to accept what I was seeing. The strigoica had lied. They had killed my master.
‘He can still speak,’ she said, ‘but he is in agony and no doubt constantly prays for release. Why don’t you ask him?’
No sooner had she said this than the Spook’s eyelids twitched and he stared up at me. His mouth opened and he tried to speak, but he could only croak, and a dribble of blood ran down his chin. An expression of pain flickered across his face and he closed his eyes again.
‘This has been done in revenge for what you and your allies did to the Fiend,’ Mistress Fresque said. ‘Your master will have no peace until you do what we require. To free his soul his head must be burned. I am willing to give it to you – but first you must bring me the head of the Fiend.’
The Spook groaned and opened his eyes again. He murmured something unintelligible, so I bent forward so that my right ear was close to his lips.
He seemed to choke, his eyes rolling in his head, then cleared his throat and struggled to speak again. ‘Help me, lad!’ he croaked. ‘Get me free of this. This is unbearable – worse than death. I’m in pain. I’m in terrible pain. Please set me free!’
The world spun about me. Overwhelmed by grief, I almost fell.
‘Can you bear to allow your master to remain in this pitiful state for a moment longer than is necessary?’ Mistress Fresque demanded. ‘We know of the witch who carries the Fiend’s head. Her name is Grimalkin. Summon her. Lure her to this place and, in exchange, you will be permitted to release your master from his torment.’
I felt sick to my stomach at what I was being asked to do. In order to destroy the Fiend I was being asked to sacrifice Alice; now his supporters wanted me to bring about the death of Grimalkin, another of my allies. But betraying Grimalkin was only the first of the consequences of returning the Fiend’s head to his servants. They would take it back to Ireland and reunite it with the body, freeing him from the pit at Kenmare. He would come for me and Alice, and snatch us away into the dark, dead or alive. The prospect terrified me, but my duty was clear in any case: it was owed to the people of the County. I could not allow the Fiend to return to the earth – which would soon become a darker and more desperate place. No, I could not do it. But I could seize my master’s head by force and give him peace.
I drew the sword.
Instantly a freezing wind gusted into the cellar and all the torches were extinguished. Out of the darkness I saw eyes staring at me. Each pair glowed red, as they had the previous night – but this time there were even more, and I heard threatening growls and noises that sounded like claws on the flags. I spun round, ready to defend myself, but saw that I was surrounded. Where had they come from? I wondered.
I was afraid. There were too many of them. What chance did I have against such odds?
‘It is not too late!’ Mistress Fresque hissed at me from the darkness. ‘Put away the sword immediately and you will be under my protection once more.’
With trembling hands I tried to sheathe the Destiny Blade. It took me three attempts to return it to its scabbard, but when I had done so, the red eyes faded, the scratching ceased, and the torches flared and filled the cellar with yellow light once more.
‘Another second and it would have been too late,’ Mistress Fresque told me, closing the lid of the box and turning to leave. ‘Follow me. Now that you have drawn your sword it isn’t safe for you to spend too much time below ground. My protection is limited.’
She led the way back up the steps and into the library. ‘Do not delay in summoning the witch assassin,’ she warned me. ‘We offer to release your master’s head in exchange for that of the Fiend, but it must be done soon. Every day you delay his torment will be increased. We can inflict unimaginable pain upon him.’
‘Where is the remainder of him?’ I asked,
‘He can still speak,’ she said, ‘but he is in agony and no doubt constantly prays for release. Why don’t you ask him?’
No sooner had she said this than the Spook’s eyelids twitched and he stared up at me. His mouth opened and he tried to speak, but he could only croak, and a dribble of blood ran down his chin. An expression of pain flickered across his face and he closed his eyes again.
‘This has been done in revenge for what you and your allies did to the Fiend,’ Mistress Fresque said. ‘Your master will have no peace until you do what we require. To free his soul his head must be burned. I am willing to give it to you – but first you must bring me the head of the Fiend.’
The Spook groaned and opened his eyes again. He murmured something unintelligible, so I bent forward so that my right ear was close to his lips.
He seemed to choke, his eyes rolling in his head, then cleared his throat and struggled to speak again. ‘Help me, lad!’ he croaked. ‘Get me free of this. This is unbearable – worse than death. I’m in pain. I’m in terrible pain. Please set me free!’
The world spun about me. Overwhelmed by grief, I almost fell.
‘Can you bear to allow your master to remain in this pitiful state for a moment longer than is necessary?’ Mistress Fresque demanded. ‘We know of the witch who carries the Fiend’s head. Her name is Grimalkin. Summon her. Lure her to this place and, in exchange, you will be permitted to release your master from his torment.’
I felt sick to my stomach at what I was being asked to do. In order to destroy the Fiend I was being asked to sacrifice Alice; now his supporters wanted me to bring about the death of Grimalkin, another of my allies. But betraying Grimalkin was only the first of the consequences of returning the Fiend’s head to his servants. They would take it back to Ireland and reunite it with the body, freeing him from the pit at Kenmare. He would come for me and Alice, and snatch us away into the dark, dead or alive. The prospect terrified me, but my duty was clear in any case: it was owed to the people of the County. I could not allow the Fiend to return to the earth – which would soon become a darker and more desperate place. No, I could not do it. But I could seize my master’s head by force and give him peace.
I drew the sword.
Instantly a freezing wind gusted into the cellar and all the torches were extinguished. Out of the darkness I saw eyes staring at me. Each pair glowed red, as they had the previous night – but this time there were even more, and I heard threatening growls and noises that sounded like claws on the flags. I spun round, ready to defend myself, but saw that I was surrounded. Where had they come from? I wondered.
I was afraid. There were too many of them. What chance did I have against such odds?
‘It is not too late!’ Mistress Fresque hissed at me from the darkness. ‘Put away the sword immediately and you will be under my protection once more.’
With trembling hands I tried to sheathe the Destiny Blade. It took me three attempts to return it to its scabbard, but when I had done so, the red eyes faded, the scratching ceased, and the torches flared and filled the cellar with yellow light once more.
‘Another second and it would have been too late,’ Mistress Fresque told me, closing the lid of the box and turning to leave. ‘Follow me. Now that you have drawn your sword it isn’t safe for you to spend too much time below ground. My protection is limited.’
She led the way back up the steps and into the library. ‘Do not delay in summoning the witch assassin,’ she warned me. ‘We offer to release your master’s head in exchange for that of the Fiend, but it must be done soon. Every day you delay his torment will be increased. We can inflict unimaginable pain upon him.’
‘Where is the remainder of him?’ I asked,
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