'The Pendle witches aren't the allies I'd wish for, but at least we've nothing to fear now in this chamber,' the Spook remarked.
'The Ord's huge,' I said. 'There must be lots of chambers. Just think how many other creatures there must be like these . . .'
'It doesn't bear thinking about, lad. We must press on. At least if danger threatens, those ahead will encounter it first and give us some warning.'
The Spook and Arkwright led the way out of the chamber; but just as I was about to follow I heard a cry behind me and turned to see Alice transfixed, her face a mask of terror. One of the daemons had suddenly sat up on his stone slab; he was gripping her arm tightly and glaring at her malevolently.
He was bleeding from the throat, but evidently the cut hadn't been deep enough and he had awoken to find intruders in his domain. His eyes glittered fiercely and he reached for the curved blade at his belt. He was going to use it on Alice! I ran forward and jabbed him hard in the chest with the end of my staff. He gasped at the contact with rowan wood and opened his mouth; saliva and blood gushed out. He drew his blade, so I jabbed him again. The weapon went spinning from his hand; he released Alice's arm and rolled away from me across his stone bed to land on his feet in a low crouch. He slowly turned to face me, his eyes just above the level of the slab.
Before I could react, he leaped up. No human could have jumped so high and with such speed. He flew over the slab and dropped onto me, sending the staff spinning from my hand. I fell backwards, twisted away and rolled clear. I saw that the daemon was about to attack again and realized I had one chance. It would take too long to get out the silver chain that lay hidden in my breeches pocket, but I might just be able to reach over my shoulder and draw the knife that Grimalkin had given me. But no sooner had the thought entered my head than I realized I was too late. The daemon was upon me.
Two things happened simultaneously. There was a click and something shot forward above my head and speared the creature in the throat. He slumped to his knees, choking, and then fell to one side. After a long shuddering breath he was still.
Alice came to my side; she was holding my staff. The click I'd heard was her releasing the blade, which was now covered in blood. Now the Spook and Arkwright came running back into the chamber. They looked at the dead creature and then at Alice.
'Looks like Alice just saved your life, Master Ward,' Arkwright said as I climbed shakily to my feet.
The Spook said nothing; as usual he begrudged Alice any praise. Just then there was a groan from the far corner of the chamber: another of the Ordeen's servants began to stir.
'Those witches haven't been as thorough as we thought,' John Gregory observed. 'Let's move on. There's no sense in staying here a moment longer than we need. Time is short – and who knows what lies ahead?'
Beyond the door was another passageway, which led upwards once more. We began to climb, the Spook in the lead. Suddenly he raised his hand and came to a halt, then pointed to the wall on our left. A small glowing sphere, a bubble of translucent fire, was floating there at head height. It was no bigger than my fist, and at first I thought it was attached to the wall. As I watched, it floated across the passage and disappeared into the stones.
'What was that?' I asked. 'A fire elemental?'
'Aye, lad, I suppose so. Having lived in the wet County all my life, I've not set eyes on one before. From what I've read they can be very dangerous indeed, but because of all the water that's fallen on the Ord – and found its way inside – it should be some time before they become fully active. All the more reason to press on just as fast as we can! Where's Seilenos? He knows all about such things . . .'
'He's dead,' I explained, shaking my head sadly. 'Despite Mam's warning, he ate the food and drank the wine at the table, and he was killed by one of the daemons.'
'Greed killed the poor man,' said the Spook gravely. 'The County way is the best when facing the dark. It's a pity. We badly needed his expertise here.'
The passage continued to rise even more steeply, and once again we encountered a stone wall barring our way with an opening to the left. Inside the next chamber the lantern revealed more stone slabs with daemons lying upon them. All had been slain in the same way as the others and there was a lot of blood, but as we advanced between the slabs, Alice gave a gasp of horror.
This time, the witches hadn't found things so easy. One of their own number was dead. There wasn't much left of her either. All that remained was her legs below the knees and her pointy shoes. Above them her body had been reduced to black ashes, which were still smoking. The air was tainted with the stench of burned flesh.
'What did that?' I asked. 'That glowing orb we saw before?'
'That or something like it, lad. Some sort of fire elemental for sure. Let's hope it's moved on elsewhere. The Ord is coming to life faster than we hoped,' said the Spook, and then his eyes widened in alarm.
A ball of fire had appeared in the air five paces ahead of us. It was much more threatening than the translucent orb we'd seen earlier. This was slightly larger than a human head and was opaque, throwing out flames, pulsing rhythmically, alternately expanding and contracting. It started to glide towards us, growing rapidly as it did so.
The Spook struck at it with his staff and it retreated a little way before approaching again. Once more he thrust at it, missing it by less than an inch, and it shot forward over our heads at tremendous speed and broke against the far wall in a shower of orange sparks.
Striding quickly forward, the Spook led the way out of the chamber. I glanced back and saw that the fiery orb had re-formed at the base of the wall and was starting to float towards us again. Beyond the doorway, stone steps led steeply upwards and we climbed as fast as we could. I glanced back again anxiously, but the elemental didn't seem to be following us. I wondered if it was confined to the chamber in some way. Maybe its duty was to guard it?
The steps curved up in a spiral. Were we already inside one of the three spires? I wondered. There was no way of telling because there were no windows. I was becoming increasingly nervous. Even if we did succeed in destroying the Ordeen herself, this route was full of elementals . . . and who knew what other creatures? We'd have to come down these steps again, and by then anything that lurked in the shadows would probably be fully awake and dangerous. How could we make our escape?
Moments later we encountered another threat. A dead Mouldheel lay before us on the stairs, identifiable from her bare feet and ragged dress. Where her head and shoulders had been, a glowing orange fire elemental shaped like a starfish writhed and crepitated, moving slowly downwards to consume the remainder of her body. It was one of the asteri the Spook had warned me about.
'Looks like it dropped onto her head as she passed beneath it,' he observed. 'Not an easy way to die . . .'
Pressing our bodies back against the stone walls, we went on, giving the dead witch and her terrifying slayer as wide a berth as possible. But then the Spook pointed ahead. There were four or five similar elementals clinging to the high ceiling, pulsing with fire.
'Not sure whether it's best to move slowly or run for it,' he muttered. 'Let's try it slowly and keep close together. Ready with your staff, lad!'
The Spook took the lead, with Alice following him and Bill Arkwright bringing up the rear. We held our staffs at the ready. My mouth was dry with fear. We climbed slowly and steadily, passing beneath the first two star-shaped elementals. Perhaps these were still dormant or had been affected by the deluge? We could only hope . . .
Just when we thought we'd escaped the danger, we heard a hissing sound and a large elemental dropped straight towards the Spook's head. He whirled his staff, and with a shower of sparks the blade cut it into two pieces. They fell onto the steps behind us. I glanced back to see them crawling towards each other, attempting to re-form into one creature again.
We hurried on but kept checking the ceiling for danger. At last we reached a landing. Facing us were three cavernous doorways, and I realized that t
hese must be the entrances to the three towers.
'So which way is it to be?' asked the Spook, staring at each flight of steps in turn.
'It's anybody's guess!' Arkwright replied with a shrug. 'This place is so big – we'll run out of time before we can search it all. It doesn't look good.'
'Alice could sniff out the danger,' I suggested.
The Spook frowned – clearly he considered that a use of the dark.
I spoke quickly before he could refuse. 'Mam would want us to use every possible means in order to survive and slay the Ordeen!'
'And I've already explained that I don't like all your mam's methods and don't choose to employ them myself!' my master snapped.
'Let Alice do it,' I begged softly. 'Please . . .'
'I think we've little choice but to let the girl try,' Arkwright said.
The Spook closed his eyes as if he was in pain; then gave a barely perceptible nod.
Alice immediately went to the foot of the central flight of stairs and sniffed loudly twice. 'Can't tell what's up there,' she admitted, 'because that's the way the witches went. They've tainted the air, so I ain't able to tell what's beyond them.'
'Then it would make sense to take those steps,' suggested the Spook. 'At least then we might get some warning if they run into trouble. Won't they have sniffed it out as the safest route anyway?'
But before Alice could answer there was a sudden scream from the central tunnel and we could hear someone running down the steps towards us. The Spook raised his staff and there was a click as he released the retractable blade.
A moment later, a shrieking witch ran out onto the landing, her hair on fire, her pointy shoes clattering on the marble floor. I doubt she even saw us. Still screaming, she continued down the steps and was lost from view. Then a second one appeared, a barefoot Mouldheel, one of Mab's followers. Arkwright intercepted her, grabbing her ragged sleeve and threatening her with his staff. Her eyes were filled with terror, her face grimed with soot, but she seemed unhurt.
'Let me go!' she cried.
'What happened?' he demanded.
'Fire daemons! We had no chance. They're dead. All dead!'
With that she tore herself free and ran on down the steps. If she was right, all the witches were dead – even Grimalkin and Mab. The power of the Ordeen was such that they hadn't been able to sniff out the danger and they'd been no match for the fire elementals.
Alice checked the left-hand stairs and shook her head. 'Danger up there!' she said. At the right-hand opening she nodded slowly. 'Seems all right . . .'
So we began a cautious ascent, the Spook once again taking the lead. We seemed to be climbing for ever: my legs grew weary and felt as heavy as lead. It was terrifying to imagine this whole structure passing through a portal, full of dark entities – some of them unknown and not even recorded in the Spook's Bestiary. And what if the Ord were suddenly to return through the portal, carrying us all with it? It was a scary thought and I wished we'd done what was necessary and were on our way out rather than penetrating ever deeper, with a host of unknown dangers ahead of us.
At last we reached the top of the stairs, to be faced with a large, circular bronze door. On it was embossed a huge skull. There was neither lock nor handle, but the Spook placed a hand against the carving and pushed. The door slid open soundlessly. Holding the lantern high, he stepped into a small octagonal room. We looked around in puzzlement. There was no other door. What was this place? What function did it serve?
Almost immediately I received an answer. This was a trap! Suddenly the ground opened beneath my feet and I heard Alice cry out in fear. Then the lantern went out, my stomach lurched, and I fell into nothingness.
CHAPTER
18
A BARGAIN
I landed on soft earth, the impact driving all the breath from my body and jolting my staff and bag out of my grip. It was totally dark – I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. I got to my knees. There was mud beneath me, the dampness starting to soak into my breeches. I called out to the Spook and Alice but received no reply.
However, I wasn't alone. I sensed a movement in the darkness close by. Whatever it was travelled on more than two legs, scuttling delicately towards me. With a start, I felt something touch my ankle just above my boot. It was a gentle touch, almost a caress, and I wondered for a moment if perhaps this was something I didn't need to fear after all. But then that first delicate contact became a grip of steel, and I felt sharp teeth tearing into my leg. I waited for whatever it was to bite through to the bone, even sever my foot, but it began to drag me along behind it. I didn't dare resist. Helpless, I bumped across the ground, then felt the surface beneath me change, becoming hard and cold. I could hear the legs of the creature clicking and clacking across it. Then it stopped, released my leg and scuttled away.
Nearby, people were laughing. I had the impression that their laughter was directed at me, in an attempt to provoke me in some way. I lay perfectly still and said nothing. I'd lost my staff and bag in the fall, and but for the silver chain in my breeches pocket, I was defenceless.
Suddenly the ground beneath me began to sway alarmingly and I heard the creaking of chains. Instinctively I sat up and stretched out my hands at my sides for support. The mocking laughter seemed to be receding below me. Either that or I was somehow being carried aloft. The sounds became fainter and fainter, then faded away altogether. There was a slight movement of air on my face now. I was moving upwards into the darkness!
Feeling like a tiny mouse in a cat's basket, I kept perfectly still and silent. The slightest movement might precipitate an attack. Anything could be lurking in the darkness and I didn't want to draw attention to myself. But then I became aware of shapes about me: it was growing lighter. I had feared the dark, but the light now showed me how hopeless my predicament was.
The surface beneath me was metal, pitted with rust and scratches. As the light intensified, I saw that I was sitting in a deep circular metal dish, suspended from the apex of the spire far above me. Three rusty chains were fastened to its outer edge: apart from its great size, it was very much like the bait-dish spooks used to lure a boggart into a pit. Was I bait for some creature – some large predator? I wondered fearfully.
There were other chains nearby, and they also seemed to be in motion. Above me I heard a deep rumble. How far was I from the ground? As I moved to peer over the edge of the dish, it began to sway alarmingly. Below was a yawning gulf. And all around me I could see other dishes rising up into the spire. I was trapped. There was no way down.
The walls were also getting gradually closer as the spire narrowed. Now I could see the texture of the stones – and something else: there were creatures clinging to the walls – so many that they resembled a colony of insects, the teeming centre of a hive. What were they?
The higher I rose, the closer the curved walls pressed in towards me; suddenly I understood exactly what I was seeing. My heart lurched with fear. I was gazing at a great horde of lamia witches, the vaengir.
There were hundreds of them. Each had four limbs, the heavier back ones armed with savage claws; the forelimbs resembling human arms with delicate hands. A pair of black insectile wings were folded across their backs, concealing an inner, lighter pair. After the deluge they were fluttering them in order to dry them. Outside, on the plain, it would soon be dark, and once their wings were dry they'd be able to leave the Ord and venture out of the cloud shield to attack Kalambaka and the monks of Meteora.
I could see the lamias watching me through their heavy-lidded eyes, gaunt-cheeked and restless; they were eager to feed. The rumbling from above grew louder, changing slowly into a grinding and clanking that hurt my eardrums. I looked up. Above me was a huge spindle, which was spinning slowly, hauling up the chains, drawing the metal dishes upwards.
I glanced down at the other vessels and saw that there were human forms sprawled in some of them – whether alive or dead I couldn't tell because they were too far below me.
None of them seemed to be moving. Suddenly I understood . . .
The Spook's Sacrifice Page 16
