The Whitby Witches 3: The Whitby Child

by Robin Jarvis

  A faint drizzle had soused the early morning; in Church Street the cobbles glistened and awnings dripped on to the unsuspecting passers-by. Cautiously, Jennet headed for school, peering with suspicion into the lanes and doorways on either side, for the sisterhood of the coven could be lurking anywhere.

  When she reached Market Place, where she had first met Pear, Jennet's pace increased. She was still turning around to glare dubiously at the pillars of the old town hall, when in front of her a voice abruptly called out her name.

  Jennet spun around and there, standing by the entrance to the closed bookshop, was Pear.

  "Jennet!" she cried. "I've been worried sick—where have you been hiding? I thought you'd come and see me!"

  "You thought what?" Jennet spluttered incredulously. "After what you and your friends tried to do?"

  The witch-girl stepped into the drizzle and the anguish on her face was unmistakable. "I'm so sorry for what happened on Friday!" she swore. "It all went wrong, the others are sorry too—when the beast takes command there's nothing you can do!"

  "Is that why you killed those sheep?" Jennet snapped angrily. "If I hadn't escaped it would have been my body that was found all torn to bits."

  "Please!" Pear implored. "We should have explained properly—we thought you were ready. Let me talk to you..."

  "Get lost!" Jennet shrieked. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies. I can't believe how stupid I was. If you and your friends don't leave me alone I'll tell the police! I should have done that in the first place!"

  She stormed past the witch-girl but Pear ran after her. "There's no escape," she told her. "Jennet, none of us can be free of Nathaniel—he is part of our souls. Stop denying it to yourself."

  "Rubbish!"

  "Then why are you still wearing the necklace?"

  Jennet made no answer and, flustered, she hurried towards the school.

  "You must listen to me!" Pear shouted. "Your old life is over—you belong to him now. Why won't you let me explain? Wait, please!"

  Furious at both herself and her former friend, Jennet roughly pushed Pear away and screamed at her. "I'll never listen to you again!" she shrieked, and all the browsing tourists turned to stare at the two girls. "You're a liar and a coward! If you really wanted to get away from those filthy witches nothing could stop you! I saw your face as you dragged me round that bonfire—you were revelling in it. You disgust me—just stay away!"

  Pear clutched at the girl's coat but Jennet pulled it free and strode away.

  Standing alone in the middle of the road, Pear broke down and wept genuine tears. "Jennet!" she wailed. "Don't leave me! You don't understand! I can never be free of Nathaniel—or the others."

  "Course you can!" the other shouted, not bothering to look round.

  "No I can't!" Pear snivelled. 'You see... you see—Nathaniel Crozier was my father!"

  Jennet halted and turned slowly around. In spite of her anger she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the older girl, and without thinking, said, "Meet me after school."

  Pear nodded quickly and Jennet hastened away.

  ***

  In the Walrus and the Carpenter Café, later that afternoon, the two girls were sitting at a small table by the window, each with a cup of tea and a piece of cheesecake.

  An awkward and uncomfortable silence had prevented them saying much of anything and they half-heartedly picked at the dessert, both waiting for the other to speak first.

  Finally Jennet could stand it no more and came straight out with it. "Is it true then?"

  "What?" asked Pear.

  "About Nathaniel being your father, or was that another lie to get me to talk to you?"

  The older girl looked away and slowly moved the crumbs around the plate. "It's all true," she confessed. "I am his daughter."

  "I thought he was married to Rowena."

  "Don't be naïve; she was his legal bride but in a sense he was married to every member of the coven."

  Jennet eyed the other customers and lowered her voice so that they couldn't hear. "Why did they want me to join them?" she hissed. "What would be the point? Why are they still clinging to his memory? Why don't they go back to whatever lives they had before?"

  "If you'd let me explain," Pear told her, "then you'll understand why they—we—have done what we have."

  Jennet folded her arms. "Go on then," she said bluntly, "tell me."

