A New Darkness

by Joseph Delaney

  “So, Tom . . . ,” Judd began. “How are you coping with work as the Chipenden Spook? Have you come to ask for help? If so, I’d only be too glad. I’ve neither the skill nor the knowledge of poor John Gregory, but I’m sure I’ve plenty to contribute to your training.”

  It annoyed me that Judd used the word “poor” about my master. He wasn’t to be pitied: he’d died fighting the dark and had been a champion of the light all his life. It was the way he’d have chosen to leave this life. But I realized that Judd didn’t really intend anything by the comment, so I let it pass.

  “It’s been very quiet at Chipenden,” I told him. “The dark seems almost dormant.”

  “It’s been the same here, too,” Judd said. “I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of a water witch for over a month. And the recent plague of skelts is well and truly over.”

  At this, I remembered the night I’d faced a dangerous skelt outside this very mill; it had thrust its long bone tube into my neck and tried to drink my blood. I’d been lucky to escape with my life.

  I concentrated on what Judd said next.

  “It’s been almost too quiet . . . it feels as if the dark is gathering its strength.”

  “That could well be the case,” I told him.

  “So has anything else strange happened since you wrote—apart from the fact that you’ve taken on a girl apprentice, that is?”

  I ignored his jibe and began my account. “When I wrote, I told you what I’d learned about the threat from the Kobalos, but it seems that they might launch their attack on the County a lot sooner than I expected. One of the Kobalos, a haizda mage, was here. It had built a lair in a tree less than an hour’s journey from Chipenden. It killed three girls before I realized what I was dealing with. The beast’s dead now, but there could well be others.”

  I went into more detail, describing exactly what had happened and Jenny’s part in it all. At the first mention of her name, Judd raised his eyebrows. But I finished my story, concluding with Grimalkin’s investigation of the lair of the dead mage. I told him about her experiments and the varteki we’d encountered. After that, Judd was silent for a long time.

  “Without that sword, it would have been the end of you,” he said at last. “Perhaps you could ask the witch assassin to make one for me too. If I ever come up against one of those Kobalos mages, my staff wouldn’t be much use.”

  “I can’t tell how effective a staff might be. I’d left mine with the girl, so I never got a chance to use it. But you’re correct: such a mage uses powerful dark magic. Though it wouldn’t be easy for Grimalkin to craft another sword like mine. It’s not just infused with her magic—she forged it from a piece of ore that fell from the sky.”

  “From a meteorite?”

  “Yes, and a very rare one, too. We need to find other ways to deal with such a mage. Hopefully Grimalkin will come up with something.”

  “I’m surprised you took that girl on as an apprentice,” Judd said suddenly, changing the subject. “She hung around here for days awhile back, begging that I do the same. Eventually I had to set the dogs on her. It was the only way to be rid of her. You should have seen her run! One of the dogs tore off a piece of her skirt!”

  No wonder she had been reluctant to come here. I was learning that Jenny kept things to herself and told you little unless you asked outright. It was cruel of Judd to have set the wolfhounds on her—Jenny hadn’t deserved that. I remember how scared I’d been of such big, fierce hunting dogs when I’d first met them. But what was done was done, and I saw no point in antagonizing Judd by bringing him to task for it.

  I shrugged. “I suppose I felt guilty about underestimating that mage. Because of that, I almost got her killed.”

  “Well, you’d be better off without her. For one thing, you’ve still a lot to learn yourself without the added responsibility of an apprentice. Even if she really is the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, there’s no precedent for a woman becoming a spook.”

  “There has to be a first time for everything,” I said, starting to feel angry again. “And I stand by my decision. She had the guts to face up to the ghasts on Hangman’s Hill. I’m sure she’ll make a go of things.”

  “It won’t work, Tom. I never dreamed you’d be daft enough to take on a girl. What would John Gregory have said?”

