I watched Deana Beck's face carefully to see what her reaction would be. Was she mixed up in this? Could we trust her?
'It's a hard life up here,' she said at last. 'And you have to do what you can to survive. Most just turn a blind eye but there are always some that have dealings with the dark forces that lurk in water. They do what has to be done in order to ensure their own safety and the needs of their families. When the breadwinner dies, his family have a hard time of it. They sometimes starve.'
'And what about you, Deana Beck?' demanded the Spook, staring at her hard. 'Have you dealt with the dark?'
Deana shook her head. 'No,' she said. 'I'll have no truck with witches. None at all. Never had a family of my own and I've led a long and lonely life. I don't regret it though, because now I've no kin to worry about. Just having to care for yourself makes you less afraid. It makes you stronger. The witches don't scare me. I do what I want.'
'So when can you row us out there?' asked the Spook.
'As soon as darkness falls. We wouldn't want to be going there in daylight. Anybody might be watching — maybe those who put your friend on the island in the first place, and we wouldn't want to meet them.'
'That we wouldn't,' said the Spook.
Deana offered to share her supper but the Spook declined for all of us. I was forced to watch her tuck into a piping hot rabbit stew while my mouth watered and my stomach rumbled. Soon it would be dark and we'd face whatever was out there on the island.
CHAPTER 24
The folly
Wearing long waders that reached up to her thighs, Deana Beck led us along the lake shore, a lantern in each hand. The moon wasn't yet up and there was scant light from the stars, but she didn't light them. The dark would help to shield us from anyone who might be lying in wait ahead or watching from the island. I walked beside the Spook, carrying my staff and his bag; Alice was a few paces behind. Claw continued to trot around us, her black coat now making her almost invisible. When she came close, only the light padding of her feet gave away her position.
After a few moments we reached Deana's boat; she waded out and pulled it back from the reeds towards the landing stage. Claw leaped in first, causing it to rock slightly, but then Deana gripped the edge of the jetty to steady it while we climbed aboard, the Spook first, Alice last. Ahead, our destination looked dark and threatening, its shroud of trees like the humped back of a huge crouching monster awaiting the arrival of its prey.
Deana rowed towards the island with big slow sweeps of the oars, which made hardly a sound as they entered the water. The air was still and soon the moon began to rise, illuminating the distant mountains and lighting the lake to silver. But still the trees looked dark and ominous. The sight of Belle Isle disturbed me, sending a chill down the back of my neck.
The crossing took just a few minutes and soon, after beaching the rowing boat on the shingle, we disembarked and stood on the water margin, where a number of twisted, ancient yews blocked out the moonlight.
'Thanks for your help, Deana,' the Spook told the old ferry woman, his voice hardly more than a whisper. If we're not back within the hour, you get yourself home and come back for us just before dawn.'
Deana nodded, picked up one of the lanterns and gave it to the Spook. As I was already burdened with my staff and the Spook's bag, she handed the other one to Alice. Claw immediately raced ahead and was quickly lost from sight in the darkness. Leaving Deana with her boat, we followed the dog into the gloomy trees. From shore to shore, the island was no more than three hundred yards across at its widest point and three quarters of a mile long: in daylight we could have searched it thoroughly from one end to the other, but in the dark this was impossible, so we made directly for the folly, where the hermit thought we might find Bill Arkwright.
The island was densely wooded; the majority of trees were conifers, but we soon reached a stand of deciduous trees, their branches stark and leafless, and there, in their midst, was the folly.
It wasn't at all what I'd been led to expect. In the moonlight I could see two separate buildings rather than one, perhaps no more than fifteen strides apart; twin ugly, squat, square towers constructed from grey stone encrusted with lichen, each no more than twenty feet high. They reminded me of sepulchres — mausoleums to house the bones of the dead. Each had a flat roof with no castellation at all, but there were some decorative features. Whereas the lower walls were plain blocks of stone, from about twelve feet above the ground to the roof of each tower I saw a multitude of gargoyles: skulls, bats, birds and all manner of creatures that might have been copied from the pages of some demonic bestiary.
