The Bonehill Curse by Jon Mayhew Page A

sneered, smoothing his hair back over his forehead.
    ‘You did kill her then?’ Ness gasped, dismayed she had not trusted her instincts.
    ‘The djinn is coming.’ Cullwirthy’s voice cracked a little. ‘Your parents have vanished and I heard about Henry Lumm – horrible, simply awful. I wanted to save Olwen from such a fate. I wanted her to join me and find a way to stop the djinn. I told her I loved her. But she spat in my face, called me a murderer – me!’
    ‘So you killed her,’ Ness said, frowning.
    ‘Better that than the djinn getting to her.’ Cullwirthy licked his lips. The gun trembled in his hand. ‘I lost my patience. I grabbed the poker by the fire and hit . . . But then I saw you . . . the Bonehill family resemblance was unmistakable. And the Lashkar boy with a silver scimitar. I couldn’t believe my luck!’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Ness edged towards the door.
    ‘Keep still,’ Cullwirthy said, jabbing the barrel of the gun towards her. ‘The djinn will be more than interested in the two of you. Maybe I can catch his attention enough to strike a deal and, if not, then the silver sword with his name on it should be enough to slay him. Oh, don’t look so surprised, Lashkar boy. Bonehill told us all about your lot and their antics.’
    The lamp grew faint and a chill fell over the room. The fire sputtered and began to smoke as if cold water had been poured over it. The smoke boiled and grew, filling the room, making Ness and Azuli cough.
    Cullwirthy cackled, pointing at the shape that solidified in the fog before their eyes. ‘Talk of the devil and he’s sure to appear.’

Malice drinks its own poison.
    T raditional proverb

Chapter Sixteen
    D eath D eals
    The smoke swirled and twisted as the figure grew more substantial. Ness saw the same features of the doll-like creature in her dream but he had filled out and grown in height. Stitches still bound his eyelids together. A grin full of needle teeth spread across his skeletal face. A ragged loincloth was all he wore and boils punctuated the yellowing skin that stretched across his bony frame.
    ‘The Reverend Cullwirthy,’ the djinn hissed. ‘You look well. Has your life been all you hoped?’
    ‘I have no complaints,’ Cullwirthy said, sweat coursing down his brow.
    ‘I’ve just visited the Quilfy household,’ the djinn said, his reedy voice mocking Cullwirthy. ‘But there was no one at home. I was quite put out.’
    ‘She’s beyond your cruelty now, you demon,’ Cullwirthy spat.
    The djinn inclined his head as if in agreement. ‘True, but then she hardly had much of a life with her beloved William. Still, you have problems of your own now.’
    ‘Perhaps,’ Cullwirthy said. ‘But then I thought we might cut a deal, you and I.’ The pistol shook in his grasp but he had pointed it away from Ness. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Azuli edging towards the door.
    ‘A deal?’ The djinn’s grin almost split his scabbed face and his topknot of hair shook as he laughed. ‘What have you got that I would possibly be interested in?’
    Azuli had moved out of Ness’s vision now. Her heart hammered at her ribs. If he could make it to the hall and the sword, they might have a chance.
    ‘The girl, for one,’ Cullwirthy said, nodding in Ness’s direction.
    ‘Ah, Necessity Bonehill,’ the djinn said, bowing low and chuckling to himself. ‘We’ve already met, Cullwirthy. You’re too late on that score. She has four more days by my reckoning. Have you found your parents yet, Necessity?’ He laughed and turned back to Cullwirthy. ‘You have nothing to bargain with and my power is growing. Behold.’ The djinn waved his long fingers at the vicar, who gave a whimper and held up a hand as if to ward off the djinn’s attack.
    Ness stared in horror as Cullwirthy’s hand stiffened and then turned black. The skin took on a polished hue then, with a sickening crack and squelch, the fingers merged into two long claws. Bristly hairs