‘I don’t know if I’m capable of it,’ I answered truthfully. ‘I care about Alice too much. How could I sacrifice her?’
‘I have talked it over with Alice. If we can find no other way, she will willingly die at your hands.’
‘We must find another way!’
‘We will certainly try, but time grows short. It is already June.’
We arrived at Chipenden to find the Spook little better. He was walking more easily, but he still looked frail, a shadow of the man who had taken me on as his apprentice.
Later that afternoon we talked, sitting at the kitchen table, watching the fire flickering in the grate. I found it too warm, but my master clutched his cloak about him tightly, as if to fend off the cold.
First we talked of the Doomdryte. ‘Who knows where it is now,’ he said gloomily. ‘In the hands of the Fiend’s servants, no doubt. The danger is that someone will attempt the incantation.’
‘They are unlikely to be successful though,’ I told him in an attempt to raise his spirits – although in truth I felt very low myself: my brother was surely dead, and there was no certainty that I would ever see Alice again. Even if she did return, further horror and heartache lay ahead.
‘That’s true, lad. Do you remember what I wrote in my Bestiary about it?’
I frowned. ‘Some of it,’ I said uncertainly. ‘I know the incantation is hard to complete.’
‘Some of it! That’s not good enough, lad! You need to be up to the mark. It’s vital that you start to think and act like a spook. Come with me!’ he said, rising from his chair immediately.
My master led the way to his new library. He climbed the stairs slowly but was out of breath by the time we reached the door.
‘There!’ he said, pushing it open to reveal what lay within. ‘What do you think?’
There was a smell of new wood, and I saw row upon row of empty shelves. ‘It’s great,’ I said. ‘Full of promise. All it needs now is books, and lots of them, and then we can call it a library!’
I smiled as I spoke, and the Spook smiled back; he had not lost his sense of humour. He led me to a row of shelves opposite the window. On the middle one, leaning against each other for support, were the first three books in the new library. I read the titles: The Spook’s Bestiary; A History of the Dark; The Pendle Witches.
My master had begun the second two while we were refugees on the Isle of Mona. He had completed both before we left Ireland to return to the County.
He lifted the Bestiary and placed it in my hands. ‘Read what it says about the Doomdryte!’
I flicked through until I reached the right place. ‘There’s not much here,’ I said.
‘There’s enough, lad. Read the whole section on grimoires aloud.’
‘These are ancient books, full of spells and rituals, used to invoke the dark,’ I began. ‘Sometimes they are employed by witches, but they are mainly used by mages, and their spells have to be followed to the letter, or death can result.
‘Many of these famous texts have been lost (the Patrixa and the Key of Solomon). The most dangerous and powerful grimoires, however, were written in the Old Tongue by the first men of the County. Primarily used to summon daemons, these books contain terrible dark magic. Most have been deliberately destroyed or hidden far from human sight.
‘The most mysterious and reputedly most deadly of these is the Doomdryte. Some believe that this book was dictated word for word by the Fiend to a mage called Lukrasta. That grimoire contains just one long dark magic incantation. If successfully completed (in conjunction with certain rituals), it would allow a mage to achieve immortality, invulnerability and god-like powers.
‘Fortunately no one has ever succeeded as it requires intense concentration and great endurance: the book takes thirteen hours to read aloud, and you cannot pause for rest.
‘One word mispronounced brings about the immediate death of the mage. Lukrasta was the first to attempt the ritual and the first to die. Others followed in his foolish footsteps.
‘We must hope that the Doomdryte remains lost for ever—’
‘That’s enough, lad,’ the Spook interrupted. ‘So you see the danger? The Romanian entities used only the power emanating from the book to feed their illusions. What if the book was used in the way it was intended?’
I shrugged. ‘It seems unlikely to me that anyone could successfully complete that ritual.’
‘How unlikely? The Fiend and his servants grow ever more desperate, and that means desperate measures will be employed. I’m worried about that book, and you should be too, lad! It might be somewhere in the County. The threat is very close.’
‘Well, talking of books, I’ve got something to add to your collection!’ I said. I opened my bag and handed him three books. They were the notebooks I’d kept during the first three years of my apprenticeship.
‘Thanks, lad,’ he said. ‘This is the right place for them. And you’ll be able to come in here and consult them whenever you feel the need.’
‘Here’s another book,’ said, reaching into my bag again, feeling a little nervous. I wasn’t sure how the Spook would react. ‘Alice was going to write an account of the two years she spent being trained by Bony Lizzie; instead she wrote this, thinking it might be more useful.’
The Spook accepted it and read the title from the spine: ‘The Secrets of the Pendle Covens.’ Then he opened it at the first page and began to read Alice’s neat writing.
My master closed the book very suddenly and looked at me hard. ‘Do you think this book belongs on the shelves of this library?’ he demanded.
‘It’s about the magic used by the witches, and about their strengths and weaknesses. It should help us a lot!’ I insisted.