The first building had no door and just one high narrow slit in each wall to serve as a window. So how could you get inside? And if you couldn't, what was the point of it? It wasn't even pleasing to look at. Arkwright couldn't be inside that sealed tower, yet Claw was already circling it, sniffing and whining, and when we moved on to the next, she remained behind.
I then realized that to call them 'twin' buildings wasn't strictly accurate. Although the second structure had identical slits for windows and its own selection of gargoyles, it also had a stout wooden door. This was padlocked, but Andrew, the Spook's locksmith brother, had provided us both with keys easily able to cope with such a barrier and the Spook had it open within seconds. We lit both lanterns before stepping cautiously inside, the blades on our staffs at the ready. Descending along three walls, thirty or so stone steps led us below ground towards a pool of water.
At the bottom, the Spook walked away from the water towards the far corner. I reached his side and stared down at what he'd found. It was a boot.
'Is it Bill's?' he asked.
'It's his,' I said with a nod.
'So where is he now?' asked the Spook, thinking aloud rather than asking me. He turned back towards the water, walked to its edge, held his lantern high and peered down.
I followed his gaze. The water was surprisingly clear but deep, and I could see two things: a further steep and narrow flight of underwater steps; and, at the foot of them, what looked like the mouth of a dark tunnel.
'What have we here?' muttered the Spook. 'Well, lad, look at the direction of that tunnel. Where do you think it goes?'
There wasn't much doubt about it. 'Towards the other building,' I answered.
'That it does. And I wonder what it contains? What better prison than a building without a door! Follow me, lad. '
I did as he said, with Alice close at my heels. Once outside, my master crossed to the other tower, halted below the nearest window and pointed up at it. 'Stand on my shoulders and see if you can climb up and see inside. Use the lantern but try and shield it with your body so we don't attract any unwelcome attention. We wouldn't want anyone to see it from the mainland.'
He crouched below the window and I stepped up onto his shoulders, holding the lantern between my body and the wall while resting my right hand against the stones to steady myself. As the Spook straightened his body, I struggled to keep my balance, but I was then able to climb up to the window using the gargoyles as hand- and foot-holds. Holding the lantern made it more difficult but at last I was in position, facing the window. I leaned forward against the wall and rested my chin on the lantern, peering through the slit. All I could see inside was a pool of water, seemingly identical to the one in the other tower; the far wall had a wide crack below ground level. The foundations were probably damp and had moved.
I clambered down and we moved to the next wall. 'Not sure my poor old back and knees can take much more of this,' grumbled the Spook. 'Make it quick, lad!'
I did as he commanded but it was not until I peered through the fourth window slit that I saw someone bound with rope, slumped against the far wall close to the pool. I couldn't see his face but it certainly looked like Arkwright.
'There's someone tied up,' I whispered excitedly. 'I'm sure it's him.'
'Right, lad,' said the Spook. 'Now check the roof. There could be a way in from the top. It's
worth a try. '
I climbed another few feet, then reached up, got a grip on the edge of the roof and pulled myself up. A thorough check revealed that it was solid stone. There was no way in. So after a quick glance through the trees towards the silver water of the lake, I lowered myself back down over the edge and, with the Spook's help, soon reached the ground.
We trudged back to the other building, descended the steps again and stared gloomily at the surface of the pool. There was only one way to get Arkwright out and that was through the water tunnel.
'Mr Arkwright taught me to swim,' I told my master, trying to fill my voice with more confidence than I felt. 'Now's the time to put it to good use. '
'Well, if you can swim, lad, that's more than I can do. But how well can you swim?'
'About five widths of the canal. '
The Spook shook his head doubtfully.
'Too dangerous, Tom,' Alice said. 'This is more than just swimming. It's diving down and going through that dark tunnel. Ain't able to swim or I'd come with you. Two of us would have a better chance.'
'The girl's right, lad. Maybe Deana could do it or knows someone who can swim well enough to get through there.'
'But would we be able to trust them?' I asked. 'No. I can do it. I've got to try at least.'
