The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles) (15 page)

I lunged at the daemon, but it quickly retreated, and the tip of my blade missed it by less than an inch. I swung at it again, but it evaded that blow too. It snarled at me and took a step forward, preparing to attack. I remembered the speed of the strigoi that had attacked me in the library, and immediately started to focus on slowing time.

Suddenly I felt the sword move in my hand, and blood began to drip from the ruby eyes in the hilt. I became one with the blade. Gripping it with both hands, I took one step to the left, two to the right, and then, with all my strength, brought the blade down vertically upon the head of the strigoi. It sliced clean through its skull, cleaving it to the jaw, and the creature fell at my feet. I tugged the blade free, feeling a tremendous sense of satisfaction.

As I had expected, an orange helical light spiralled up from the daemon, spun there for a couple of seconds, and then shot up into the sky, disappearing over the treetops. I had killed the body, but its soul was still free. Would it now, like the partner of Mistress Fresque, go in search of another host?

Still shaking with anger, I returned the Destiny Blade to its sheath and turned to look at the man, who had crawled onto his knees. He stared up at me, his eyes wide with astonishment. But he couldn’t have been more surprised than me – it was Judd Brinscall.

‘You betrayed us!’ I shouted. ‘You led us into the clutches of those daemons!’

He tried to speak, opening his mouth, but no words came out. I leaned down, put my hand on his shoulder and dragged him to his feet. He felt like a dead weight leaning against me, and his whole body was trembling. He stank of blood and the earth he’d been entombed in. I thought of what had been done to my master, and I had half a mind to put him back in the pit and cover it with the stone. No doubt another strigoi would find him and finish him off. It was no more than he deserved!

I started to push him towards the pit but suddenly thought of Dad and how he’d taught me right from wrong. And no matter what Judd Brinscall had done, it was wrong to give him back to the strigoi. And I wondered about his situation: was his reward for betraying us to be drained of blood? It didn’t make sense. Not only that  . . .  I’d run like a coward myself. Who was I to judge him?

But it was something to worry about later – we had to make our escape before something else found us.

‘We must get away from here,’ I told him. ‘We need to cross the river.’

Very slowly we began our descent. I was nervous, expecting to be attacked at any time – maybe by a strigoica, the partner of the creature I’d just encountered. Or maybe the witches would return – nine orbs that would fall upon us and suck away our lives without spilling a drop of blood. I had no defences against such an attack.

Judd groaned from time to time, as if in pain, and I had to keep stopping to rest because it was hard work; I was almost carrying him. At last we reached the river, but something told me we had to cross. It was safer on the other bank. Maybe the creatures couldn’t cross running water – though it would be no barrier to witches in the form of orbs; they could soar across without being affected.

By now I was exhausted, but at last I dragged Judd across the bridge and we collapsed together on the far bank. Instantly he fell into a deep sleep.

I started to think things through and tried to decide on my
next
move. I needed to contact Alice and let her know what had happened. It was also vital to warn Grimalkin of the threat. She had to keep the Fiend’s head away from this cursed place at all costs. But I needed a mirror to do that. It would have to wait until daylight, when I could return to my room.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes, the sun was just above the eastern moors. I rose to my feet and yawned, stretching to relieve the stiffness in my limbs.

I stared down angrily at Judd, who lay at my feet; his gown was torn and stained with blood where the strigoi had bitten him. There were livid purple puncture marks on his neck.

He suddenly opened his eyes and sat up, then groaned and held his head in his hands for a while, his whole body shuddering as he drew in deep breaths of air. At last he looked up at me. ‘Where’s your master?’ he cried.

‘He’s dead,’ I told him bluntly, feeling my throat tighten with emotion. ‘No – it’s worse than that. They’ve cut his head from his body but it still talks. They’ve used powerful dark magic, and his soul is a prisoner inside that head – and in terrible pain. I have to free him. I have to bring him peace. And it’s all thanks to you. Why didn’t you warn us? Why did you lead us into a trap? You claimed to know Mistress Fresque. Surely you realized that she was a daemon?’

