Thorne shook her head. ‘We will find a way to destroy him, and then we can go safely into the dark, where we belong. One day I will be reborn into a new body: I will become a witch assassin once more and try to surpass all that I have achieved in this life!’
I smiled. Witches returned not only as dead vampiric creatures; they could sometimes also be reincarnated into a brand-new body and live a second or even third life.
‘Now complete your story, please,’ urged Thorne. ‘They sent others after you, didn’t they?’
I nodded. ‘Yes. I waited almost three days for the next to find me. There were two, and they arrived together. We fought as the sun went down. I remember how it coloured the river red; it looked as if it was filled with blood rather than water. I was young, strong and fast, but they were veterans of such fights and knew tricks that I had not even imagined, never mind en countered. They hurt me badly, and the scars of those wounds mark my body to this day, but I learned much during that fight. The struggle lasted over an hour and it was very close, but at last victory was mine and the bodies of two more Deanes went into the marsh.
‘It was almost three weeks before I was fit to travel, but in that time they sent no more avengers after me. The trail had gone cold and it was unlikely that anyone would have recognized me that night when I stabbed the Fiend.’
‘Even to this day, the Deanes don’t know that it was you, do they?’ Thorne asked.
‘That’s true, child – you are the only one I’ve told this tale to. Let’s hope they never find out or my days as a witch assassin would be over. I would be hunted down by a whole clan. They would never forget.’
A witch assassin of necessity walks alone. The allies she makes are few in number; thus they are valued highly, their loss keenly felt.
SOON THORNE FELL asleep by the fire. Of the lamia sisters there was no sign. They had gone into the underground region of the tower – for what purpose I could not guess. So I climbed the steps up onto the battlements. No moon was visible, and the wind was rising; heavy clouds blew across the sky from the west. So I penetrated the darkness, gazing out across the clearing towards the encircling trees of Crow Wood with my witchy eyes.
I could see the roosting crows and spied a badger rooting around close to his sett, but apart from that nothing moved. I sniffed three times to be sure, but there was no danger.
That was strange. I would have expected to find at least one enemy spy out there.
Satisfied, I crossed the battlements again and began to descend the steps. Suddenly lights began to flicker in the corners of my eyes. I felt dizzy, and the sack containing the Fiend’s head seemed to grow much heavier. The world spun around me. I almost fell headfirst but managed to drop to my knees. Everything grew dark and my heart thudded ponderously. I took slow, steady, deep breaths until my vision cleared at last.
As the moment of weakness passed, I came slowly to my feet. Was this the long-term damage that Agnes Sowerbutts had warned might be a result of my poisoning by the kretch? If I suffered such a spasm during a fight with an enemy, I would certainly be killed. It was terrible to be compromised in this way. I had always had a great belief in my skills and my ability to overcome any opponent and dominate each situation. Suddenly my world had changed. I was no longer totally in control.
Shaken, I sat down at the foot of the steps and rested for a while with my head on my knees. I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I remember is sensing the movement of my mirror in its sheath. It was in my hand before I’d opened my eyes.
Agnes’s face came into focus. For a moment I thought she had scryed what I had experienced and was contacting me to offer advice. But then I saw the expression of fear on her face and knew that something was very wrong. She mouthed words at me so quickly that I had to concentrate hard in order to read her lips:
A fierce battle has been fought just south of Roughlee and the supporters of the Fiend have won. They have invited the kretch and its creators to join them in Pendle and they will soon combine to destroy you. Even Malkin Tower may not be safe. Flee north while you can!
‘But what ails you, Agnes?’ I asked softly. ‘I can see your lips trembling with fear.’
They are coming for me, Grimalkin. For what purpose I cannot scry. When I try, despite all my skill, the mirror grows dark. It is well-known that a witch is unable to foresee her own death. I was consumed with grief when my poor husband died and I will never be as happy as I was when living with him. But I have grown used to my situation – at least I am warm and comfortable. I hoped to have many more years ahead of me. I am not ready to die yet.
‘Listen, Agnes, leave your cottage immediately and head towards the tower. It doesn’t matter how slow your progress. I will find you and carry you safely within.’
It’s too late! Too late for me! I hear them banging at my door now. Outside there are many witches. I can hear their yells of anger! I am about to die!
All at once the mirror went dark. Agnes was in the hands of our enemies and now there was nothing I could do to help. But I would avenge Agnes and repay my enemies thrice over for everything they did to her.
* * *
At dawn, up on the battlements, I told the others about Agnes and what I had learned. It was starting to rain, and now I could sniff out enemy witches lurking amongst the trees.
‘Why did they go directly to Agnes’s cottage to seize her?’ Thorne asked.
‘Despite the fact that she kept herself to herself, no doubt it was already common knowledge amongst the Deanes that she was not a supporter of the Fiend. But there were others they could have taken first – some more active in their cause. I suspect that they used a scryer to link her to me. Perhaps they know that we visited her cottage and that she helped me. If this is so, they will know about you too.’
Thorne shrugged. ‘It was only a matter of time before they found out anyway. You could not keep me a secret for ever – certainly not from witches. But surely we can do something?’ she insisted. ‘We owe Agnes a lot. Over the last four years she’s been like a grandmother to me – and a true friend. We must help her. I cannot bear the thought of her being alone and afraid, in the cruel hands of merciless enemies! How can we stand by and allow this to happen?’
I shook my head. ‘There will be too many of them. And she may already be dead. I am sorry about Agnes – she was a good friend to me too – but to keep the Fiend’s head out of their clutches is our main concern.’