  I shrugged. “Times are changing, Judd, and we have to change with them. Let me come to the main reason for my visit. I’m going north with Grimalkin to visit the kingdoms that border the Kobalos lands. We’re going to try and learn what we can about our new enemies—I’ll be away for two months or so. Would you be prepared to visit Chipenden and deal with the worst manifestations of the dark there? I know it’s asking a lot for you to manage two large areas, but I’ve nobody else I can turn to.”

  “You’re not leaving the girl behind for me to look after, are you?”

  I shook my head. “No, she’s traveling with me,” I told him. After what Judd had just said, I didn’t want Jenny to have to stay with him. Whether she wanted to leave the County or not, she’d surely rather be out of his way.

  “Well, in that case, as things are relatively quiet for the time being, I’d be only too happy to help out, Tom,” he said with a smile. “A girl apprentice . . . I never thought I’d see the day!”

  23

  The Scream of the Boggart

  ON our journey back to Chipenden, I spoke to Jenny about Judd. After his treatment of her, she was understandably reluctant to stay at home if he was to be there.

  “I assume that you don’t want to stay behind with Judd when I travel north?”

  “I certainly don’t!” Jenny replied with some force.

  “I gathered as much. He told me about setting the dogs on you. Judd was wrong to do that, and I understand your anger. And he won’t stay at the mill. He’ll be visiting Chipenden to keep an eye on things. So even there you’d sometimes be in his company. So are you happy to travel north with us?”

  “I’m not happy at all!” she replied. “The thought of it makes me nervous, but it’s for the best. I’ll just have to get used to the idea.”

  There was no sign of Grimalkin when we crossed the western garden. No doubt she had gone off to make preparations for our journey.

  The first night back, I was awakened in the early hours by a terrible scream. It was so loud that it rattled the lower window sash. It was a scream of rage that I knew well, and it came from nearby.

  The boggart was challenging an intruder.

  I climbed out of bed and dressed quickly. While I was pulling on my socks, the boggart screamed out its challenge for the second time. I knew that it would give three warnings before attacking. It always kept to the rules we had agreed.

  It gave its third warning while I was hastily lacing up my boots.

  What could have entered the garden? I wondered. Normally I’d have been confident that Kratch could deal with it. But with all that was going on at the moment, we could well be facing the Kobalos. After my encounter with the varteki and the haizda mage, nothing was certain.

  Jenny was already waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. She had her staff in her hand and was ready to fight, having already released the blade at its tip.

  “Stay just inside the back door!” I told her. “If anything approaches the house, shout loud enough to awake the dead!”

  “I want to go with you!” she insisted, grabbing my arm.

  “Do as you’re told!” I snapped, reaching for my staff. “You’d be in danger from the boggart.”

  I buckled on the scabbard and sheathed the Starblade before racing across the lawn and into the trees of the western garden. There was some truth in what I’d just told Jenny. The boggart had been instructed not to harm her, but it would now be filled with bloodlust; in the heat of the moment, she could well be at risk. But my main reason for leaving her behind was to keep her at a safe distance from this unknown intruder.

  Suddenly I heard other screams. These did not come from t
he thirsty throat of the boggart; they were cries of agony, probably the dying shrieks of the creature it had attacked. I began to sense the position of the intruder in my mind, though I didn’t really need that gift—the cries drew me to the spot.

  All at once there was silence, and I slowed down, approaching more cautiously. In the moonlight, a scene of carnage greeted me, and I turned and retched. I stood there for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and swallowing to bring my stomach under control.

  The grass was slick with blood. There was a lot of it—too much, I realized, for just one intruder. Then I saw the first of the heads. It had been impaled on a sapling, and its staring eyes were on a level with my own.

  It was a Kobalos mage—there was no doubt about it. I studied the elongated jaw, which hung open, showing sharp teeth. Unlike the mage I’d fought in the tree, the face of this creature was not shaven, and it looked even more bestial. Its long hair was pulled into a single pigtail behind its head.