He just stared at me without replying.

‘It was all very convenient, the way you had to go off to deal with that supposed boggart, leaving us to visit her house alone. You knew what was going to happen, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, I knew. It’s a long story but I had little choice. Believe
me
– I didn’t want to do it. I’m sorry for what happened.’

‘Sorry!’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s easy to say but it means nothing.’

He looked at me for a few moments without speaking before turning away. Then he reached towards me with his left hand. ‘Help me up, Tom!’

Once on his feet, he swayed as if about to fall. I didn’t try to steady him. At that moment he could have fallen onto his face and smashed his teeth in for all I cared.

‘I need food. I’m weak – he took so much blood from me,’ he muttered.

Could I trust him? I wondered. He certainly wasn’t in league with the daemons now. I had to take a chance.

‘I have rooms at the tavern over there,’ I said, pointing. ‘I have money as well. I can buy us breakfast.’

Judd nodded. ‘I’d be grateful for that, but go slowly. I’m as weak as a new-born kitten.’

There were fewer people about today, and I led the way through the near-empty streets towards the inn. I had to rap on the door a long time before the innkeeper finally opened it. He bent forward and scowled into my face as if trying to intimidate me.

‘I’m surprised to see you again, boy! You must have more lives than a cat.’

‘Mr Brinscall here will be using my master’s room,’ I told him as we went inside. ‘But first we need a very big breakfast—’

‘Aye, and make it thick slices of ham, eggs, sausage and lots of bread and butter. Oh, and a big pot of tea and a bowl of sugar,’ Judd interrupted.

‘Let’s see the colour of your money first!’ the innkeeper snapped angrily, noting his dirty ragged gown.

‘I’ll pay the bill, and in silver,’ I told him.

‘Then pay me before you cross that bridge again!’ he sneered; then, without another word, went off to fry our breakfast.

‘We’ve a lot to say to each other, Tom, a lot to explain, but I’m weary to my very bones. What do you say we eat first and talk later?’ Judd suggested.

I nodded. I could hardly bear to look at him, and we ate in silence. Judd put three large spoonfuls of sugar into his tea. He sipped it slowly and smiled. ‘I’ve always had a sweet tooth, Tom, but I really need that now!’

I didn’t return his smile; I didn’t even like to hear him using my name. The sugar didn’t seem to help: soon he started nodding off at the table, so I tapped him on the shoulder and suggested that he went up to his room to sleep for a while.

While he did so, I put the time to good use. First I attempted to contact Alice using the small mirror in my room. After almost an hour I’d had no success. Deciding to try again later, I took my notebook out of my bag, crossed the bridge and walked back up onto the eastern moor.

I felt relatively safe with the sun shining, so once there I drew a rough map of Todmorden, concentrating on the positions of the big houses set back in the trees on this side of the river. I put crosses by the ones I thought the orbs had emerged from. I was pretty sure about four of them, but the remaining five were in doubt. I also tried to pinpoint the place where I’d seen that strange column of red light. It was difficult to locate exactly, but
I
marked the general area. Whatever it was, it had certainly been of interest to the disembodied witches.

Then I went back to my room and tried once more to contact Alice, again without success. What could be wrong? I wondered. She usually responded much more quickly than this. I dozed on my bed, thinking through all that had happened. It was noon before Judd knocked on my door. We left the inn and walked into the trees near the riverbank. What we had to say wasn’t for the ears of the innkeeper or anyone else.

We settled ourselves down, staring at the water, and I waited for him to speak.

‘I have to begin by thanking you for my life, Tom. I would have died last night. At first they used to take only a little of my blood every seventh night – my body could just about cope with that. But that was the third time they’d fed since I last saw you.’

‘You mean they’d kept you in the pit
before
they sent you to Chipenden?’

‘They let me out so I could bring you here,’ Judd explained.

‘How long were you in the pit?’ I asked him.

‘A couple of months, give or take a few days. Strange, isn’t it? We spooks put witches in pits. I never thought I’d end up in one myself!’

‘How did you survive? What did you eat?’

‘Luckily it wasn’t the dead of winter or I’d have frozen to death,’ Judd went on. ‘But they fed me all right. They had to keep me alive in order to get the blood they needed. Each pair – each strigoi and strigoica – keep one or more prisoners whom they feed on. They’d really prefer to hunt and kill their
prey
in the surrounding countryside, but that would draw attention, and the military might be called in. As for food, they drop it into the pit raw. I’ve been living off raw mutton – sometimes offal.’

I pulled a face at the thought of eating raw offal.

‘What would you do, Tom?’ he asked, seeing my expression of disgust. ‘I had little choice – eat that or die. Without food to replace what I lost when they bled me, I’d have been dead within a couple of weeks.’

I nodded. ‘It’s true,’ I agreed. ‘We do what’s necessary in order to survive. I’d have done exactly the same.’

I knew that I was certainly not guiltless myself. Over the course of my three years as a spook’s apprentice, the morals and standards taught me by my dad and mam had gradually been compromised. I’d been less than honest with my master, using dark magic to keep the Fiend at bay.

‘Aye, it’s a long twisting road that brings you to such a situation,’ Judd murmured bitterly. ‘As I said, my travels eventually took me to Romania, where I learned all about Transylvanian creatures of the dark and how best to combat them. Fat lot of good it did me in the end!

‘They work together in that country, you see – elementals, daemons and witches plot and actively set out to destroy spooks. It wasn’t long before I became their next target. They watch and wait, working out the best way to hurt or destroy you. I was easy meat. I was in love, you see. Spooks in the County don’t usually take a wife, but in Romania the custom is different. I’d asked for a young woman’s hand in marriage and
had
been accepted. We were in love and looking forward to the wedding. But it was not to be.

‘A strigoica claimed her – they prefer living to dead bodies. You’ve met the daemon – she possesses the body of Cosmina Fresque.’

‘Mistress Fresque is the woman you love? And she’s host to the daemon?’ I said, thinking how pretty Cosmina was and understanding why Judd had fallen in love with her. ‘Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t we drive the strigoica out of her body?’

‘I only wish that were so, but possession by a Romanian daemon doesn’t work like that – it’s not the same as in the County. It can’t be reversed. The soul is driven out and is unable to return.’ Judd shook his head sadly. ‘So consider her dead – I certainly do, and must learn to live with my grief. She’s gone off into Limbo. I just hope she can find her way to the light. I’ve lost her, and have had a long time to think of my folly and how I was so easily duped.’

‘So how did you end up here, back in the County?’ I asked him.

‘At first I was devastated by what had happened,’ he replied. ‘For almost a year I wandered like a man insane, unable to do my job. They could have killed me then – and would have, but for the Romanian spook who’d trained me. I didn’t even know he was there, but wherever I went, he followed close behind to defend me from the servants of the dark who wanted my life. Eventually I came to my senses, but then my mind was fixed only on vengeance. I wanted to kill that strigoica, or at least drive her
from
the body of my beloved Cosmina. I searched and searched but could find no trace of her – until at last I discovered that she had gone abroad with her strigoi partner. So I followed.

‘They had been warned by witches – I told you that they work together – and were ready for me. Like a fool, I walked straight into their trap and ended up in the pit – food for the strigoi. After a week or so they passed me on to their neighbours further up the valley. They swap victims in some sort of trade. I think the flavour of blood varies – they like a change every now and then.’

‘So did they promise you your freedom in exchange for luring me and the Spook here?’ I wondered.

‘That and something much more precious to me,’ Judd told me. ‘You see, I’m half Romanian and, as I told you, still have family back in that country – my mother and her kin. If I didn’t do as they said, they threatened to take their blood – to kill every last one of them. Of course they’d no intention of letting me go. After I left you I headed north, trying to put as much distance as possible between me and this cursed place. It hadn’t been dark for more than an hour when they caught me and dragged me back to that pit. I just hope my family are all right.’