The Spook didn't try to stop me but looked on silently, shaking his head as I took off my boots and socks, followed by my cloak and shirt. Finally I tied my silver chain about my waist again and prepared to wade into the water.
'Here,' my master said, handing me a knife from his bag. 'Tuck this into your belt. You'll need it to free Bill. And take this for him as well,' he said, handing me a water bottle.
'Got something else that might help. ' Alice said.
With these words she pulled a leather pouch from the pocket of her skirt and undid the fine cord that bound it to reveal a collection of dried herbs within. She'd used herbs before to treat the sick successfully, once helping to heal my hand when it had been burned. But never had I seen such a multitude and diversity of herbs. It seemed that, unbeknown to me, Alice had been gathering materials and developing her healing skills.
She held a leaf out towards me. 'Put a bit of this under his tongue. Should revive him — that's if he ain't too far gone.'
The Spook stared at her hard for a moment, then nodded, so I tucked it into my breeches pocket and fastened the knife and the water bottle to my belt.
'And take care, lad,' my master warned. 'This is dangerous. Any doubts, don't go through with it. Nobody will think any less of you.'
I nodded my thanks and started to walk down the steps. The water was cold and took my breath away, but once it came up to my chest I felt better. With a faint smile back at Alice, I swam away from the steps, took a deep breath and attempted to dive down to the underwater tunnel.
I didn't get very far. The water resisted and forced me back up to the surface. Either I wasn't using the strokes I'd been taught properly or I simply wasn't strong enough. I sucked in another deep breath and tried again. Moments later I was sputtering on the surface, feeling a little foolish. I'd never be able to get Arkwright out. We'd have to ask Deana after all.
I swam back to the side until my feet were on the steps again. But suddenly I remembered something that Arkwright had said:
When a diver wants to go deep, the easiest way is for him to hold a big stone so the weight takes him down quickly.
'Alice, run back to the shore and bring me back two of the heaviest stones you can carry!' I told her.
She and the Spook looked at me with puzzled faces.
'A weight in each hand will take me straight to the bottom and I'll be able to pull myself into the tunnel.'
Alice returned in less than five minutes with two heavy stones. Holding them against my chest, I walked down the steps until the water was up to my waist then, after taking a deep breath, jumped forward.
The water closed over my head and I sank quickly into the gloom. The tunnel was directly ahead so I dropped the stones and frog-kicked into it, scraping my shoulder against the side. Two more kicks and it grew absolutely black. I began to panic. What if we were wrong and this passageway didn't lead into the next building after all?
I tried to use my arms as Arkwright had taught me but the tunnel was too narrow and I jarred my elbows badly. By now I was desperate to breathe and I kicked again and again, the urgency building in my chest. I tried to calm myself. On the surface I could hold my breath for much longer than this. So what was the difference? As long as I didn't panic I'd be all right.
Another two kicks and, to my relief, I was out of the tunnel and rising upwards, the water growing somewhat lighter. I had a sense of something big to my right, but the next second my head broke the surface and I released the breath I'd been holding, taking in two big welcome gulps of air. I used my arms and legs to paddle on the spot and keep afloat. It was dark in the tower, but looking upwards I could see the four narrow windows. Three were faint but the fourth was lit by the moon. Hopefully my eyes would soon adjust and there'd be enough light to see what I was doing.
I took a couple of strokes and then stubbed my toes against steps. Moments later I was out of the water, standing on flags, the water dripping from me, keeping perfectly still while I waited for my night vision to improve. Slowly the inside of the tower became clearer. I could see what appeared to be a shapeless bundle of rags against the wall. It had to be Arkwright. I took three cautious steps in that direction. Then I thought I heard a murmur of voices from somewhere above. Surprised, I looked up towards the window.
'Tom!' someone called.
It was Alice's voice. I knew she must have stood on the Spook's shoulders and climbed up the gargoyles to the window. 'You all right?' she asked.
'Fine, Alice. So far so good. I think I've found him.'
'Got something for you,' Alice called. 'A candle. Try to catch it. Ready?'
