The Power of Dark

by Robin Jarvis

  ‘So what happened to the aufwaders?’

  Cherry had reached the cave and she helped pull Lil up the final rungs.

  ‘Their numbers dwindled,’ she told her, ‘and the last tribe was removed from the land of humankind by the Lords of the Deep and Dark, and these doors were sealed forever. Don’t ask me who the Lords of the Deep and Dark are; you don’t wanna know.’

  But Lil was too busy staring at the cave they were now standing in to ask anything. It was festooned with fishing nets. Small boats that might have been built for children were ranged about the walls, and crab pots and baskets decorated with shells were stacked beside them. Overhead were two beautifully wrought silver lamps shaped like fish and high above their white flames were the immense iron cogs and chains of the mechanism that operated the doors. Then Lil noticed a seated figure in a shadowy corner.

  An aufwader.

  He was no taller than an eight-year-old human, but his hands were wrinkled and browned by many years of salty gales and baking summers. He was wearing a dark blue gansey knitted with the pattern unique to his family. Lil assumed the creature was male because she could see white side whiskers sticking out from under the broad brim of a sealskin hat that had slipped over his face.

  ‘Will he be able to see us?’ she asked Cherry, and was taken aback when she saw that the woman was dabbing her eyes and sniffling.

  ‘Never thought I’d ever get to see one,’ Cherry said huskily. ‘But no, this is still Annie’s memory. We’re just nosy visitors, remember? He doesn’t know we’re here.’

  ‘He’s spark out anyway.’

  Entranced, and fizzing with curiosity, Cherry crept closer, crouching to get a better view. The aufwader’s aged face was scored by deep lines. She saw a long, bulbous nose and two fleshy ears, which were tufted with bristles at the tips. His large eyes were closed and his mouth was hanging open. Cherry frowned.

  ‘That don’t look like a natural sleep to me.’

  Then she saw a wooden tankard lying on its side behind the stool. The dregs of a black, oily liquid had pooled inside.

  ‘I got me a real bad feeling,’ she said. ‘Stick close, Lil.’

  Rising, she took the girl’s hand and they moved deeper into the cave, through an arch leading to the tunnels beyond. It was eerily silent. There was no one in any of the cosy dwellings they came across and Cherry’s unease mounted. Lil didn’t like it either. Then, passing through a sacking curtain, they found them – the aufwaders of Whitby.

  Lil gasped and murmured. ‘Now this is mirificus.’

  It was the largest chamber they had seen so far. It was evidently where the separate tribes assembled for important meetings or to celebrate sacred festivals. Entering the cavern, Cherry and Lil saw that this had been one of those nights. A bonfire was still burning in the centre, a feast was spread on low stone tables and there were more aufwaders than Cherry could ever have dreamed of. But each and every one of them was lying on the floor.

  ‘They can’t all be asleep,’ Lil said in a trembling voice. ‘Are they dead?’ Casting her gaze around, she looked on those remarkable faces. Their weather-beaten features possessed an unearthly beauty, filled with dignity and wisdom. The sea wives were dressed in their best. Shell combs tamed their sandy hair and their finest, shore-found treasures adorned them as necklaces or were fastened about their brows and wrists. The menfolk had brushed their wiry sideburns and brought out their fanciest pipes, not the everyday clay variety, but heirlooms of burnished wood, with large bowls, expertly carved, depicting family histories and ancestral heroes. Many had spiralling stems, or a secondary bowl, so that a delicious blend of different dried seaweeds could be enjoyed. Some of those precious pipes lay splintered beneath their owners.

  ‘Do you think it was a celebration for the full moon?’ Lil asked. ‘There’s all sorts of folk traditions in my mum’s books about that. I guess fisherfolk would be extra keen on tides and stuff.’

  As she stepped between the sprawled bodies, Lil thought it was the saddest sight she had ever seen. Beside each aufwader was a spilled drinking vessel.

  ‘Same as the one at the entrance,’ she said.

  Cherry nodded. She knew what had happened.

  ‘Annie drugged – or poisoned them. Oh dear Lords, did she kill them? Us witches were supposed to mediate and be a bridge between humans and the fisherfolk – protectin’ everyone. Hell, Annie! You degraded the legacy of those brave women who went before you. Shame on you, girl, and all for what? So you could impress your doily-wearin’ bozo boyfriend by stealin’ some serpent’s tears? That wasn’t love; it was somethin’ dark and obsessive and scary.’

