The Spook's Apprentice Part 9

The child stopped crying and tottered to its feet, its eyes very wide. *Don't worry. There's no need to be scared,' I said, trying to put as much rea.s.surance into my voice as possible. *I'm going to take you home to your mam.'

I put the candle on the floor and picked up the child. It smelled as bad as the rest of the room and it was cold and wet. I cradled it with my right arm and wrapped my cloak about it as best I could.

Suddenly the child spoke. *I'm Tommy,' it said. *I'm Tommy.'

*Well, Tommy,' I said, *we've got the same name. My name's Tommy too. You're safe now. You're going home.'

With those words, I picked up my staff and went into the pa.s.sageway and out through the front door.

Alice was standing in the yard near the gate. The lantern had gone out, but the moon was still s.h.i.+ning, and as I walked towards her, it threw my shadow onto the side of the barn, a giant shadow ten times bigger than I was.

I tried to pa.s.s her but she stepped directly into my path so that I was forced to halt.

*Don't meddle!' she warned, her voice almost a snarl, her teeth gleaming white and sharp in the moonlight. *Ain't none of your business, this.'

I was in no mood to waste time arguing with her, and when I moved directly towards her, Alice didn't try to stop me. She stepped back out of my way and called out after me, *You're a fool. Give it back before it's too late. They'll come after you. You'll never get away.'

I didn't bother to answer. I never even looked back. I went through the gate and began to climb away from the house.

It started to rain then, hard and heavy, straight into my face. It was the kind of rain that my dad used to call *wet rain'. All rain is wet, of course, but some kinds do seem to make a better and a faster job of soaking you than others. This was as wet as it got and I headed back towards the Spook's house as fast as I could.

I wasn't sure if I'd be safe even there. What if the Spook really was dead? Would the boggart still guard his house and garden?

Soon I had more immediate things to worry about. I began to sense that I was being followed. The first time I felt it, I came to a halt and listened, but there was nothing but the howling of the wind and the rain las.h.i.+ng into the trees and drumming onto the earth. I couldn't see much either because it was very dark now.

So I carried on, taking even bigger strides, just hoping that I was still heading in the right direction.

Once I came up against a thick, high hawthorn hedge and had to make a long detour to find a gate, all the time feeling that the danger behind was getting closer. It was just after I'd come through a small wood that I knew for certain that there was someone there. Climbing a hill, I paused for breath close to its summit. The rain had eased for a moment and I looked back down into the darkness, towards the trees.

I heard the crack and snap of twigs. Someone was moving very fast through the wood towards me, not caring where they put their feet.

At the crest of the hill I looked back once more. The first flash of lightning lit up the sky and the ground below, and I saw two figures come out of the trees and begin to climb the slope. One of them was female, the other shaped like a man, big and burly.

When the thunder crashed again Tommy began to cry. *Don't like thunder!' he wailed. *Don't like thunder!'

*Storms can't hurt you, Tommy,' I told him, knowing it wasn't true. They scared me as well. One of my uncles had been struck by lightning when he'd been out trying to get some cattle in. He'd died later. It wasn't safe being out in the open in weather like this. But although lightning terrified me, it did have its uses. It was showing me the way, each vivid flash lighting up my route back to the Spook's house.

Soon the breath was sobbing in my throat too, a mixture of fear and exhaustion, as I forced myself to go faster and faster, just hoping that we'd be safe as soon as we entered the Spook's garden. n.o.body was allowed on the Spook's property unless invited -I kept telling myself that over and over again, because it was our only chance. If we could just get there first the boggart would protect us.

I was in sight of the trees, the bench beneath them, the garden waiting beyond, when I slipped on the wet gra.s.s. The fall wasn't hard but Tommy began to cry even louder. When I'd managed to pick him up, I heard someone running behind me, feet thumping the earth.

I glanced back, struggling for breath. It was a mistake. My pursuer was about five or six paces ahead of Lizzie and catching me fast. Lightning flashed again and I saw the lower half of his face. It looked as if he had horns growing out of each side of his mouth, and as he ran, he moved his head from side to side. I remembered what I'd read in the Spook's library about the dead women who'd been found with their ribs crushed. If Tusk caught me, he'd do the same to me.

For a moment I was rooted to the spot, but he started to make a bellowing sound, just like a bull, and that started me moving again. I was almost running now. I would have sprinted if I could but I was carrying Tommy and I was too weary, my legs heavy and sluggish, the breath rasping in my throat. At any moment I expected to be grabbed from behind, but I pa.s.sed the bench where the Spook often gave me lessons and then, at last, I was beneath the first trees of the garden.