  With her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, Pear began. "You have to realise", she said, "that to us Nathaniel meant everything—literally. He was our High Priest, the very reason for our existence—mine especially. He only had to make the vaguest hint and we would rush to do whatever it was. You must know what that feeling is like. You were under his influence—was there anything you would not have done for him?"

  Jennet bit her bottom lip and remembered how foolish she had been. "No," she admitted.

  "And you only knew him for a short time," the other continued. "Can you imagine how forceful that power would become over the years? Poor Liz got so dependent on him that she couldn't eat or drink without his permission; she was like a... like a..."

  "Pet dog?"

  "Worse than that," Pear answered, ignoring the sarcasm, "and then—then he died."

  She stared out of the window at the people passing by and her dark eyes glittered with tears. "No one can ever know how terrible that was for us," she said huskily. "The same instant Morgawrus killed him, each member of the coven felt a sudden... desolation as he was wrenched from us. We thought it was all over, there was nothing more to live for, no driving purpose in our lives—Liz almost took her own life. First Roselyn, the one you call Rowena, and then him, who we all worshipped."

  "What did you do?"

  Pear shuddered, recalling the insane and bloody actions of the coven in that ghastly time. "We were too distraught to care what we did," she murmured. "A madness was upon us. It wasn't just livestock that we butchered, no—far, far worse. There are voices that I can still hear—terrible screaming cries that will never be stilled and will hound me forever."

  She lowered her eyes and fidgeted with the napkin before continuing. "Then, when we were gorged on carnage and the raving hysteria left us, it was Hillian who decided we should attempt to contact my father on the other side. So, we performed certain... rites, yet the message we received exceeded anything we had anticipated.

  "Through that contact we learned much. Nathaniel had been the unwitting agent of a greater power. When he followed Rowena to Whitby he was merely pursuing the pattern set down for him. He was like a rat in a maze."

  Pausing, Pear absently stirred her tea and watched the waitress hovering near the other tables ready to take down their orders.

  "Do you mean that someone else wanted him to free the serpent?" Jennet asked. "But why? It would wreak havoc and destroy everything."

  Pear shook her head. "No, it wouldn't," she stated proudly. "You see, my father really was a master of domination. There has never been anyone like him in the whole history of the world—he was unique. The weary, sluggish mind of Morgawrus would've presented no difficulties for his arts. The monster would have been enslaved to his will as surely as you were.

  "What Nathaniel didn't realise was that he was only an instrument playing another's tune. All along a darker, ancient mind had been at work, bringing the strands together and weaving the web that we are now enmeshed in."

  "Are you trying to tell me", Jennet interrupted, "that Nathaniel was innocent, that I've misjudged him? You really don't give up, do—"

  "I'm not saying anything of the sort!" Pear denied. "My father was certainly never 'innocent'! Look, do you want to hear the rest or not?"

  "Go on. If waking Morgawrus was never Nathaniel's idea, then whose was it?"

  Pear looked around warily and gave the other customers doubtful glances. Then, in a hushed and fearful voice, she whispered, "Meta hasn't told me but I've heard her and Hillian talking. Have you ever heard of the three be
neath the waves—the Lords of the Deep and Dark?"

  "Yes," Jennet answered slowly. "What about them?"

  "That's who was behind it all! One of the great Triad!"

  Jennet stared at her, then snorted with derision. "That's nonsense!" she said. "Aren't they the ones who put the serpent under the cliffs in the first place? Why would they want to release him?"

  "I said only one of them," Pear insisted. "Think about it. Nothing comes close to rivalling the power of the Triad, nothing except Morgawrus."

  "So?"

  "Well, it stands to reason—one of them wants to get rid of the other two, he wants to rule alone."

  Bewildered, Jennet rubbed her forehead. "And you're saying he can't do that by himself, he needs the serpent to kill his brothers?"

  "Of course! And using my father he could have done it too, except—"

  "Except it didn't happen that way. Aunt Alice stopped him."

  "She interfered," Pear spat, "and my father's control was shattered."

