'We've got to do it tonight,' Arkwright said. 'I want to get back to the mill as soon as possible. I've been away way too long as it is.'
'Well, let me search round Coniston Water then,' I said. 'I'll take one of the dogs with me – I'll be fine.'
Reluctantly he agreed. 'All right. You win. I'm not well enough to make it to Coniston Water tonight. You head back the way we came towards the north-west of the lake and search there. Keep your lantern shielded so you won't draw any unwelcome attention. If you see Morwena – or indeed anyone else acting suspiciously – don't take any chances. Just follow them at a distance. Beware of that bloodeye and just try to find out where they go to ground. Apart from that, do nothing. Just watch and report back to me here.
'If I feel better, I'll have a look around here; then, later, we can check out Lever's Water together. And take the bitch with you,' he commanded. 'It'll give you a better chance if you run into trouble. Reckon you can find your way back to Coniston Water from here?'
I nodded. The map was fixed inside my head.
'Right. Good luck and I'll see you back here.'
Without waiting for a reply, he bent down and whispered into Claw's ear, then patted her three times. After pulling the wooden shutters across the lantern, I headed for Coniston Water, Claw walking obediently at my side. I'd only gone a few steps when I heard Arkwright retching and groaning again. I was sure there was nothing wrong with the hotpot. The ale must have been very strong and he'd downed it far too quickly.
So with Claw at my side, I headed towards Coniston Water and the moon, which was climbing slowly above the trees.
As I walked down the hill, retracing my steps towards the village, an eerie cry came from directly ahead. I waited, tense and alert, sensing danger. There was something familiar about the sound. It could well be some sort of warning cry or signal. But then the strange call came again, almost directly overhead, and suddenly I remembered that I'd heard it before – on the marsh just minutes before I met Morwena and she'd dragged me into the slime. Immediately I glimpsed something flying back towards Goat's Water.
Without doubt it was some sort of bird and I resolved to ask Arkwright about it just as soon as I got the chance. It might be linked to the water witch. Some witches used either blood or bone magic, but others used familiars – creatures that became their eyes and ears and did their bidding. Maybe the strange bird was Morwena's?
Eventually I came to the village and passed quickly through its deserted streets, Claw padding at my heels. Just a few lights gleamed at upper windows. Once beyond the last house, I skirted the lake to the north shore, where I settled down within the shelter of some trees with a clear view of the shore, the lake beyond gleaming silver in the moonlight.
Time passed slowly, and although Claw and I searched high and low, I neither saw nor heard anything of note. I began to think about Alice, wondering what she was doing and whether she was missing me as much as I missed her. I thought about my master, John Gregory, too. Was he safely tucked up in his bed at Chipenden or, like me, out in the dark on spook's business?
Finally I decided to return to Goat's Water and Mr Arkwright – there was no sign of Morwena here.
The climb seemed harder this time, and although the path gradually levelled out, it was still some way around the Old Man. Soon I was crunching across snow again, following our footprints towards the lake. At last I came within view of the place where I'd left Arkwright. I was moving as quietly as possible so as not to attract the attention of anyone or anything that might be lurking on the fells, but suddenly, to my dismay, Claw started to howl and then bounded ahead of me.
It took me some time to catch up with her and I needed my staff to help me keep my feet on the slippery surface. As I drew closer, I pulled back the shutters on my lantern so that I could see better.
Immediately my heart sank. It seemed that Arkwright and Tooth had found Morwena. Or rather, she had found them. Tooth was dead, his body lying on the blood-stained snow. His throat had been ripped out. There were footprints around him – something with talons and webbed feet; something that had walked upright. There was another wide trail of blood leading to the lake shore. While Claw whined with grief for her dead mate, I gripped my staff tightly, numb with shock, and followed that trail right to the water's edge.
The lantern illuminated Arkwright's staff at the edge of the lake; one of his boots was half in, half out of the water. The leather was ripped and it looked as if it had been torn from his foot.
At first I had no doubt what had happened: Morwena had killed Tooth and then hooked Arkwright and dragged him into the water. Then I noticed more webbed prints further back. Lots of them. More than one water witch had been here. If Arkwright had encountered Morwena, she hadn't been alone. Had she attacked from the water while the others closed in from behind, giving Arkwright no chance of escape?
My heart lurched with fear. She could be submerged under the lake, watching me. There might be lots of witches, just waiting for their chance to attack. At any moment they might erupt from its calm surface and I would suffer the same fate.
Claw began to howl, that tormented sound echoing back from the high crag above. In a panic, I ran just as fast as I could. As each footstep carried me to safety, the howls of the dog became fainter and fainter. At one point I was afraid she might suffer the same fate as her mate. So I paused and whistled for her. I tried three times but got no response, so I pressed on towards the tavern.