The next moment it was falling towards me. I took two quick steps, grabbed at it but missed. It hit the ground, but despite the gloom it didn't take me long to find it. I picked it up and looked up at the window again.
'Throwing down your tinderbox next,' she called. 'Don't drop this, Tom. Don't want it to break.'
I didn't want it to break either. It meant a lot to me because it was my goodbye present from my dad when I first left home to become the Spook's apprentice. It was a family heirloom.
I sensed rather than saw it falling towards me but somehow I caught it, and it was but the work of a minute to ignite the tinder and light the candle. I pushed the tinderbox safely into my pocket and approached Arkwright. I could see his face now, but was he all right? Was he breathing?
'It's him,' I called out to Alice and the Spook. 'He doesn't look too good but I'll try and get him through the tunnel.'
'Good,' shouted Alice. 'Well done. We'll see you in the other tower.'
I heard them walk away, but just then something made me glance down into the water. It was clear and I could see right to the bottom as before. Now I realized what I'd glimpsed as I emerged into the pool of water. It was a second tunnel. But where did it lead? To the lake? The thought was terrifying. It was another way into the tower. A water witch would be able to reach me without having to get past the Spook and Alice.
And there was something else. To my astonishment, the surface of the water suddenly brightened and a shape started to form. Someone was using a mirror to reach me. Could it be Alice? Had she given the Spook the slip for just such a purpose? Of course, it didn't have to be a mirror. The surface of a puddle, pond or lake could achieve the same end. But then I saw that it wasn't Alice after all and fear gripped my heart.
It was the witch assassin.
But for a scarf worn loosely about her neck, Grimalkin was dressed exactly as on our last encounter — the same short black smock tied at her waist, her skirt divided and tightly strapped to each thigh. Her lithe body was bound with leather straps carrying a multitude of sheaths, each containing a deadly weapon
.
My eyes fixed in terror upon one item in particular: the scissors that she used to torture her defeated enemies; sharp implements that could snip bone and flesh. Last time I'd tricked her, wounding her while I pretended to surrender. I'd flicked my staff from one hand to the other, just as the Spook had taught me. But next time we met, she wouldn't be deceived so easily. She knew what I was capable of.
I looked at the necklace of human bones around her neck — bones from those she'd hunted down, defeated and tortured. She lived for combat; thrived on bloodshed. It was said that she had a code of honour and liked the struggle to be difficult; that she never tried to win by guile. But I'd deceived her. In fear for my life, I'd behaved in a way she could only hold in contempt.
But to my utter astonishment she smiled at me and leaned forward. Her mouth opened and the surface of the water became cloudy. She was using a mirror and was about to write on it. What? A threat? A warning of what she intended to do to me next time we met?
I stared at the message in astonishment. Why would Grimalkin warn me? Wouldn't she be happy to see me captured and killed by witches? What did she mean by 'our enemies'? Water witches? Was it a trick? A repayment for my deceit?
The image faded and disappeared. I was puzzled, but whether she spoke the truth or not, I still had to rescue Arkwright.
I had no time to waste, and after positioning my candle on the flags nearby, I knelt beside the slumped figure. To his right was a jug half full of water. Bound as he was, someone must have been coming in to keep him alive for Morwena. I leaned closer and could hear fast, shallow breathing. I called his name. He groaned but didn't open his eyes. So, drawing the knife from my belt, I began to cut through his bonds: first the feet, then the hands.
That done, I tried rubbing his hands and face in an effort to revive him; but still his eyes remained shut. Next, I held my water bottle against his lips and poured some into his mouth. He choked a little but managed a couple of gulps. Then I broke off a piece of the leaf Alice had given me and pushed a small piece under his tongue. Finally I placed him flat on the ground on his side, in an effort to make him comfortable. It was only then that I noticed the marks on his neck. They were big yellow scabs, three of them, and one was still weeping matter. I'd never seen anything quite like it before. And then I remembered what Arkwright had told me about skelts. I wondered if one had been feeding from his neck. The witches could have been using a skelt in their rituals.
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