  All at once I heard the lapping of a rasping tongue. Kratch wasn’t about to let any blood go to waste. After a while, the sound stopped and a purring began; moments later, something furry and cold rubbed against my left leg. It was the boggart in its cat form, and immediately it spoke inside my head.

  They were tasty but strange, it hissed. It was blood of a flavor I’ve never sampled before. I could grow to like it. I want more.

  “How many were there, Kratch?” I demanded.

  There were three. Will more come this way?

  “They might. They are Kobalos mages, and they are my enemies. Soon I must journey across the sea to learn more about them. While I am away, the Spook called Judd Brinscall will come here to work. Allow him entry to the garden and house, and touch not a hair of his head. Is it agreed?”

  Yes, it is agreed. If you need me while you are away, just call my name and I will stand by your side. We will hunt together.

  “If danger threatens, I’ll do so, but I will be far away across the sea. Would it be possible for you to travel such a distance?”

  It would be difficult but not impossible, Kratch replied. Some lines extend across the beds of deep seas. They were there before the land sank and was flooded.

  The boggart was referring to ley lines, which it used to travel rapidly from place to place. It rubbed against my leg again, and then the purring gradually faded away.

  I went back to the house, deciding to leave the gruesome work of collecting up the bloody remains until the morning.

  Once the sun was up the following day, I gave Jenny the task of digging a burial pit while I collected what remained of the three Kobalos.

  “You get all the fun and I get all the digging!” Jenny complained as I returned to her side.

  “Fun, you call it? Collecting fragments of flesh and bone is hardly fun, is it?”

  “Don’t be daft—I didn’t mean that. I mean last night. I wanted to go with you; I wanted to share the danger.”

  I felt annoyed. I couldn’t imagine any situation in which I’d have called my own master daft. But I took a deep breath and spoke to her calmly.

  “If your apprenticeship turns out to be even half as eventful as mine, you’ll have had your fill of danger long before the first year is done and dusted,” I told her. “In this job, you don’t go running toward danger—it comes searching for you!”

  Jenny fell silent at that, but she didn’t look happy in her work.

  I had already used a mirror to tell Grimalkin what had happened. She arrived as I was adding the final pieces to the bloody pile of remains.

  In addition to the body parts, there were pieces of armor, three sabers, and a number of long blades. I had laid these out in a row on the grass.

  “They were assassins.” Grimalkin held up one of the heads and inspected it closely. “The single pigtail denotes that. The most powerful brotherhood of Kobalos assassins is called the Shaiksa—they have three pigtails—but they would no doubt have suffered the same fate at the hands of your boggart. Of course, the Shaiksa have great skill with weapons. You would not wish to meet three of them away from the protection of the boggart.”

  “Do you think they were sent to kill me?” I asked.

  “Not necessarily. I suspect they were sent to reinforce the haizda mage for some other common purpose. No doubt they found its grave and noted that its lair had been entered and searched. It would have been an easy matter to track you back to this house. I would like two of those sabers,” Grimalkin said. “I may have a use for them.”

  “Take what you like,” I told her. I wondered what she wanted them for, but she didn’t volunteer the information and I didn’t ask. Despite our alliance, the witch assassin did not share everything with me. There was much about her that would forever remain a mystery.

  I walked across to inspect the pit Jenny had dug, and then sent her back to the house to study in the library so that she wouldn’t be part of the grisly task I now had to perform.

  Grimalkin helped me to bury what was left of the Kobalos assassins. Apart from the two sabers, I stored the rest of their weaponry in the small room where I kept the spare staffs.

  The entry into the garden by these assassins only made me more certain that I was doing the right thing in traveling north with Grimalkin.

  The Kobalos threat was indeed imminent.

  24

  The Journey Begins

  THE following day, we started to prepare for our journey.

