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 r
ead, 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.
CHAPTER
13
MY BLOOD
My whole body suddenly jerked but I felt no pain. I opened my eyes and squinted up into bright sunlight. It was late morning. I sat up and looked about me. My staff lay at my side.
Suddenly memory came flooding back. Alice! The cave!
I sprang to my feet. I was on a mountain path with steep crags on both sides. Whether or not it was the same track I'd been following the night before was impossible to say, but there was no sign of the cleft in the rock with its lamia cave, nor of the evidence of their feeding.
'Tom!'
I turned and saw Alice walking along the path towards me, tears streaming down her face. I'd thought she was dead, so without thinking I ran forward and wrapped my arms about her. All my doubts had disappeared. What did it matter what the Spook thought? At that moment, after all we'd been through, I didn't care. Alice returned my embrace, and for a long time we didn't move, but then she stepped back and held me at arm's length, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders.
'Oh, Tom – did last night really happen? It was dark and the lamia's teeth were tearing at me. I was growing faint with loss of blood and I thought it was all over. I was dying. Then, the next moment, the sun was shining. And there isn't a single mark on my body. Was it just a nightmare?'
'It did happen,' I told her. 'But you see, Grimalkin gave me two gifts – a blade and a dark wish. So when the lamia dragged you into her lair I used the wish to save you. Then your father appeared.'
So I told her what the Fiend had said – as much as I could remember; how he'd told me I was to be sacrificed. But I still didn't tell Alice that Mam was the original Lamia. I couldn't say it out loud. It hurt too much.
'He's just playing games with us,' Alice said bitterly. 'Using everything to his advantage as usual. As for you being a sacrifice – don't even give it a moment's thought. Your mam has risked everything to protect you. Even last night she sent you away from danger. Lying, he is, Tom. Lying as always . . .'
'Maybe. But he wasn't lying last spring when he told me you were his daughter, was he? And what he said last night is possible. Even though Mam loves me, she might well sacrifice me and accept the pain – if it brought victory. Maybe she's been protecting me so that she can sacrifice me when she needs to.'
'Your mam wouldn't do that, Tom.'
'Not even if it was the only way to defeat the dark? Remember, she had me for that reason. She once told the Spook that I was her "gift to the County". I was born for a purpose.'
'But she'd ask you first. Just like she asked you to give her the money from the trunks and come to Greece with her.'
I paused, remembering Mam's love for her family. 'I think you're right, Alice. If it's meant to happen, then she will ask me.'
'And what would your answer be, Tom?'
I didn't reply. I didn't even like to think about it.
'We both know you'd say yes.'
'But it would all be for nothing anyway,' I said bitterly. 'The Fiend will support the Ordeen with his own power while he lessens Mam's. He's already damaged her. Now she can't see into the future any longer. That's why she needs Mab. Even if the Ordeen was to be defeated, there's still the Fiend to reckon with. It all seems so hopeless.'
Without another word, we set off eastwards once more, following the meandering path through the mountains. It was a long time before we spoke again.
We finally descended through a pine forest, then crossed the arid plain towards Meteora. I knew that the monasteries were built on high rocks, so even if we'd wandered too far south, we should still be able to see them from a good distance.
On the second day of our journey we thought we saw dust rising into the sky on the horizon. It could have been Mam's party – or maybe it was the maenads who'd attacked them. So to avoid the risk of capture we kept our distance.
Then at last, to the north-east, we saw the rocks of Meteora. The closer we got, the more spectacular they appeared. Rising from green thickets of trees and scrub, huge pillars of rock, sculpted by the elements, towered above us. And perched on their summits were the famed monasteries. It seemed impossible that such buildings could have been constructed on those perilous heights, let alone made secure enough to withstand the ravages of weather and time.
The small walled town of Kalambaka lay at the foot of the rocks, bordered to the south by groves of olive trees. Shielding my eyes against the sun, I searched the horizon. Mam had feared that we might be too late, but there was as yet no sign of the Ordeen's citadel.
We skirted the town and made our camp deep within the thickets below the rocks, hiding away from any watchers. Only the monks could look down on us from their strongholds.
The town was lit by lanterns strung on ropes between the houses; they moved to and fro when the wind was up. That first night we spent hours watching them: the stars above slowly wheeling about the sky from east to west while the lanterns danced below. We ate well too. Alice caught some rabbits and they proved to be as succulent as any we'd tasted in the County.
On the second night, while we were eating, Alice sniffed danger and stood up quickly, her finger to her lips. But her warning came too late.
A massive shape came out of the trees into the clearing where we were eating. I heard a snort and a metallic sound, and at that moment the crescent moon appeared from behind a cloud, conjuring up a gleaming silver apparition before our startled gaze.
It was a horseman dressed in chain-mail, two great swords attached to his saddle. And what a horse he rode! This was no heavy lumbering beast such as those used to draw barges or pull wagons back in the County; it was a thoroughbred, fine and high-stepping, with an arched neck and a form built for speed. Its rider was a warrior from head to toe; he had an aquiline nose and high cheekbones, long hair and a full moustache that obscured his mouth.
The rider drew his sword, and for a moment I thought he intended to attack, but he simply indicated that we should leave the clearing. We didn't argue; we simply turned and headed into the trees.
At dawn we realized that this warrior was a scout, clearing the way for his followers. A large group of them – a thousand strong at least – were soon approaching across the plain. Their armour gleamed in the sunlight like burnished silver and the dust erupted behind them like a storm-cloud. They looked formidable.
They set up camp at the edge of the trees just north of the town. Who were they? I wondered.
'Do you think they're something to do with the Ordeen, Alice? Maybe more of her supporters?'
'Not sure, Tom, but your mam never mentioned anything about enemy warriors such as these, did she? Only that she was going to hire mercenaries to keep us safe from the maenads. That could well be them. In which case they're on our side. Didn't expect so many though.'
'It would be nice to think it's them, but we can't risk approaching them.'
So we kept our distance, retreating further into the trees, wondering who they were – friends or foes. As we waited, Alice turned to me, reached into the pocket of her dress and held up a small earthen jar. It was the blood jar she'd once showed me back in the County.
'I've been thinking about the Fiend a lot recently,' she said. 'We could make him keep his distance – from you at least – by using this.'
There were two methods that witches employed to keep the Fiend at bay. One was to bear him a child. Grimalkin had done just that, and as a consequence he was forced t
o keep away from her. The other was to use a blood jar. Alice claimed that this one contained a few drops of blood from the dead water witch, Morwena, who'd been the Fiend's daughter. If this was mixed with my blood, and carried by me, it would mean that he could have no contact with me.