But was I safe? If I wasn't it was all over for both of us because there was no way I could outrun Tusk to the house. I stopped running and all I could manage was a few steps before I came to a complete halt, trying to regain my breath.

It was at that moment that something brushed past my legs. I looked down but it was too dark to see anything. First I felt the pressure, then I heard something purr, a deep throbbing sound that made the ground beneath my feet vibrate. I sensed it move on beyond me, towards the edge of the trees, positioning itself between us and those who'd been following. I couldn't hear any running now, but I heard something else.

Imagine the angry howl of a torn cat multiplied a hundred times. It was a mixture between a throbbing growl and a scream, filling the air with its warning challenge, a sound that could have been heard for miles. It was the most terrifying and threatening sound I'd ever heard and I knew then why the villagers never came anywhere near the Spook's house. That cry was filled with death.

Cross this line, it said, and I'll rip out your heart. Cross this line and I'll gnaw your bones to pulp and gore. Cross this line and you'll wish you'd never been born.

So for now we were safe. By now Bony Lizzie and Tusk would be running back down the hill.

n.o.body would be foolish enough to tangle with the Spook's boggart. No wonder they'd needed me to feed Mother Malkin the blood cakes.

There was hot soup and a blazing fire waiting for us in the kitchen. I wrapped little Tommy in a warm blanket and fed him some soup. Later I brought down a couple of pillows and made up a bed for him close to the fire. He slept like a log while I listened to the wind howling outside and the rain pattering against the windows.

It was a long night but I was warm and comfortable and I felt at peace in the Spook's house, which was one of the safest places in the whole wide world. I knew now that nothing unwelcome could even enter the garden, never mind cross the threshold. It was safer than a castle with high battlements and a wide moat. I began to think of the boggart as my friend, and a very powerful friend at that.

Just before noon I carried Tommy down to the village. The men were already back from the Long Ridge, and when I went to the butcher's house, the instant he saw the child, his weary frown turned into a broad smile. I briefly explained what had happened, only going into as much detail as was necessary.

Once I'd finished, he frowned again. *They need sorting out once and for all,' he said.

I didn't stay long. After Tommy had been given to his mother and she'd thanked me for the fifteenth time, it became obvious what was going to happen. By then, about thirty or so of the village men had gathered. Some of them were carrying clubs and stout sticks and they were muttering angrily about *stoning and burning'.

I knew that something had to be done but I didn't want to be a part of it. Despite all that had happened, I couldn't stand the thought of Alice being hurt, so I went for a walk on the fells for an hour or so to clear my head, before walking slowly back towards the Spook's house. I'd decided to sit on the bench for a while and enjoy the afternoon sun, but someone was there already.

It was the Spook. He was safe after all! Until that moment I'd avoided thinking about what I was going to do next. I mean, how long would I have stayed in his house before deciding that he wasn't going to come back? Now it was all sorted out because there he was, staring across the trees to where a plume of brown smoke was rising. They were burning Bony Lizzie's house.

When I got close to the bench, I noticed a big, purple bruise over his left eye. He saw me glance at it and gave me a tired smile.

*We make a lot of enemies in this job,' he said, *and sometimes you need eyes in the back of your head. Still, things didn't work out too badly because now we've one less enemy to worry about near Pendle. Take a pew,' he said, patting the bench at his side. *What have you been up to? Tell me what's been happening here. Start at the beginning and finish at the end, leaving nothing out.'

So I did. I told him everything. When I'd finished he stood up and looked down at me, his green eyes staring into mine very hard.

*I wish I'd known Lizzie was back. When I put Mother Malkin into the pit, Lizzie left in a bit of a hurry and I didn't think she'd ever have the nerve to show her face again. You should have told me about meeting the girl. It would have saved everybody a lot of trouble.'

I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

*What was the worst thing that happened?' he asked.

The memory came back, sharp and clear, of the old witch grabbing my boot and trying to drag herself out of the water. I remembered her scream as she gripped the end of the Spook's staff.

When I told him about it, he sighed long and deep.

*Are you sure she was dead?' he asked.

I shrugged. *She wasn't breathing. Then her body was carried to the middle of the river and swept away.'

*Well, it was a bad business, all right,' he said, *and the memory of it will stay with you for the rest of your life, but you'll just have to live with it. You were lucky in taking the smallest of my staffs with you.

That's what saved you in the end. It's made of rowan, the most effective wood of all when dealing with witches. It wouldn't usually have bothered a witch that old and that strong, but she was in running water.

So you were lucky, but you did all right for a new apprentice. You showed courage, real courage, and you saved a child's life. But you made two more serious mistakes.'

I bowed my head. I thought I'd probably made more than two but I wasn't going to argue.