‘Well, lad, it’s your decision,’ said the Spook, ‘because the truth is, this is your library. It’ll be yours until you hand it on to the next spook. In the meantime, you’ll decide what goes on these shelves. My knees have gone and I’ve lost my wind,’ he continued, shaking his head sadly. ‘Although you’ve still a way to go before you complete your time, but to all intents and purposes, from this moment on you are the Chipenden Spook. Start to think like one! I’ll still be around to offer advice, but from now the burden of the job must rest on your shoulders. What do you say?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said.
‘Aye, lad, you’ll do your best. That’s all any of us can do.’
Once again, I’ve written most of this from memory, just using my notebook when necessary.
A letter arrived from my eldest brother, Jack, yesterday. He said that James was missing but that they hadn’t given up hope. Jack was confident that he would return any day. I don’t know what to write back. Is it better to allow him to live in hope for a while? If I tell him what I know, Jack will somehow blame me anyway. He thinks that my job as an apprentice spook has brought nothing but trouble to my family. He is right. I believe James is dead, slain by the Fiend’s servants; but for the fact that he is my brother, he would still be alive.
The routine of spook’s business goes on, but when the bell rings at the withy trees, I am now the one who deals with any problem. Ghosts, boggarts and the occasional witch I deal with alone. My master spends a lot of time sitting in the garden. He looks older and the whole of his beard is now white. He reminds me of the old men I saw as a boy – the ones who used to sit around the market square in Topley village. They seemed to have withdrawn from life and were waiting for death, just content to observe and remember. I think John Gregory is also waiting to die, and that saddens me. It is one more burden I have to carry.
Judd Brinscall has taken the three dogs with him and gone north of Caster to set himself up in the watermill. He has taken on the territory that Bill Arkwright once covered and is now busy ridding the area of an infestation of water witches. I’ve done my best to forgive him for his betrayal of the Spook, but I still can’t quite get it out of my head. It will take time.
As for Grimalkin, she is on the run again
with the Fiend’s head, still pursued by his servants. I offered to lend her the dagger: she had once refused the Destiny Blade, but now she accepted Bone Cutter. She will give it back when Alice returns from the dark with the third weapon so that all three sacred objects are finally in my possession.
Our fight against the dark continues – but I miss Alice. And time is running out. It is now early August, and I’ve just turned sixteen. I am in the fourth year of my apprenticeship to the Spook. It is less than three months till Halloween, when we have one chance to complete the ritual and destroy the Fiend for ever. Each morning I awake full of hope, thinking that this will be the day when Alice returns from her quest in the dark. As the hours pass, my mood slowly changes. Hope gradually gives way to despair. By dusk I am choked with grief, convinced that I will never see her again.
Even if she succeeds, it is only then that the horror truly begins. Mam’s letter not only explained how I must sacrifice Alice; it revealed other aspects of the ritual. One requires the use of a living skelt. I have a strong sense of foreboding about the creature – images and references to it keep cropping up. And it bothers me that its head decorates the hilts of the sword and dagger.
I think about the task that faces us. If we fail, the Fiend will eventually win and a new age of darkness will begin.
Knowing nothing of the ritual and what it involves, my master is chiefly concerned with the whereabouts of the Doomdryte, the evil grimoire that we saw in Mistress Fresque’s library. He is right to be worried. In the hands of our enemies, that book could be very dangerous indeed.
Despite all that’s happened, I’m still a spook’s apprentice – though I must start to think and behave like the Chipenden Spook. I must anticipate the time when John Gregory will no longer be here – even to offer me advice.
Thomas J. Ward
About the Author
Joseph Delaney is a retired English teacher living in Lancashire. He has three children and eight grandchildren, and often speaks at conference, library and bookshop events. 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.
Most of the places in the Spook’s books are based on real places in Lancashire, and the inspiration behind the stories often comes from local ghost stories and legends.
You can visit the Wardstone Chronicles website at www.spooksbooks.com where you can find Joseph’s blog and more information on the books.
Also by Joseph Delaney
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
BOOK NINE:
SPOOK’S: I AM GRIMALKIN
BOOK TEN:
THE SPOOK’S BLOOD
ALSO AVAILABLE
THE SPOOK’S STORIES:
WITCHES
THE SPOOK’S BESTIARY
COMING SOON
BOOK ELEVEN:
SPOOK’S: SLITHER’S TALE
THE SPOOK’S BLOOD
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 409 02690 7
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2012
Copyright © Joseph Delaney, 2012
Cover illustration © Talexi Taini, 2012
Interior illustrations copyright © David Wyatt, 2012
First Published in Great Britain
Red Fox 9781849411073 2012
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.
RANDOM HOUSE CHILDREN’S PUBLISHERS UK
61–63 Uxbridge Road, London W5 5SA
www.randomhousechildrens.co.uk
www.totallyrandombooks.co.uk
www.randomhouse.co.uk
Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm
THE RANDOM HOUSE GROUP Limited Reg. No. 954009
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
The Spook's Blood Page 20