  ‘This one’s breathing!’ Lil exclaimed. ‘So they’re not dead, or at least not all of them. Oh, it’s awful. Can’t we do something to help?’

  ‘We can’t affect anything in a memory that ain’t even ours, kid. Come on, I seen enough. Let’s go find Annie, see what else happened that night.’

  With a last lingering look at the fisherfolk, Lil followed Cherry from the cavern.

  In the year 1618, the Norman-built stones of St Mary’s looked pretty much the same as they did in Lil’s own time. But the cemetery was different; the tall memorial cross to Caedmon was absent and there were far fewer graves. The headstones stood vertical and true and the inscriptions were crisply carved and legible.

  After the climb up the steps, Lil was out of breath. This was a warm summer night, but she was feeling cold and a strange tiredness was creeping through her.

  ‘How can I be so whacked when I’m not really here?’ she asked. ‘That doesn’t make sense. My legs are aching and I’m shattered.’

  ‘Mental strain,’ Cherry told her. ‘You’re only here because your will is so strong. You’re a stubborn gal, but the effort is takin’ its toll and . . .’

  ‘And Annie is getting more of a hold on the real me?’

  Cherry nodded.

  ‘How long have I got?’

  ‘I don’t know, honey. Just stay with me as long as you can.’

  ‘What happens when I can’t? Will I disappear forever?’

  ‘Not if I can help it. Now let’s go find that treacherous witch. There’s gotta be something we can use to fight her. Don’t give up hope.’

  ‘There!’ Lil said, pointing.

  In the distance, the figure of Scaur Annie was striding purposefully along the headland, towards the cliff edge.

  ‘She is going to jump!’ Lil cried. ‘The story was wrong!’

  ‘No,’ Cherry insisted. ‘There’s still too many pieces of the puzzle missin’. This doesn’t end yet.’

  Then they heard a strange, mewling cry. Glancing upwards, they saw a winged shape launch itself from the crenellated tower of the church. Against the starry heavens it was only a black silhouette and for a fleeting moment Cherry thought it was a squalbiter, but it was the wrong sort of weather for those creatures to be abroad.

  ‘Looks like a cat, with bat wings,’ she said. ‘Even sounds like one. But that’s not possible.’

  ‘That thing was in my dream,’ Lil said. ‘It’s horrific.’

  The strange beast swooped over the graveyard and flew into Annie’s path, beating its wings and hissing. The young witch yelled, fending it off with her hands.

  Just then a shrill, whistled command issued from the deep shadows that spilled down over the church walls, making Lil and Cherry both start. The creature ceased its attack at once and flew up to perch on a tombstone.

  Now a tall, alarming figure came swaggering out.

  ‘Oh my gods!’ Cherry breathed. ‘Who the hell is that?’

  ‘That’s Mister Dark!’ Lil gasped fearfully. ‘Annie’s scared of him.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ Cherry said. ‘No wonder he became the local boogeyman. He looks like a walkin’ corpse.’

  The moonlight made Mister Dark’s pale face more deathly than ever. With the unsteady lurch of a drunken man, and a half-empty bottle of brandy, he passed through the graveyard, towards Ann
ie.

  Cherry shivered. She could see shadows of death around him. Taking hold of Lil’s hand again, they followed reluctantly.

  ‘Keep your devil cat away from me!’ Annie bawled.

  Mister Dark gave a slurring laugh and rubbed his fingers together. Blue sparks crackled round them.

  ‘Catesby!’ he called. ‘Here!’

  There was a rush of leathery wings and a moment later the creature was sitting on his shoulder, nuzzling the silver staples in its skull against the arcs of energy that snapped between his fingers. Mister Dark put the bottle between his teeth and glugged down several mouthfuls.

  ‘Catesby remembers you,’ he told Annie with a filthy wink.

  ‘Your pet demon is a grey-fleshed evil that should have stayed dead,’ she answered. ‘Same as you!’

  Mister Dark staggered closer.

  ‘That’s not courteous,’ he said. ‘You’re polite enough and more to my lord. Me and Catesby are only out rat catching. Catesby likes hunting, loves to pounce and hear them squeak when he bites he does – and so do I.’

  Smirking, he held out the bottle to her.

  ‘Drink,’ he said.

  ‘Let me by! Or I’ll report you to your master.’

  The man guffawed and would have toppled backwards if he hadn’t crashed against a headstone. Annie pulled a disgusted face and walked off.

  ‘You think you’re so important to him?’ he called after her. ‘Not no more you’re not. Given him what he wanted, have you? That’s you ended. He’s sly as Old Nick. A better play actor I never did see.’

  Annie turned.

  ‘What’s that you say?’ she asked.

  ‘I seen him get what he desired a score of times and more from folks who should know better. They always believe his honey promises. But you, you was the easiest of the lot. We both laughed about it. You was starving for fair and flowery words he said, and he fed you right well.’

  Annie glared at him.

  ‘That’s all you know!’ she said angrily. ‘There’s love between us. He’s going to take me with him. We’ll live in his big house, down London way. In the summer, I’ll eat frozen snow that tastes of roses.’

  Mister Dark sneered at her. ‘There is no big house,’ he said. ‘His lordship’s got no fortune. He spent his estates journeying the world and buying rare books and gold and gems for his great work.’

  ‘Jealousy and spite!’ she snapped back. ‘That’s what this is. I won’t listen.’

  ‘You don’t even know what his great work is,’ Mister Dark scoffed. ‘So much for love and trust. You mean no more to him than any mercer he owes a sovereign to, and there’s many of them.’

  ‘That’s bile and bottle talk!’

  ‘’Tis the Bible truth and if you weren’t so clod simple you’d know it. My master doesn’t have enough jingle in his purse to pay his lodging this week and he still owes for his last. But now you’ve given him what he needed he’ll be wealthier than all the kings and emperors put together. No more flea-ridden cots in outbuildings for Mister Dark. Goose-feather mattresses from now on and fat pigeons for Catesby whenever he wants, if he don’t have a taste for juicier meat. Aye, merry times for us.’

  The anger had drained from Scaur Annie’s face as confusion and doubt took its place.

  ‘How will the serpent’s tears do so much?’ she asked.

  ‘Because that’s the last element he needed for his grand masterpiece.’

  ‘His great work? Tell me, what is it?’

  Mister Dark gave a repulsive laugh.

  ‘’Twill be the marvel of the age!’ he announced in a coarse imitation of Melchior Pyke’s voice. ‘My clever lord has poured all his cunning into its creation. Its power is beyond measure and will make him greater than any man in the known world. There was but one thing it lacked: the perfect fluid to drive its tiny engine. And so his book learning brought him hither, to this dirty town.’

  ‘How can that be? He knew nothing of Morgawrus till I told him! He didn’t even believe me. I had to furnish proof.’

  ‘Wake up! He knew everything! About that – and about them little leathery-faced skulkers who guard it. But Pykey don’t have the sight, see, so it was Mister Dark’s job to seek them out and get the tears from them. Alas, those crab lovers didn’t fancy the looks of me, so another way had to be found, and that were you. It didn’t take his lordship long to charm Whitby’s wild witch.’

  ‘A tower of lies! He saved me from the mob’s flames.’

  Mister Dark guffawed unpleasantly. ‘And why was they at your door that night?’ he asked. ‘Cos a few sheep had been killed where you’d been seen. Who do you think had your journeys watched and ordered them sheep dead? What do you think killed them fat bleaters? Catesby liked his bit of mutton, didn’t you? Not so partial to rats as he once was. Spoiled him it did. Got a real taste for their red juices; made him feel young and strong. Should’ve seen the lustre of his coat after.’

  Annie stepped away from him, her face almost as pale as his own.

  ‘My fine gentleman used me,’ she said in stunned realisation. ‘I been played from start to finish. I betrayed my lovely fisherfolk for a basketful of falsehoods.’

  Mister Dark wiped his mouth on his hand. ‘You might profit by it yet,’ he told her. ‘From now on, gold will stick to him like pig muck to a boot. He might fling some coins your way if you carry on being so polite.’

  Annie wasn’t listening. Her face had set grim and hard and she strode through the graveyard back towards the steps. Grasses and plants that brushed her skirt as she stormed by blackened and died and thunder rolled overhead though the sky was clear.

  Cherry and Lil had watched the whole exchange in silence.

  ‘So that’s what did it,’ said Lil at last. ‘That’s what turned Annie’s love to hate.’

  ‘When a passion so all-consumin’ goes bad,’ Cherry said, ‘the hatred is overwhelmin’, unhinged – frightenin’.’

  ‘She’s going to see Pyke now, isn’t she?’

  ‘Yeah, and it won’t be pretty. You sure you want to witness it?’

  ‘Nothing could stop me. We’ve come this far.’

  ‘Yes, go watch,’ came a sneering voice. ‘Go see the final confrontation between the broken-hearted witch and her false gentleman.’

  Cherry and Lil stared at each other, then looked at the speaker. To their bewilderment and horror they saw that Mister Dark was looking straight at them.

  ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Catesby and me can see and hear you both. Thought you could slink about unnoticed, did you? Prying into dusty corners, like invisible little mice, looking for a way to avert the oncoming doom?’

  ‘That’s impossible!’ Cherry spluttered. ‘This is just a memory! These events happened centuries ago. You’re long dead. There’s no way you can be aware of us.’

  ‘And yet I am,’ the man said with a filthy leer. Straightening, he threw the bottle away and he no longer appeared drunk. On his shoulder, Catesby hissed at Cherry and the girl.

  ‘You think Annie and Pyke are the only ones with a footing in your time?’ he asked. ‘The Lords of the Deep and Dark can do anything. Them under the sea have many schemes and many agents. Some are more trusted than others; some have special commissions. They’re not going to allow the likes of you to foul their plans. This squalid little town is about to feel the full force of their fury and there’s nothing a paltry colour witch can do to stop it. Nothing.’

  He raised his hand and rubbed his fingers together. Catesby bathed its grotesque head in the resulting sparks.

  ‘Run,’ he told them. ‘Go observe the final act. Your own deaths are snapping at your heels. The girl is fading fast. She has but moments left before her mind, her life, all that she was, is snuffed out like a candle.’

  Lil backed away and Cherry gripped her hand. It was deathly cold.

  ‘Don’t listen to him!’ Cherry cried fiercely. ‘Don’t believe him. I’ve got tight hold and I won’t let go. You stay with me, Lil Wilso
n. We’re gonna follow Annie. There might still be a chance, something I can do.’

  With Mister Dark’s mocking laughter ringing in their ears they ran for the steps. Cherry tried not to let her fear show, but she was mortally afraid. The malevolence within that sinister man was greater than anything she had ever encountered.

  ‘Your pitiable colour magic is no match for the power of dark,’ he called after them. ‘All shall die!’

  Lil was gasping when they reached the steps. ‘I . . . I have to stop and rest.’

  ‘No time for that!’ Cherry told her. ‘Come on, one last dash to the inn.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Lil sobbed, sinking to her knees. ‘I’m too weak.’

  ‘Don’t give up!’ Cherry pleaded, rubbing her icy hand. ‘Just hang in there a little longer. You can do it!’

  Lil stared up at her, her eyes dim and dying. ‘Tell Verne I’m sorry,’ she said.

  Shadows gathered round her. Then, to Cherry’s horror, Lil crackled and vanished.

  ‘No!’ Cherry cried. ‘No!’

  Above her, the night was filled with the mewling of Mister Dark’s repugnant pet as Catesby flew high over the clifftop.

  Trembling with shock and grief, Cherry stared back at the graveyard. Mister Dark was approaching, a cruel smile on his scarred face.

  ‘In your world,’ he said, ‘Annie’s vengeful spirit now has complete control of that girl’s mindless body. At this very moment she is leaving your cottage to bring about Whitby’s ultimate ruin. Why do you tarry here in this sordid memory? If you hurry you might just escape the violence she is about to unleash. But you’d better be quick – there’s so little time before the drowning darkness comes.’

  Cherry turned away and began running down the wooden steps.

  ‘Not yet, buster!’ she shouted. ‘I’m seeing this tragedy through to its bitter end. If I’m the last witch of Whitby, then that’s my job. Besides, I owe it to Lil.’

  Reaching the top of the steps, Mister Dark observed her descent. A scowl gouged deep grooves into his pallid forehead. Putting his tongue against the back of his teeth, he whistled a command to Catesby and the creature flew after her.