopefully, as lamia witches weren't native to the County, they wouldn't have seen one in the feral state. But if they did guess correctly, the two dormant creatures would be at the three sisters' mercy. Once they'd used their blades, the kiss of the moon would come too late."Hurry up, Tom!" Mab ordered impatiently. "Let's see what we have here…"When I didn't move, she reached down and snatched back the cloth, immediately giving a little gasp.

  "What's this then? Never seen anything like this before!" she exclaimed. I'd been face-to-face with Marcia, Meg Skelton's feral sister. I remembered well her cruel face, white and bloated, with red blood dribbling from her chin. I also remembered her long greasy hair, scaly back, and four limbs ending in sharp claws. This creature was larger than Marcia. I was pretty sure that it was a feral lamia, but not the kind that just scuttled about on the ground. This was the other type, which I'd never seen before. The one that could fly short distances. It had black feathered wings folded across its back and also short feathers on its upper body.Additionally, there were four limbs: The heavier lower two had sharp, deadly claws; but, by contrast, the upper limbs were much more like human arms, with delicate hands, and nails hardly longer than a woman's. The creature was stretched out facedown, but its head was turned toward us so that half the face was visible. The visible eye was closed, but wasn't as heavy-lidded as Marcia's. In fact, it seemed to me that the face was attractive, with a kind of wild beauty, though there was more than a hint of cruelty about the mouth; the lower body of the creature was covered in black scales, each one coming to a fine point like a hair, the whole effect making me think of an insect.As I said, the black wings were folded across the back, and where they met was a hint of something lighter beneath. I suspected that, like some insects, the lamia had double wings. Four wings in all, the lighter pair beneath protected by the heavier defensive armor of the outer two.

  Mab sniffed loudly three times. "Dead, it looks. Dry and dead. But it don't smell that way. Something odd here. A mystery. Are they just in a deep sleep?"There must be a reason for this, Mab," I said, desperate to buy time. "It's a puzzle to me, too. No doubt we'll find the answers in those books we found in the other chest. But it's my guess that the other one is the same. That they're both familiars. Think how useful it would be to have something like this doing your bidding! Not a bad exchange for just surrendering a little of your blood…" "Wouldn't like to think how much blood this thing here would expect," Mab said, looking at me doubtfully and moving the lantern back a little way so the creature's face was in shadow once more. "Put em back in the trunks," she said, looking at her sisters. "Hurry up, Beth. And you help her, Jennet. They're horrible things, and I don't like the look of em one bit. Feel much better once they're safely back under lock and key."

  Obediently Beth seized the edge of the canvas, no doubt intending to wrap up the creature before putting it back in the trunk. But at that moment the moon came out, and instantly the lamia's visible eye opened wide.It seemed to look straight at me before giving a sort of shudder and coming up slowly onto its four limbs. The twins squealed in fear and ran back to the hatch. Mab merely stepped away cautiously, pulling the blade from her belt and holding it at the ready.The lamia's head turned to me so that I could see both its eyes. Then it sniffed very loudly before turning back toward the three sisters. By now, Beth was already scrambling through the hatch, Jennet close behind. The creature shook itself very deliberately, like a dog ridding itself of water droplets after emerging from a river, then glared at Mab."You didn't see this, Mab, did you?" I shouted."You knew, didn't you?" she accused. "You read what was in the trunks but didn't tell me! How could you, Tom? How could you do it? How could you betray me?"

  "I opened the trunks. I kept my word, and I hope you like what you see," I said quietly, trying to control my anger. How could she accuse me of betraying her when I'd been forced to do her bidding? I began to tremble, remembering how she'd held the knife against Mary's throat, and suddenly my words came out in a rush of anger."All three trunks belong to me! That's the truth, and you know it. And now you've lost the trunks and lost control of this tower, too. You didn't rule Pendle for long," I jibed, hearing my own voice ugly with mockery. Instantly I regretted having rubbed salt into the wound. There was no need to speak like that. Dad wouldn't have liked it.The lamia took a step toward Mab and she took two hurried steps backward. "You'll be sorry for this," she threatened, her voice low but filled with venom. "I actually cared about you, and now you've let me down! So you give me no choice! No choice at all. We will join up with the other clans and do what Wurmalde wants. She wants you dead. Wants to hurt your mam and thwart her plans. Wants to stop you from becoming a spook. And now I'm going to help her! See how you like it when Old Nick hunts you down! See how you feel when we send him after you!"The lamia advanced again, its movements slow and deliberate, and panic animated Mab's face. She gave a scream of terror and dropped both blade and lantern before scrambling down through the hatch after her sisters.Wasting no time, I walked forward, picked up the fallen blade, and used it to cut the string that bound the other long bundle before quickly unwrapping the sail- cloth to all
ow moonlight to fall upon the creature within.

  Moments later, both lamias were fully alert. They looked at me searchingly, but I couldn't read the expression in their eyes. I was suddenly very nervous, my mouth becoming dry. What if they didn't know me? What if Mam was wrong?Could these really be my aunts? Mam's sisters? I remembered my aunt Martha, on Dad's side, a kindly old lady with red cheeks and a ready smile. She was dead now, but I recalled her with fondness. These creatures couldn't be more different! And yes, I had to admit it: This meant that Mam must be a lamia, too.What had happened? Could Mam's sisters have stayed feral while she slowly shape-shifted into the domestic form, benign and kind? She'd been human in shape when Dad first met her. He'd been a sailor, his ship calling at a port in Greece. When he'd found her bound with a silver chain, her hand had also been nailed to the rock. Who'd done that and why? Did it have something to do with Wurmalde? Afterward Mam'd taken Dad back with her to a house with a Availed garden. They'd lived there happily for a while, but some nights Mam's two sisters had come to visit.

  Then I realized that my first guess was wrong. Dad had said they were tall, fierce-looking women. They'd seemed angry with him. He thought that was why Mam had insisted that they leave Greece and make their home in the County-to get away from her sisters.However, unknown to him, they must have been placed in those trunks when they were still domestic. Then they must have slowly shape-shifted back to the feral because they'd been deprived of human contact, dormant for years and years. It all seemed to point to that. I remembered something else that Mam had once said to me.None of us are either all good or all bad-we 're all somewhere in between -but there comes a moment in each life when we take an important step, either toward the light or toward the dark…maybe it's because of a special person we meet. Because of what your dad did for me, I stepped in the right direction, and that'swhy I'm here today. Had Mam perhaps not always been good? Had meeting Dad changed her? As my mind whirled with those thoughts, the two lamias turned away and headed for the open hatch, dropping through it in turn. I followed more slowly, first picking up the lantern that Mab had discarded. I climbed down into the wooden room that housed the device for lowering the drawbridge and looked through the second hatch into the vast living area below.