Joseph Delaney - The Spook’s nightmare

However, to her relief he was back before noon the following day – though the news he brought was mostly bad. Within the hour, the Tynwald had assembled again and had appointed Lizzie ruler of the island; the Parliament was dissolved, leaving her in full control.

‘It was over so quickly,’ Simon said. ‘Everyone was scared of her. They just did what she wanted, then went home. Who can blame them?’

The Spook nodded. ‘What then? Did Lizzie stay in St John’s?’

‘No, she left immediately for Greeba Keep.’

‘What about Daniel Stanton’s forces? Did she take prisoners with her?’

‘Just one – Stanton himself. She was in a great hurry to get away – she seemed excited about something, and I don’t think it was just about becoming ruler of Mona. She took no other prisoners. That was the only good thing about the whole business: all the yeomen had been comrades once and they weren’t keen to fight each other, so there were no casualties. Only half a dozen were wounded, and none seriously. Those who didn’t return to Greeba with Lizzie simply went home.’

‘I wonder why she rushed back so quickly,’ muttered the Spook thoughtfully.

‘Do you think she’s found out about the cavern and what it contains?’ I asked him.

‘It’s possible, lad. If so, she’ll take some stopping, that’s for sure.’ He looked across the table at Simon and Adriana. ‘I think you two will be safe enough here,’ he told them. ‘But as soon as Bony Lizzie gets her hands on that cache of power, she’ll come looking for the three of us. We’ll take the dogs and make ourselves scarce.’

‘There’s an abandoned cottage south of here in Glenmaye,’ Adriana said. ‘It’s not been lived in for years but you’d have a roof over your head.’ Suddenly she blushed. ‘It’s where I used to meet Simon – a place Father didn’t know about. Simon would go and wait for me there and I’d join him if I could get away from the mill. Trust me, you’ll be safe there.’

Adriana gave us a sack of supplies: hams, potatoes, carrots and cheese. It was heavy, so I handed our bags to Alice and carried the sack over my shoulder. Adriana also sent one of the mill workers, a young lad, to guide us.

The cottage stood on the edge of the glen just inside a wood; although the trees had lost their leaves, it was well hidden and could only be reached by a narrow track that twisted its way between the hills. We arrived just before dark and spent an uncomfortable night sleeping on the damp flagged kitchen floor. The following morning we set about making ourselves more comfortable. It was a simple cottage – two up and two down – and every room was full of rubbish: broken furniture, mildewed blankets, and piles of leaves, blown in through the open doorway – the front door had come off its hinges.

Alice crafted a broom of twigs and set about sweeping the place clean. I laid four big fires, one in each room, so that we were soon warmer and the cottage was starting to dry out a little. I hadn’t the tools to put the door back on its hinges, but I propped it up in the doorway, supported by heavy stones. There was still a draught but it kept most of the chill out.

However, the kitchen was where we felt most comfortable. That night, after a meal of boiled ham and potatoes, we sat cross-legged on the flags close to the fire. We were all tired and the Spook’s head kept nodding forward onto his chest. Soon he was fast asleep. After a while he started to groan and mutter to himself. He sounded scared. At last he opened his eyes wide and woke up with a gasp of terror.

‘What was it – another nightmare?’ I asked.

‘It was more than a nightmare, lad. Lizzie was right inside my mind, taunting and threatening me. Telling me what she’ll do to me when I fall into her hands once more.’

It saddened me to see my master in this state – and to be powerless to help him. ‘It’s not worth worrying about,’ I told him, attempting to be optimistic. ‘She may be able to torment your mind but she’s a long way away. We’re safe for now.’

The Spook stared at me angrily. ‘Not worth worrying? I’ve every right to be worried. In all my time as a spook I’ve never felt so low and close to defeat. My library and house are gone and I’m exiled here on an island ruled by a witch who’ll only grow more powerful with each day that passes. I’ve never failed to bind a witch before, never missed with my silver chain. And now I’ve failed not once but twice. Lizzie’s proved to be too strong for me. Everything I’ve worked for all these years has been overturned. I never thought it would come to this.’

‘We’ll find a way to deal with Lizzie,’ Alice said. ‘There might be something in that shaman’s notebook that could help. After all, he worked with the buggane to build that cache of magic.’

‘Using the dark to fight the dark again?’ My master shook his head sadly.

‘No,’ Alice contradicted him. ‘It ain’t that at all. You once asked me to tell Tom what I’d learned from Lizzie so he could write it down in his notebook. You do remember saying that, don’t you?’

The Spook nodded.

‘Well, this is the same. I’m just trying to get information. I’ll start reading at first light.’

‘As long as it’s only reading, girl,’ he warned. ‘Remember, no spells or you’ll answer to me!’

The following morning, after breakfast, Alice started on the shaman’s notebook, but she didn’t find it easy going. Some of it was in code and impossible to decipher. Even the parts that could be read used terms she’d never even heard of. It seemed that animism was a very different type of magic to that taught by Bony Lizzie. However, Alice was not one to give up easily, and she returned again and again to her study of that notebook. Sometimes she looked excited, as if she’d made some progress, but when I questioned her about it, she shook her head and wouldn’t discuss it with me. Then, three days after the Spook’s nightmare, I had one of my own.

I was in a dark forest, alone and unarmed. My staff lay somewhere nearby, but I couldn’t find it. I was desperate, because in a few minutes, at midnight, something would be coming after me – something terrible.

Later, when I woke up, I couldn’t remember what it was – dreams are like that sometimes – but I knew it had been sent by a witch seeking revenge for something I’d done to her.

In my dream, a church bell began to chime somewhere in the distance. I froze, petrified, but on the twelfth note I began to run towards it. Branches whipped at my face as I sprinted desperately through the trees. Something was chasing me now, but it wasn’t footsteps that I heard: it was the beating of wings.

I glanced back over my shoulder and saw that my pursuer was a large black crow. The sight of it filled me with terror, but I knew that if only I could reach the church I’d be safe. Why that should be I don’t know – churches aren’t usually places of refuge from the dark. Spooks and apprentices relied on the tools of their trade and the knowledge they’d gained. Nevertheless, in that nightmare I knew that I had to reach the church or die.

I suddenly tripped over a root and sprawled headlong. Winded, I struggled to my knees and looked up at the crow, which had alighted on a branch. The air shimmered in front of me and I blinked furiously to clear my vision. When I could finally see again, I was confronted by a figure in a long black dress. She was female from the neck down but had the huge head of a crow.

Even as I stared, the crow’s head began to change. The beak shrank, and the eyes shifted shape until the head was fully human. And I knew that face. It was that of a witch who was now dead.

I must have cried out on awaking from that dream. The Spook was still fast asleep, but as I sat up, shuddering, Alice’s arm went around my shoulders.