Hungover as he was, Arkwright would have had little chance of defending himself. He'd been an experienced and successful spook but he'd made a big mistake in drinking so heavily. A mistake that had cost him his life.
I reached the safety of the tavern and locked myself in my room, unsure what else to do. As soon as it was light, I intended to head back to Chipenden and tell the Spook what had happened. I couldn't honestly say that I'd liked Arkwright but I was upset and shaken by the manner of his death. He'd been a good spook and would have taught me lots of useful – maybe vital – things. For all his bullying and drunken ways he'd been a powerful enemy of the dark and the County would be the worse for his passing.
But was I in immediate danger now? Doors could be broken down. If the landlord had played some part in this, the water witches would know who and where I was. Morwena might come for me herself or send other water witches to drag me back to the lake.
I remembered what Alice had said about using mirrors to communicate. The Spook wouldn't like it but I was desperate. I had to tell them what had happened at once. Perhaps the Spook would come north to help me? Maybe meet me halfway?
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned forward, placed both my palms against the cold glass of the mirror and started to think about Alice as she'd instructed. I tried to visualize her face and thought of the conversations we'd had, the happy times spent at the Spook's house at Chipenden. I concentrated hard but nothing happened.
After a while I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes but I kept seeing the horror of Tooth's body, the blood on the snow and Arkwright's boot lying in the water. I sat up and put my head in my hands. Would Alice sense me somehow and use what her aunt, Bony Lizzie, had taught her? Would Alice even now be chanting at the mirror back in the Spook's house in Chipenden?
How could it work when so much distance separated Alice and me? And what if my master caught her? Would he understand that it was necessary? He might send her away – perhaps it was just the excuse he was looking for.
After about ten minutes I placed my hands against the glass again. Now I thought about the time when I'd taken Alice to stay with her aunt in Staumin. I remembered eating the delicious rabbits that she had caught and cooked, and how afterwards she'd reached across and held my hand. Her left hand had held mine and I'd felt a little guilty, knowing the Spook wouldn't like it, but I'd been truly happy.
Immediately the mirror began to brighten, the glass warming beneath my palms, and suddenly there was Alice's face. I dropped my hands and star
ed back into her eyes.
Her mouth opened and she began to speak but the mirror was silent. I knew that witches used mirrors to spy on each other and their intended victims, but did they actually communicate by reading each other's lips? I couldn't make out what she was saying and shook my head. At that, she leaned forward and the mirror began to cloud. Quickly she wrote on the glass:
What did it mean? For a moment I was puzzled, but then I managed to decipher the message. The mirror had reversed her words. It was an instruction. Breathe and write! She was telling me how to speak to her.
So I leaned forward, misted the glass with my breath and wrote quickly:
Arkwright killed by water witch called Morwena. HELP!
Alice's eyes widened and she breathed on the glass and wrote again:
This time I found it easier to read. Where are you? So I wiped the glass with the palm of my hand and breathed on it again before writing:
Coniston. On way back. Tell Spook.
Meet me at Arkwright's watermill.
After a few seconds I wiped the mirror again so that I could see Alice's face. She nodded and gave me a faint smile but she looked very anxious. As I watched, her face faded until I was looking at my own reflection again.
Then I lay back on the bed and waited for dawn. The sooner I was clear of this place, the better.
CHAPTER 17
Pursuit
At first light I prepared to leave. The bill had been paid in advance for three days, covering our rooms and breakfasts. But I wouldn't risk showing my face downstairs. Questions would be asked about my master's disappearance; perhaps the landlord or his customers were in league with Morwena. I couldn't take any risks. So carrying my bag and staff, I slipped out by the back door and was soon heading south.
The easiest and most direct route was down the western shore of Coniston Water. I kept my distance from it, just in case Morwena or any of the other water witches were following me. But it was late afternoon, when I was already well past the lake's southern extremity, before I began to suspect that I was indeed being pursued.
There were faint but disturbing noises behind me: an occasional rustling in the undergrowth and once the distant crack of a breaking twig. At first it was hard to be sure because when I stopped, all became quiet. As soon as I walked on, the sounds continued, and gradually over the next few miles they seemed to be closing in on me. By now I was sure I was being stalked. The light was fading and I didn't relish the prospect of being hunted in the dark, so with my heart pounding, I put down my bag, released the blade from the top of my staff and turned to face my pursuer. I waited tensely, my body rigid, all my senses alert, but it wasn't a witch who emerged from the thickets to my rear. It was Claw.
She whined and came to lie at my feet, her head almost resting on my left shoe. Relieved, I let out a sigh and reached down to pat her head. I realized I was actually pleased to see her. A lot had happened since I'd been afraid to turn my back on her. If I was being pursued by witches, I now had a formidable ally.
