Although she grinned with delight at my tears, which flowed as copiously as the rain that swept over us, I cared nothing for her heartless words. My tears were for Alice and for myself. Now the world had changed terribly. I had lost my mam and dad, and both losses had been devastating, but this was different. This was a pain beyond even that. I had called Alice my friend, held hands with her, sat beside her. But only now that she was snatched away for ever did I fully realize the truth.
I loved Alice, and now she was gone.
After collecting the creature from the barrow, we returned to the cottage, and Thin Shaun threw me onto the bed like a sack of rotten potatoes.
Scarabek looked at me with scorn. ‘Even if you weep an ocean,’ she hissed, ‘your sorrow will not even be able to approach mine. I loved my sister as myself, for indeed she was me and I her!’
‘What do you mean?’ I demanded. Despite my anguish, the spook in me was waiting just below the surface. My master had taught me to use every opportunity to learn about our enemies so as to be in a better position to eventually defeat them.
‘We were twins,’ she answered. ‘Witch-twins of a type so rare that only once before has our like been seen in this land. We shared one mind – a mind controlling two bodies. I looked out through her eyes and she through mine.’
‘But your eyes are not the same as hers. One is blue and the other is green – why should that be so?’ I asked curiously.
‘Once both my eyes were blue, but since my sister’s death I have wandered among the Hollow Hills, seeking power,’ the witch replied. ‘All who stay too long there are changed. But we were closer than you can ever imagine. The experiences she had, I had too. The pain she felt, I felt too. I was there when you betrayed and killed her. Half of me was ripped away at her death.’
‘If you were there, then you will know I didn’t kill her,’ I protested. ‘It was my master, Bill Arkwright.’
‘Don’t lie! You were working together. You planned her death. It was a trick – your device.’
I shook my head weakly. ‘That’s not true. I would have kept my side of the bargain.’
‘Why should I believe a spook’s apprentice? What you say matters little and will make no difference to what I plan.’
‘What are you going to do with me now?’ I asked. It was better to know the worst. Despite my grief, I was still calculating the odds against me – searching for any chance of escape, however slim. My silver chain was still on the floor where Thin Shaun had cast it. But when I looked at it out of the corner of my eye, Scarabek gave me an evil smile.
‘Forget that. Your days of wielding such a weapon are over. You will be too weak to use it, being food for Konal. He’ll be hungry again within the hour.’
‘Konal is your familiar?’
The witch shook her head. ‘No, Konal is my beloved son, and his father is Thin Shaun, the barrow keeper, whose time on this earth is now short. A keeper has only one son, born of a witch – the child who will replace him and continue his role.’
‘The keeper? Why is he called that?’
‘The name is apt. Keepers maintain the many barrows that are scattered across our land. Once they contained the bones of the ancient dead, but now they are refuges for the Celtic witches. Shaun keeps the magic strong and appeases those who made them, for their spirits are never far away. He offers them blood.’
A horrible thought struck me. