‘A ring a ring of roses, a fist full of thorns,
A ring a ring of roses, a head full of horns.
I’ll give a laugh and then a frown
So they all fall down!’
She giggled and repeated the last line as if it pleased her: ‘So they all fall down!’
At that, Alice seemed to lose her balance, and fell down hard, giggling. Then she put back her head and laughed loudly, and it was a long time before she stopped. Finally she was quiet, and a solemn expression settled upon her face. She began to crawl towards me, coming so close that our faces were almost touching.
‘I can make ’em all fall down, Tom. Ain’t that true? Even Grimalkin, the strongest of ’em all – I could do it to her too. Don’t you believe me?’
She was staring intently into my eyes. I nodded in agreement, simply to humour her. My wrists were still burning and throbbing, and I felt as if I was going to be sick any moment, the bile rising in my throat.
Alice now moved her head up and brought her mouth close to my left hand. She gripped the twine binding my wrist with her teeth and bit through it. I gasped with pain. Then she did the same to my right wrist.
I lowered my arms, relieved to be free. No matter what dark powers Alice had used, at that moment I truly didn’t care. I had my life back when I thought I’d lost it.
Next Alice circled my left wrist with her fingers and thumbs. There was a sudden sharp pain, followed by a tingling sensation that radiated from her thumbs to my fingers and then up through my wrist and arm. And the throbbing pain began to lessen. She did the same to my right wrist, then leaned down and put her arm round my back, easing me to my feet.
‘Think you can walk, Tom?’ she asked.
I nodded.
‘Then it’s best we get away from here. The ones who got away won’t stay scared for ever. They’re mages and used to dealing with the dark.’
I stared at Alice. Apart from the colour of her hair, she seemed almost back to normal. ‘Are you better, Alice?’ I asked.
She bit her top lip and shook her head. Her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Better? I’ll never be better now, Tom. But I want to be with you. I want that more than anything else in the world. It’s what’s just saved us both.’
I sighed and shook my head. ‘We need to talk about all this. Where did you get the power to do that?’
‘Not now, Tom. I need some time. We’ll have no peace when we get back – not after all that’s happened – but come to my room tomorrow night and I’ll tell you what I can. Is it right what you said yesterday? Did you really manage to bind the Fiend?’ she asked me.
I nodded. ‘Yes, it’s true. We’re free again, Alice.’
She smiled and took my hand. ‘So we have a little time, Tom – a little breathing space to think of a way to sort him out once and for all.’
I frowned. ‘But the first thing is to get back to Shey’s house,’ I said. ‘After that business in the chicken coop I doubt we’ll be welcome there any more. You do remember what happened there …?’
Alice nodded sadly. ‘I remember everything,’ she said. ‘I’ll try and explain tomorrow.’
As we set off, I looked back. Four or five crows were pecking at something on the grass. One took flight, swooping low over us before soaring up to land on a branch. In its beak it was holding one of the dead witch’s fingers.
I gripped Alice’s hand even more tightly. It was good to be together again.
Back at the house, it took all my powers of persuasion to deflect Shey’s anger from Alice; but, with the Spook’s help, he and his men were finally persuaded that she had been under the influence of a spell, but was now restored to her old self.
With that first crisis over, we decided not to tell the Spook anything for now. I knew he was wondering what had really happened, but realized that this was not the time to question us closely.
We didn’t even have the problem of explaining away the lacerations to our wrists. By the time we reached the house they were almost completely healed – with no scars to show what had been done to us. Healing was a benign act, but the exercise of such extreme power could only have come from the dark. Exhausted though I was, I slept little for the remainder of that night.
In the morning there was news of the war brought by a despatch rider from Dublin.
The Spook came to tell me himself:
‘Good news, lad, really good news. The enemy have been defeated in a big battle north of Priestown and have fled in disarray to the very southern border of the County. They are now in full retreat. We can go home, lad, back to the County. I can rebuild my house and start to collect and write books for a new library!’ There were tears glistening in his eyes; tears of hope and joy.
But despite that good news, I dreaded my forthcoming talk with Alice. What had happened to her in the dark? What had she become? Why could she never be better again? Was she a malevolent witch at last? The way she had slain our enemies the previous night made it look that way.
After everyone had gone to bed and the house was quiet, I went to talk to Alice. This time I didn’t bother to rap on her bedroom door. She was expecting me, and I certainly didn’t want to risk waking the Spook, whose room was just a little way down the corridor.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring through the window into the darkness. As I entered the room, softly closing the door behind me, she turned towards me and smiled. I picked up the candle from the dressing table and set it on the window ledge. Next I drew up a chair and sat down facing her.
‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.
‘All right, Tom. Leastways, I ain’t too bad as long as I don’t think about what’s happened.’
‘Do you want to talk about it? Would that help or just make it worse?’
‘Whether I want to talk about it or not ain’t the point, Tom. You deserve to know it all. Then you’ve got to decide if you still want to be my friend.’
‘Whatever you tell me, I’ll still be your friend,’ I told her. ‘We’ve been through too much together to go our separate ways now. And we need each other to survive. But for you I’d be dead now – cut to pieces by that witch and fed to the crows.’
‘What I did I can’t undo. And I wouldn’t if I could – otherwise I’d have lost you for ever, and lost my own life too. But I liked it, Tom. That’s the horror. I enjoyed destroying that witch. Whenever I hurt or killed something from the dark before, I felt sick afterwards, but not this time. I liked testing my strength against hers. I liked winning. I’ve changed. I’m like Grimalkin now. That’s how she feels. She loves a fight! I killed – and I didn’t care!’
‘Is it because you’ve spent so long in the dark, do you think?’ I asked, keeping my voice low. ‘Is that what’s changed you?’
‘Must be, Tom, and I can’t help it. When I came back from the dark, I didn’t think it was real at first. I thought I was still there. That’s why I was scared and shrank away from you. Those who served the Fiend often played tricks like that on me. Once before, I thought they’d sent me back to our world. I saw you at the edge of a wood. Really thought it was you too. You smiled at me and squeezed my hand. But it was just a trick. You slowly turned into a devil. I watched your face warp, and twisty horns start to sprout from your forehead. And I realized that I hadn’t left the dark at all. So I thought what Pan said was just another trick and the same was going to happen again. I thought you were just a devil with a human face.’
I nodded. I had thought Alice was insane, but what she said made perfect sense. It would be the natural reaction of somebody who thought that the world wasn’t real; that it was an illusion created by the dark to torment her.
‘But how did you know it was me this time?’ I asked. ‘Even though they tied me to the tree and were about to kill me, it could still have been a trick.’
‘When I was trapped in the dark, the devil that pretended to be you had his arms covered. But here, as soon as they ripped your sleeves off, I saw my brand on your a
rm, Tom. That mark is very special to me and you – it couldn’t be faked even by the Fiend himself!’
The scars she’d left on my arm had never faded. It was her special brand that marked me as belonging to her and no other witch.
I nodded, but then thought of something else. ‘But what about the chicken coop, Alice? What about that? Why did you do that?’
Alice shivered, so I leaned forward and put my arm around her shoulder. It was a long time before she answered.
‘I’d only thought to escape and was heading for the wall. But then I smelled the warm blood pumping through their veins and I couldn’t help myself. It was a terrible urge to drink blood. Being in the dark has changed me, Tom. Ain’t the same, am I? I think I belong to the dark now. What if I can’t cross running water any more? Old Gregory will know what I am instantly!’
This was really worrying. If my master had firm proof that Alice was a dark witch, he’d bind her in a pit for the rest of her life; no matter how good a friend she’d proved, he would do what he thought was his duty as a spook.
I thought back to the words Mam had once spoken about Alice:
She was born with the heart of a witch and she’s little choice but to follow that path.
But then Mam had gone on to say that there was more than one type of witch: Alice might turn out to be benign rather than malevolent. The third possibility was that she would end up somewhere between good and evil.
That girl could become the bane of your life, a blight, a poison on everything you do, she had told me. Or she might just turn out to be the best and strongest friend you’ll ever have.
In my mind there was no doubt that the latter was true. But was it possible that Alice could become a malevolent witch and still be my ally? Wasn’t that true of Grimalkin?
But I had one more question: ‘Alice – where did you get all that power from? Is it because you were in the dark for so long?’
Alice nodded but she looked doubtful. For a moment I thought she was trying to hide something, but then she spoke slowly. ‘I think I’ve brought power back from the dark’ – she paused and looked at me – ‘but I’ve always had more power than I’ve shown to you, Tom. I was warned by someone not to use it – to bury it deep inside me and try to forget it was there. Do you know why, Tom?’
I shook my head.
‘Because each time you use such dark power, it changes you. Bit by bit you get closer to the dark, until eventually you are part of it. Then you’ve lost yourself and can never get back to what you once were.’
I understood. This was why the Spook feared so much for us both. I remembered something else Mam had once said to me when I told her how lonely my life as a spook was proving.
How can you be lonely? You’ve got yourself, haven’t you? If you ever lose yourself, then you’ll really be lonely.
I hadn’t fully understood her words then, but now I did. She meant the integrity, the spark of goodness within you that makes you who you really are. Once that was extinguished, you were lost and truly alone, with only the dark for company.