'Good girl!' I said softly, then turned and continued on my way just as fast as I could, Claw close at my heels. My instincts told me that I was still in danger. The sooner I was back at the mill, the better, but I had a decision to make. I could take the long route east, following the wide curve of the bay, but this might enable any pursuers to overtake me or even cut me off. Alternatively I could cross the dangerous sands. That would mean waiting for the tide and the guide and would waste precious time, perhaps allowing Morwena to catch up with me anyway. It was a difficult choice but I finally opted for the sand crossing.
I was exhausted but forced myself to continue through the night. Keeping to the lower ground, I passed to the west of the hills where we'd stayed with the hermit but was soon forced to climb again. At last I began to descend towards the bay. The distant sea gleamed in the moonlight. The tide seemed a long way out, but was it safe to cross?
I'd have to wait for dawn, then try to find the guide. I didn't know where he lived but I just had to hope that he was on this side of the bay, not the far shore. I halted at last on the edge of a low cliff, staring out at the flat sands stretching into the distance. To the east there was a faint purple light on the horizon that hinted at sunrise but it was still well over an hour before dawn.
Claw stretched out on the frosty grass beside me but she seemed uneasy. Her ears were flat against her head and she kept growling low in her throat. At last she settled down and became quiet. My head kept nodding, but each time I jerked awake suddenly, alert for danger. The long walk had exhausted me, and without realizing it, I eventually fell into a dark, dreamless slumber.
I was probably asleep for no more than thirty minutes when a low growl from Claw and her teeth tugging at my breeches woke me. The sky was much lighter and a stiff breeze was blowing in from the bay. I could smell the approach of rain. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw something move. I looked up the hill. At first I could see nothing, but the hairs on the back of my neck began to rise and I immediately sensed danger. After persevering for a minute or so, I finally made out a figure moving down the slope towards me, keeping within the shelter of the trees. Claw growled again. Was it Morwena?
I stood up, clutching my staff. After a few moments I knew for sure that I was watching the approach of a water witch. It was something about the way she walked, a strange rolling of the body, perhaps caused by the talons and webbed toes. She was a creature more suited to water and bog than the firm surface of a grassy slope. But was it Morwena or another less dangerous witch? She was much nearer now but it was still impossible to tell.
Should I confront her? I had both my staff and my silver chain. In theory either was sufficient to deal with an ordinary water witch. But they could move very quickly indeed. If I let her get close enough, she'd hook me with her finger. I was good with my silver chain but the practice post in the Spook's garden was no match for the real thing. I'd faced Grimalkin, the witch assassin, and missed her – probably because of fear, nerves and exhaustion. But I was very tired now, and the fear was starting to build inside me.
If I failed with the chain, I'd have to keep her at bay with my staff but I would only get one opportunity. If I missed, she'd be under my guard. Would Claw try to help me then? The dog was certainly brave and loyal enough. But I remembered what had happened to her mate, Tooth.
I would be failing in my duty if I left a witch at large. What if she seized someone else because of my failure to act? A child maybe? No, I had to face her.
The witch had approached to within fifty paces when I changed my mind again. Her face was no longer in shadow and I could see that her left eye was closed. I could also see the sharp splinter of bone that pinned the two eyelids together. It was Morwena! Once she opened that bloodeye I'd be paralysed, petrified, helpless.
Claw growled a warning but it was too late. The witch reached towards her left eye and withdrew the pin. The blood-filled eye opened very wide and stared straight at me. I was already lost. I felt the strength leave my body; the will to move leave my mind. All I could see was that red eye growing brighter and larger.
Suddenly I heard a growl and felt a hard blow to my back, which knocked me clean off my feet. I was sent sprawling face down into the dirt, banging my forehead. For a moment I was stunned, but then I felt warm breath and Claw began to lick my face. I reached up and patted her with my right hand, realizing that I could move again. Immediately I understood. The dog had not been under the power of the witch. Morwena's Bloodeye could only transfix one person or animal at a time. Claw had leaped at me, hurling me to the ground, breaking the spell of the red eye.
I came quickly to my knees but kept my eyes down. I could hear the witch's feet slapping the ground as she ran full tilt down the slope towards me. Don't look at the witch! I told myself, keeping my eyes glued to the ground. Look anywhere except at that blood-filled eye!
I was on my feet in a flash and fleeing from her towards the shore, Claw at my heels. My sil
ver chain was still gripped in my left hand, but how could I ever hope to use it when one glance at my enemy would bind me to the spot? My legs trembled as I ran – surely I wasn't quick enough to escape her. I wanted to check over my shoulder and see how close she was but daren't for fear of that paralysing eye. At any moment I expected to feel the witch's talons pierce my neck or stab into my throat.