Joseph Delaney - The Spook's Curse

The saint I was named after wasn’t there. Thomas the Doubter. Thomas the Disbeliever. I didn’t know whether it was my mam or my dad who’d chosen that name but they’d chosen it well. I didn’t believe what the Church believed; one day I’d be buried outside a churchyard, not in it. Once I became a spook, my bones could never rest in holy ground. But it didn’t bother me in the slightest. As the Spook often said, priests knew nothing.

I could hear singing from inside the cathedral. Probably the choir I’d heard practising after I visited Father Cairns in his confessional. For a moment I envied them their religion. They were lucky to have something they could all believe in together. It was easier to be inside the cathedral with all those people than to go down into the damp, cold catacombs alone.

I walked across the flags and onto the wide gravel path that ran parallel to the north wall of the church. Instantly, as I was about to turn the corner, my heart lurched up into my mouth. There was somebody sitting down opposite the hatch with his back against the wall, sheltering from the rain. At his side was a stout wooden club. It was one of the churchwardens.

I almost groaned aloud. I should have expected that. After all those prisoners had escaped they’d be worried about security – and their cellar full of wine and ale.

I was filled with despair and almost gave up there and then, but just as I turned, about to tiptoe away, I heard a sound and listened again until I was sure. But I hadn’t been mistaken. It was the sound of snoring. The warden was asleep! How on earth could he have slept through all that thunder?

Hardly able to believe my luck, I walked towards the hatch very, very slowly, trying not to let my boots crunch on the gravel, worrying that the warden might wake up at any moment and I’d have to run for it.

I felt a lot better when I got closer. There were two empty bottles of wine nearby. He was probably drunk and unlikely to wake up for some time. However, I still couldn’t take any chances. I knelt and inserted Andrew’s key into the lock very carefully. A moment later I’d pulled the hatch open and lowered myself down onto the barrels below before easing it carefully back into place.

I still had my tinderbox and a stub of candle that I always carried about with me. It didn’t take me long to light it. Now I could see – but I still didn’t know how I was going to find the burial chamber.

A Sacrifice I picked my way through the barrels and wine racks until I came to the door that led to the catacombs. By my reckoning it was less than fifteen minutes or so before nightfall so I didn’t have long. I knew that as soon as the sun went down, my master would make Alice summon the Bane for the final time.

The Spook would try to stab the Bane through the heart with his blade but he would only get one chance. If he succeeded, the energy released would probably kill him. It was brave of him to be prepared to sacrifice his life, but if he missed, Alice would also suffer. Realizing it had been tricked, and was now trapped behind the Silver Gate for ever, the Bane would be furious; Alice and my master would certainly both pay with their lives if it wasn’t destroyed quickly enough. It would press their bodies into the cobbles.

At the bottom of the steps I paused. Which way should I go? Immediately my question was answered: one of Dad’s sayings came into my head.

‘Always put your best foot forward!’

Well, my best foot was my left foot so, rather than taking the tunnel directly ahead, the one that led to the Silver Gate and the underground river beyond it, I followed the one to the left. This was narrow, just wide enough to allow one person through, and it curved and sloped steeply downwards so that I had a sense of descending a spiral.

The deeper I went, the colder it got and I knew that the dead were gathering. I kept glimpsing things out of the corner of my eye: the ghosts of the Little People, small shapes hardly more than glimmers of light that kept moving in and out of the tunnel walls. And I had a suspicion that there were more behind me than in front – a feeling that they were following me; that we were all moving down towards the burial chamber.

At last I saw a flicker of candlelight ahead and I emerged into the burial chamber. It was smaller than I’d expected, a circular room perhaps no more than twenty paces in diameter. There was a high shelf above, recessed into the rock, and on it were the large stone urns that held the remains of the ancient dead. At the centre of the ceiling was a roughly circular opening like a chimney, a dark hole into which the candlelight couldn’t reach. From that hole dangled chains and a hook.

Water was dripping from the stone ceiling and the walls were covered in green slime. There was a strong stench too: a mixture of rot and stagnant water.

A stone bench curved around the wall; the Spook was sitting on it, both hands leaning on his staff, while to his right was Alice, still wearing the blindfold and earplugs.

As I approached, he stared at me but he didn’t look angry any more, just very sad.

‘You’re even dafter than I thought,’ he said quietly, as I walked up and stood before him. ‘Go back now while you still can. In a few moments It’ll be too late.’

I shook my head. ‘Please, let me stay. I want to help.’

The Spook let out a long sigh. ‘You might make things even worse,’ he said. ‘If the Bane gets any warning at all, it’ll stay well clear of this place. The girl doesn’t know where she is and I can close my mind against it. Can you? What if it reads your mind?’

‘The Bane tried to read my mind a while back. It wanted to know where you were. Where I was too. But I stood up to it and it failed,’ I told him.

‘How did you stop it?’ he asked, his voice suddenly harsh.

‘I lied to it. I pretended that I was on my way home and I told it you were on your way to Chipenden.’

‘And did it believe you?’

‘It seemed to,’ I said, suddenly feeling less certain.

‘Well, we’ll find out soon enough when it’s summoned. Go a little way back up the tunnel then,’ said the Spook, his voice softer. ‘You’ll be able to watch from there. If things go badly you might even have half a chance of escaping. Go on, lad! Don’t hesitate. It’s nearly time!’ drawing in. The Bane would leave its hiding place below ground. In its spirit form it could fly freely through the

I did as I was told, moving back quite some distance into the tunnel. I knew that by now the sun would have dipped below the horizon and dusk would be air and pass through solid rock. Once summoned it would fly straight to Alice, faster than a hawk with folded wings, dropping like a stone towards its prey. If the Spook’s plan worked, it wouldn’t realize where Alice was waiting. Once it was here, it would be too late. But we’d be here too, facing its anger when it realized it had been tricked and trapped.

I watched the Spook climb to his feet and stand facing Alice. He bowed his head and stayed perfectly still for a long time. Had he been a priest I’d have thought he was praying. Finally he reached towards Alice and I saw him draw the wax plug from her left ear.

‘Summon the Bane!’ he shouted, in a loud voice that filled the chamber and echoed down the tunnel. ‘Do it now, girl! Don’t delay!’

Alice didn’t speak. She didn’t even move. She didn’t need to because she called it from within her mind, willing its presence.

There was no warning of its arrival. One moment there was just silence, the next there was a blast of cold and the Bane appeared in the chamber. From the neck upwards it was the replica of the gargoyle over the main cathedral door: gaping teeth, lolling tongue, huge dog’s ears and wicked horns. From the neck down, it was a vast, black, shapeless boiling cloud.