summons. Now you must provide me with what I need!
My previous communications with the boggart had been very different: I had spoken and it had understood, but it had scratched its replies on wood. Why had things changed now? Was this another gift inherited from Mam?
I reflected that it might well be connected with the fact that it had drunk my blood.
What are we waiting for? demanded the voice of the boggart. No human has ever dared touch me before. You are brave! You are worthy to walk with me. Let us kill together!
It seemed that it was happy with me after all. That was why it had been purring.
âYes, weâll go together to the tower on the hill, where my enemies are lodged!â I replied. âHelp me to defeat them and their blood is yours.â So saying, I picked up my staff and set off. The boggart was still invisible, but I could hear it padding at my side as we climbed the final hill. I halted just short of the narrow stone steps and drove my staff into the ground.
âIâll climb up to the tower and fight those who emerge,â I told it. âThen I will retreat slowly, drawing them forth. While I live, do not pass beyond this staff! If I die or fall, then you may attack at will. But when my retreat brings me back below this staff and as many as possible are in the open, that is when I wish you to attack. At that moment you may kill all those both within and without the towerâwith the exception of one person. The girl Alice, who you know, is not to be harmed. Do you understand and accept?â
I knew that the boggart could enter through the arrow slits and slay the witches, but in the confines of the tower they might be able to combine their magic and fight it off. That was why I needed to surprise them out in the open.
Yes! hissed the boggart. It is a good plan. They will be easier to hunt and kill out in the open. My thirst will be slaked more rapidly!
I looked up at the dark tower and the narrow steps that led to the door. With my right hand I drew the sword; with my left, the dagger called Bone Cutter.
I began to climb.
CHAPTER XV
T HE B ATTLE ON THE S TEPS
T HE steep stone steps were barely wide enough for two to walk abreast, and that would serve me well. On either side was a sheer drop to the rocks below, so it would be difficult for my enemies to surround me and come at me from behind. Their superiority in numbers would count for little.
I climbed at a steady pace, wondering if I was being watched. Were there eyes hidden behind the arrow slits? I did not expect to be fired upon. Witches did not use bows themselves, though they sometimes employed servants to carry out tasks such as cooking . . . and opening the iron gate that I now approached; direct contact with iron was painful for a witch. They might have people to fight for them, too. I just had to hope that none of these were bowmen.
Halfway up the steps, I started to wonder if Alice was still in the balcony room. At the thought of her alone in there with the mustached stranger, my anger flared. I tried to banish it from my mind. If I were to succeed in what I was about to attempt, I needed a clear head.
I reached the door and paused before it, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
Then I struck it hard, three times, with the hilt of my sword.
The sound of each blow was loud enough to awaken the dead, echoing around from valley to hill again and again. But there was no response. Nothing seemed to be moving within that dark tower.
So I struck the door three more timesâharder than before.
All was still and silent. What were the witches doing? Were they gathering behind the door, ready to attack? If so, they could not take me by surprise, for the door was heavy and opened only slowly.
For the third time I beat on the door with my sword. And this time I shouted out a challenge. âCome out and fight, coward! Come out and die! What are you waiting for?â
Perhaps they were watching me through
My previous communications with the boggart had been very different: I had spoken and it had understood, but it had scratched its replies on wood. Why had things changed now? Was this another gift inherited from Mam?
I reflected that it might well be connected with the fact that it had drunk my blood.
What are we waiting for? demanded the voice of the boggart. No human has ever dared touch me before. You are brave! You are worthy to walk with me. Let us kill together!
It seemed that it was happy with me after all. That was why it had been purring.
âYes, weâll go together to the tower on the hill, where my enemies are lodged!â I replied. âHelp me to defeat them and their blood is yours.â So saying, I picked up my staff and set off. The boggart was still invisible, but I could hear it padding at my side as we climbed the final hill. I halted just short of the narrow stone steps and drove my staff into the ground.
âIâll climb up to the tower and fight those who emerge,â I told it. âThen I will retreat slowly, drawing them forth. While I live, do not pass beyond this staff! If I die or fall, then you may attack at will. But when my retreat brings me back below this staff and as many as possible are in the open, that is when I wish you to attack. At that moment you may kill all those both within and without the towerâwith the exception of one person. The girl Alice, who you know, is not to be harmed. Do you understand and accept?â
I knew that the boggart could enter through the arrow slits and slay the witches, but in the confines of the tower they might be able to combine their magic and fight it off. That was why I needed to surprise them out in the open.
Yes! hissed the boggart. It is a good plan. They will be easier to hunt and kill out in the open. My thirst will be slaked more rapidly!
I looked up at the dark tower and the narrow steps that led to the door. With my right hand I drew the sword; with my left, the dagger called Bone Cutter.
I began to climb.
CHAPTER XV
T HE B ATTLE ON THE S TEPS
T HE steep stone steps were barely wide enough for two to walk abreast, and that would serve me well. On either side was a sheer drop to the rocks below, so it would be difficult for my enemies to surround me and come at me from behind. Their superiority in numbers would count for little.
I climbed at a steady pace, wondering if I was being watched. Were there eyes hidden behind the arrow slits? I did not expect to be fired upon. Witches did not use bows themselves, though they sometimes employed servants to carry out tasks such as cooking . . . and opening the iron gate that I now approached; direct contact with iron was painful for a witch. They might have people to fight for them, too. I just had to hope that none of these were bowmen.
Halfway up the steps, I started to wonder if Alice was still in the balcony room. At the thought of her alone in there with the mustached stranger, my anger flared. I tried to banish it from my mind. If I were to succeed in what I was about to attempt, I needed a clear head.
I reached the door and paused before it, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
Then I struck it hard, three times, with the hilt of my sword.
The sound of each blow was loud enough to awaken the dead, echoing around from valley to hill again and again. But there was no response. Nothing seemed to be moving within that dark tower.
So I struck the door three more timesâharder than before.
All was still and silent. What were the witches doing? Were they gathering behind the door, ready to attack? If so, they could not take me by surprise, for the door was heavy and opened only slowly.
For the third time I beat on the door with my sword. And this time I shouted out a challenge. âCome out and fight, coward! Come out and die! What are you waiting for?â
Perhaps they were watching me through
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