*Your most serious mistake was in killing that witch,' the Spook said. *She should have been brought back here. Mother Malkin is so strong that she could even break free of her bones. It's very rare but it can happen. Her spirit could be born into this world again, complete with all her memories. Then she'd come looking for you, lad, and she'd want revenge.'

*That would take years though, wouldn't it?' I asked.

*A newborn baby can't do much. She'd have to grow up first.'

"That's the worst part of it,' the Spook said. *It could happen sooner than you think. Her spirit could seize someone else's body and use it as her own. It's called " possession" and it's a bad business for everybody concerned. After that, you'll never know when, and from which direction, the danger will come.

*She might possess the body of a young woman, a la.s.s with a dazzling smile, who'll win your heart before she takes your life. Or she might use her beauty to bend some strong man to her will, a knight or a judge, who'll have you thrown into a dungeon where you'll be at her mercy. Then again, time will be on her side. She might attack when I'm not here to help -maybe years from now when you're long past your prime, when your eyesight's failing and your joints are starting to creak.

*But there's another type of possession - one that's more likely in this case. Much more likely. You see, lad, there's a problem with keeping a live witch in a pit like that. Especially one so powerful who's spent her long life practising blood magic. She'll have been eating worms and other slithery things, with the wet constantly soaking into her flesh. So in the same way that a tree can slowly be petrified and turned into rock, her body will have been slowly starting to change. Gripping the rowan staff would have stopped her heart, pus.h.i.+ng her over the barrier into death, and being washed away by the river might have speeded up the process.

*In this case, she'll still be bound to her bones, like most other malevolent witches, but because of her great strength she'll be able to move her dead body. You see, lad, she'll be what we call "wick". It's an old County word that you're no doubt familiar with. Just as a head of hair can be wick with lice, her dead body is now wick with her wicked spirit. It'll be heaving like a bowl of maggots and she'll crawl, slither or drag herself towards her chosen victim. And instead of being hard, like a petrified tree, her dead body will be soft and pliable, able to squeeze into the tiniest s.p.a.ce. Able to ooze up someone's nose or into their ear and possess their body.

*There are only two ways to make sure that a witch as powerful as Mother Malkin can't come back.

The first is to burn her. But n.o.body should have to suffer pain like that. The other way is too horrible even to think about. It's a method few have heard about because it was practised long ago, in a land far away over the sea. According to their ancient books, if you eat the heart of a witch she can never return.

And you have to eat it raw.

*If we practise either method, we're no better than the witch we kill,' said the Spook. *Both are barbaric. The only alternative left is the pit. That's cruel as well, but we do it to protect the innocents, those who'd be her future victims. Well, lad, one way or the other, now she's free. There's trouble ahead for sure, but there's little we can do about it now. We'll just have to be on our guard.'

*I'll be all right,' I said. *I'll manage somehow.'

*Well, you'd better start by learning how to manage a boggart,' the Spook said, shaking his head sadly.

*That was your other big mistake. A whole Sunday off every week? That's far too generous!

Anyway, what should we do about that?' he asked, gesturing towards a thin plume of smoke that was still just visible to the south-east.

I shrugged. *I suppose it'll be all over by now,' I said. *There were a lot of angry villagers and they were talking about stoning.'

*All over with? Don't you believe it, lad. A witch like Lizzie has a sense of smell better than any hunting dog. She can sniff out things before they happen and would've been gone long before anyone got near. No, she'll have fled back to Pendle, where most of the brood live. We should follow now, but I've been on the road for days and I'm too weary and sore and need to gather my strength. But we can't leave Lizzie free for too long or she'll start to work her mischief again. I'll have to go after her before the end of the week and you'll be coming with me. It won't be easy but you might as well get used to the idea. But first things first, so follow me ...'

As I followed, I noticed that he had a slight limp and was walking more slowly than usual. So whatever had happened on Pendle, it hadn't been without cost to himself. He led me into the house, up the stairs and into the library, halting beside the furthest shelves, the ones near the window.

*I like to keep my books in my library,' he said, *and I like my library to get bigger rather than smaller.

But because of what's happened, I'm going to make an exception.'

He reached up and took a book from the very top shelf and handed it to me. *You need this more than I do,' he said. *A lot more.'

As books went it wasn't very big. It was even smaller than my notebook. Like most of the Spook's books, it was bound in leather and had its t.i.tle printed both on the front cover and on the spine. It said: Possession: the d.a.m.ned, the Dizzy and the Desperate.

*What does the t.i.tle mean?' I asked.

*What it says, lad. Exactly what it says. Read the book and you'll find out.'