  "Good!" Jennet said, finishing off her cheesecake.

  "But that isn't the end of it," Pear muttered. "Morgawrus was entombed again but then the evil member of the Triad became fearful that his brothers would discover his murderous intentions. Using the moonkelp he looked into the future and saw his own destiny."

  Leaning across the table, she whispered, "What the Lord of the Deep saw there chilled his black heart. For it was written that his own end was near. One of the three mightiest beings in the world felt threatened as never before—not since the serpent first rampaged over the land and sea. Now a new, more terrible danger was taking shape, something so deadly that his death is practically assured."

  Jennet felt the air in the café grow cold as she tried to imagine what could possibly be more horrific than the Lords of the Deep. "What sort of nightmare is this new threat?" she asked nervously. "It must be really horrendous to scare one of the Triad."

  Pear gave her a long and steady look before answering. "You really want to know?" she murmured.

  "Course I do!"

  "You won't like it."

  "Tell me!"

  Pear gently put her hand over Jennet's and in a level, sincere voice said simply, "It's Ben."

  The girl stared at her, then picked up her schoolbag ready to leave.

  "It's true!" Pear swore. "Don't go, sit down!"

  Jennet's eyes were filled with contempt. "I really am stupid!" she fumed. "I was actually starting to believe you. I don't know who's madder, you or me!"

  "Somehow," Pear told her, "one day, your brother will bring about the destruction of the Lord of the Frozen Wastes. That's why the coven is here, don't you see that?"

  "Come to watch then, have you?" bristled Jennet. "Come to see the mighty one who tricked your beloved father get his just rewards?"

  "No!" Pear cried indiscreetly. "We're here to kill Ben!"

  The rest of the customers in the café looked up from their tea and stared at the two girls in surprise. Pear cursed herself for shouting so loudly then made a rude gesture to each of them in turn. On the seat opposite, Jennet had sat down again.

  "If you or that dirty coven so much as go near my brother..." she began, "no, even better, I'll go to the police right now."

  "Don't do that!" Pear said quickly. "Even if they believed you they couldn't do anything. Jennet, you don't know the others; they don't care how many they kill to get what they want. If you mention this to anyone you will only be responsible for many more deaths. What the coven has been promised in return for the boy's life outweighs any risk. It's all they are concerned about."

  Angrily, Jennet asked, "So what is the price of my brother's life? What are you going to get out of it?"

  "As soon as Ben is dead," Pear shamefully replied, "the Lord of the Frozen Wastes will give Nathaniel back to us. He will live again—that is the bargain Hillian has made."

  Appalled and speechless, Jennet felt sick.

  "Oh, the Deep One can do it," Pear said. "Nothing is beyond them."

  Jennet had had enough. She wanted to go home at once and tell Aunt Alice everything, but one question still remained unanswered. "Why are you telling me all this now?" she asked bitterly. "Wouldn't your mother and the others be furious if they knew?"

  Pear looked straight into her eyes and shrugged. "I wanted you to know that I am your friend," she breathed. "I've never had one before. I was raised in the coven and brought up in their society alone. Things that you would consider good and beautiful were denounced as ugly and wrong. The only love I knew was the devotion the others felt for my father, and Meta was too busy trying to keep his attention to be bothered with me. I was never allowed to mix with other children and if I tried to wander off on my own, well—the coven was very skilled at thinking up new punishments. Sometimes, when Nathaniel was away from us, the others would encourage me to annoy Meta or blame me for something they had done. It was a favourite game of theirs to see who could come up with the most original and humiliating chastisement—Rowena was always good at that, and Miriam.

  "I've always had to do exactly what they tell me. You think it'd be easy for me to escape from them but it isn't. It might be a cruel and hard life but it's the only one I know—I really don't think I could survive outside the coven. Oh Jennet, I loathe what they make me do, yet I have no choice. When we first came here to... to do what we must, they told me to get you on our side, but it wasn't like that—not for me.