  We bought provisions, and Grimalkin carried a tent into the western garden, setting it up to show us the quarters we would share on the journey. It wasn’t like the ridge tents that I’d seen the County military use; it was a tall, conical structure—a covering of skins was supported by five long poles that bent over to meet at the top. Each pole was formed of three short sections that could be slotted together when erecting the tent. It made them easier to carry.

  One thing caught my eye. Stitched onto the skins were a number of circular pieces of what appeared to be silk; each was embellished with the image of a red County rose. The tent was functional, no doubt well suited to its purpose, but the roses made it look somewhat grand.

  Grimalkin told me that we would need such a tent in the far north, where it was difficult to keep warm at night, but she didn’t mention the roses. I wondered where she had gotten the tent.

  I bought long sheepskin jackets for me and Jenny; we could wear them under our cloaks. At the moment, the County weather was chilly enough to make them welcome. Winter would come early this year.

  By the end of the week, our preparations were complete. Grimalkin already had her own horse and had procured three more—one each for Jenny and me, and one to carry most of our supplies. My final act was to leave a note for Judd Brinscall, telling him of the assassins and their fate at the hands of the boggart. I wanted him to be aware that there could be further intrusions into the garden.

  With that, we set off, heading eastward. At the end of that first day, we rode through a valley in single file, high hills on either side. Grimalkin was in the lead, while I brought up the rear. The sun had already sunk, and darkness was not far away. I’d already had enough. I was far from comfortable in the saddle, and the prospect of weeks of riding filled me with dismay.

  Ahead I saw a small lake, and Grimalkin signaled that we should set up camp beside it.

  She left Jenny and me to put up the tent while she lit a fire and caught some fish for our supper. We struggled a bit—erecting the tent required some skill; no doubt we’d get plenty of practice as we went.

  After we’d eaten, we sat around the fire for a while.

  “How has the first day’s riding been?” Grimalkin asked.

  “Not comfortable,” I replied.

  “My bum’s sore and the insides of my legs are rubbed almost raw,” Jenny complained, “but no doubt I’ll get used to it.”

  “You’ll get used to it, all right,” said the witch assassin. “Today we have begun slowly to allow you to adjust. Tomorrow we will go
a little faster. After we reach the coast and sail across the Northern Sea, we will get up to full speed. We have a long way to go.”

  Soon after that, we turned in for the night. The ground was hard, but the tent proved surprisingly warm. Wrapped in my blanket, I fell asleep within minutes.

  At last we reached Scarborough, a small coastal port with a high castle. There we booked our passage and boarded a large three-masted ship.

  We left our horses behind at a livery stable; the owner halved his exorbitant price after one threatening glare from Grimalkin. We stowed our baggage in the hold, intending to buy or hire new mounts on the other side of the Northern Sea. Grimalkin had traveled this way many times before and knew what she was about.

  And so we sailed slowly away from our own land, across an expanse of water that was quite calm. I’d been warned that, more often than not, the crossing here could be extremely rough.

  “What’s bothering you?” asked Grimalkin, looking at me closely as we leaned over the starboard rail, staring down at the calm water. The lack of wind meant that our vessel was making little progress. “You seem deep in thought.”

  The witch assassin wore a thick gown with a hood and gloves. Had there been a rough sea with spray, she would doubtless have retreated to her quarters belowdecks; even Grimalkin was vulnerable to salt, although she had a far greater tolerance than others from the Pendle witch clans.

  “You’ve convinced me of the need to make this journey,” I told her. “But I don’t like to be away from the County for too long. I feel I’m letting the people down—not doing my duty as John Gregory would have expected.”

  “By traveling with me, you are doing more to help the County than you can imagine. Together we can gather knowledge about our enemies that might make the survival of the County possible. Soon the Kobalos will attack the northern kingdoms. If they fall, they will then press on southward to the coast. Our own lands lie just across this sea. We face a new darkness; one even worse than that threatened by the Fiend. The Kobalos intend to destroy and enslave humanity, make no mistake about it.”