When I opened the book, I was disappointed. Inside, every word on every page was printed in Latin, a language I couldn't read.

*Study it well and carry it with you at all times,' said the Spook. *It's the definitive work.'

He must have seen me frowning because he smiled and jabbed at the book with his finger. *Definitive means that so far it's the best book that's ever been written about possession, but it's a very difficult subject and it was written by a young man who still had a lot to learn. So it's not the last word on the subject and there's more to discover. Turn to the back of the book.'

I did as he told me and found that the last ten or so pages were blank.

*If you find out anything new, then just write it down there. Every little bit helps. And don't worry about the fact that it's in Latin. I'll be starting your lessons as soon as we've eaten.'

We went for our afternoon meal, which was cooked almost to perfection. As I swallowed down my last mouthful, something moved under the table and began to rub itself against my legs. Suddenly the sound of purring could be heard. It gradually got louder and louder until all the plates and dishes on the sideboard began to rattle.

*No wonder it's happy,' said the Spook, shaking his head. *One day off a year would have been nearer the mark! Still, not to worry, it's business as usual and life goes on. Bring your notebook with you, lad, we've a lot to get through today.'

So I followed the Spook down the path to the bench, uncorked the bottle of ink, dipped in my pen and prepared to take notes.

*Once they've pa.s.sed the test in Horshaw,' said the Spook, starting to limp up and down in front of the bench, *I usually try to ease my apprentices into the job as gently as possible. But now that you've been face to face with a witch, you know how difficult and dangerous the job can be and I think you're ready to find out what happened to my last apprentice. It's linked to boggarts, the topic we've been studying, so you might as well learn from it. Find a clean page and write down this for a heading ...'

I did as I was told. I wrote down, *How to Bind a Boggart'. Then, as the Spook told the tale, I took notes, struggling to keep up as usual.

As I already knew, binding a boggart involved a lot of hard work which the Spook called *laying'.

First a pit had to be dug as close as possible to the roots of a large, mature tree. After all the digging the Spook had made me do, I was surprised to learn that a spook rarely dug the pit himself. That was something only done in an absolute emergency. A rigger and his mate usually attended to that.

Next you had to employ a mason to cut a thick slab of stone to fit over the pit like a gravestone. It was very important that the stone was cut to size accurately so as to make a good seal. After you'd coated the lower edge of the stone and the inside of the pit with the mixture of iron, salt and strong glue, it was time to get the boggart safely inside.

That wasn't too difficult. Blood, milk or a combination of the two worked every time. The really difficult bit was dropping the stone into position as it fed. Success depended on the quality of the help you hired.

It was best to have a mason standing by and a couple of riggers using chains controlled from a wooden gantry placed above the pit, so as to lower the stone down quickly and safely.

That was the mistake that Billy Bradley made. It was late winter and the weather was foul and Billy was in a rush to get back to his warm bed. So he cut corners.

He used local labourers, who hadn't done that type of work before. The mason had gone off for his supper, promising to return within the hour, but Billy was impatient and couldn't wait. He got the boggart into the pit without too much trouble but ran into difficulties with the slab of stone. It was a wet night and it slipped, trapping his left hand under its edge.

The chain jammed so they couldn't lift the stone, and while the labourers struggled with it, and one of them ran back to get the mason, the boggart, in a fury at being trapped under the stone, began to attack Billy's fingers. You see, it was one of the most dangerous boggarts of all. They're called *Rippers' and they usually just feed from cattle, but this one had got the taste for human blood.

By the time the stone was lifted, almost half an hour had pa.s.sed, and by then it was too late. The boggart had bitten off Billy's fingers as far down as the second knuckle and had been busily sucking the blood from his body. His screams of pain had faded away to a whimper, and when they got his hand free, only his thumb was left. Soon afterwards he died of shock and loss of blood.

*It was a sad business,' said the Spook, *and now he's buried under the hedge, just outside the churchyard at Layton - those who follow our trade don't get to rest their bones in hallowed ground. It happened just over a year ago, and if Billy had lived, I wouldn't be talking to you now because he'd still be my apprentice. Poor Billy, he was a good lad and he didn't deserve that, but it's a dangerous job and if it's not done right...'

The Spook looked at me sadly then shrugged. *Learn from it, lad. We need courage and patience, but above all, we never rush. We use our brains, we think carefully, then we do what has to be done. In the normal course of events I never send an apprentice out on his own until his first year of training is over.

Unless, of course,' he added with a faint smile, *he takes matters into his own hands. Then again, I've got to feel sure he's ready for it. Anyway, first things first,' he said. *Now it's time for your first Latin lesson...'

Chapter Eleven.