Once again, I’ve written most of this from memory, just using my notebook when necessary.
Tomorrow we begin our journey back to the County. The first stage is to cross Ireland. But many streams and rivers lie in our path. Will Alice be able to cross them? Only time will tell.
The Spook knows nothing of this, and he seems fitter, stronger and more cheerful than at any time during the past two years. We still have the majority of the money that we earned dealing with the jibbers in Dublin. My master says he is going to use it to start rebuilding his house, beginning with the roof, kitchen and library.
As for Grimalkin, so far we have heard nothing more from her. We can only hope that she managed to elude or slay her pursuers and that the Fiend’s head is still safely in her possession.
In addition to my staff and silver chain, I now have a third weapon – the sword given to me by Cuchulain, the Destiny Blade. I will need its sharp edges to defend myself against the denizens of the dark, who will pursue me in revenge for binding the Fiend.
The time is fast approaching when I will no longer be an apprentice; I will be a spook, and I am determined to be every bit as good as my master. In addition to that, I am my mother’s son, with the special gifts that she has passed down to me. The dark may pursue me, but the time will come when what my mother foretold will come to pass. And as Mam and Grimalkin both prophesied, I shall become the hunter, and they will run from me. My time is coming, and that day is not very far away.
War will have changed the County for ever, but there’ll still be the dark to fight. I just hope that my family has survived.
Despite all that’s happened, I’m still the Spook’s apprentice and we’re on our way back to Chipenden. We are going home at last.
Thomas J. Ward
About the Author
Joseph Delaney lives in Lancashire. His home is in the middle of boggart territory and his village has a boggart called the Hall Knocker which was laid to rest under the step of a house near the church.
THE WARDSTONE CHRONICLES
BOOK ONE:
THE SPOOK’S APPRENTICE
BOOK TWO:
THE SPOOK’S CURSE
BOOK THREE:
THE SPOOK’S SECRET
BOOK FOUR:
THE SPOOK’S BATTLE
BOOK FIVE:
THE SPOOK’S MISTAKE
BOOK SIX:
THE SPOOK’S SACRIFICE
BOOK SEVEN:
THE SPOOK’S NIGHTMARE
BOOK EIGHT:
THE SPOOK’S DESTINY
ALSO AVAILABLE
THE SPOOK’S STORIES:
WITCHES
THE SPOOK’S BESTIARY
COMING SOON
SPOOK’S:
I AM GRIMALKIN
THE SPOOK’S DESTINY
AN RHCB DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 40901478 2
Published in Great Britain by RHCB Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Books
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2011
Copyright © Joseph Delaney, 2011
First Published in Great Britain by The Bodley Head, 2011
The right of Joseph Delaney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
‘I am Grimalkin, and I have already chosen those I will kill’
Grimalkin has made it her lifetime’s ambition to destroy the Fiend, avenging the brutal murder of her son.
Having grudgingly joined forces with the Spook and his apprentice, Tom, and assisted them in the binding of the Fiend she is now on the run.
And her mission is deadly.
In order to keep the Fiend’s spirit bound for ever she must keep his decapitated head in her possession.
No matter who – or what – comes after it …
This latest, chilling instalment in the Wardstone Chronicles follows Grimalkin, the terrifying witch a
ssassin, feared wherever she is known.
Keep reading for a taste of the dark …
‘Each day say to yourself that you are the best, the strongest and the most deadly.
Eventually you will start to believe it.
Finally, it will come true.
It came true for me.
I am Grimalkin.’
Once I reached the centre of the wood, I swung the heavy leather sack from my shoulder and placed it on the ground before me. Then I knelt and undid the cord that sealed it, to be met by the rank stink of what lay within. I grimaced and drew forth what it contained, holding it before my face by its hair which was greasy and matted with dirt.
It was very dark beneath the trees, and the moon would not rise for another hour. But my witchy eyes could see well despite the lack of light and I gazed upon the severed head of the Fiend, the Devil himself.
It was a terrible sight to behold. I had stitched the eyelids together so that he could see nothing; I had stuffed his mouth with a large, green, bitter apple wrapped in a tangle of rose-thorns, so that he could not speak. He had been well looked after; dealt with exactly as he deserved. Neither the head nor the apple had rotted despite the stench; the first was due to his power, the second a result of my magic.
I spread the sack on the ground and lowered the head onto it. Then I sat cross-legged opposite it, scrutinizing my enemy carefully.
Somehow it looked smaller but was still almost twice the size of the average human head. Was it shrinking as a result of being separated from its body? The horns that protruded from its forehead were coiled and curved like those of a ram, the nose resembled that of an eagle. It was a cruel face and deserved the cruelty that I had inflicted upon it.