  "I really did like you, Jennet, that first day when we talked—I realised we had so much in common. I know what it's like to be lonely amongst a crowd of others. Please believe me when I say how sorry I am for all that's happened and what will happen. It'll be difficult for you to accept it at first, but you'll grow to understand, and remember that when your brother is dead you'll still have me to talk to."

  She reached out to touch the other girl's hand but Jennet shuddered in revulsion and pulled herself away sharply.

  "I'm not like you!" she cried. "You're as bad as all the rest—worse because you pretend to be something kind and... oh, I despise you!"

  Quickly, Jennet fled from the café, slamming the door behind her.

  Alone at the table, Pear's raven hair cascaded over the cloth as she bent her head and great desolate tears splashed into the dregs within her teacup.

  The door of the café opened again and the girl hastily wiped her eyes as her mother sat down to join her.

  "Well?" Meta demanded. "Did you do it?"

  Pear nodded.

  "How?"

  "In her tea when she wasn't looking."

  A wintry smile crept over the perfect symmetry of the beautiful woman's face. "Thank you my pet," she drawled. "I'll go and tell the sisters."

  12 - A Bargain Sealed With Blood

  Through the narrow street Jennet pushed, but by the time she reached the cottage her temper had been replaced by a chill dread. What if Pear had purposely drawn her away from the place, whilst the rest of the coven...

  Jennet fumbled with the key, threw open the front door and at the top of her voice shouted "Ben! Ben!"

  A muffled thud sounded in the front room and the girl barged inside with her fists clenched.

  "Why, Jennet dear! What on earth is the matter? I nearly jumped out of my skin when you bellowed like that and look—you made me drop Prudence's shield."

  Standing before the mantelpiece, with one hand clutching at the empty air, the other holding a rusting spear and her face a picture of astonishment, was Miss Boston. At the old lady's feet and looking totally incongruous, the elliptical shield was still rocking on the carpet, and draped over the armchair was a moth-eaten zebra skin. The scene was almost comical but Jennet's anguish forbade any frivolity and she stared about the room before leaping away to look in the kitchen.

  "Where's Ben?" she cried. "Where is he?"

  Throwing down the spear and taking up her walking stick, the old lady hurried after her. "What's happened?" she called. "Jennet?"

  The girl dived into
the parlour and was about to race upstairs when Miss Boston caught her arm.

  "Benjamin", she declared, "is in his room."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I am! He's been with Nelda all day, but Mr Shrimp sent him home to get something to eat. The poor boy is worried sick. We'll both be going out again later so I suggested he had a lie-down first. Now, tell me what has occurred to make you go charging around like an outraged Amazon."

  Drawing the girl into the front room, Aunt Alice removed the remains of the zebra and bade her sit down on the armchair. Then, with her hands clasped behind her back, she assumed the posture of an old-fashioned and overbearing school mistress as she waited for the explanation.

  Jennet didn't know where to begin, but slowly she related the whole dreadful story of how she had been ensnared—guiltily averting her eyes when speaking of the wedding day and how she had lied to slip away. But Miss Boston did not scold her and when she looked up she saw that the old lady's face was pale and strained.

  Jennet paused, uncertain whether to continue. Then letting out a heavy sigh of pain, Aunt Alice sank into a chair as the full horrible knowledge dawned on her. That one of the children in her care could have been so unhappy as to even contemplate joining the coven was an awful realisation and she shivered hopelessly.

  "How could I have been so blind?" her cracked, aghast voice whined. "God's grace, I might have lost you to those evil creatures! Oh Jennet, I've failed you. I was so full of myself and too pleased with my own victories that I completely trampled over your needs and drove you away. The danger that Prudence warned me of has already come and I was found wanting. You might have been killed that night on the moors—I didn't even check that you were here. Oh, forgive me."

  The extent of Miss Boston's self-condemnation startled the girl and she struggled to calm her.

  "Don't blame yourself," Jennet begged. "It was my fault. You didn't drive me anywhere, I ran there all on my own. I've been spoilt and selfish and couldn't see who my real friends were."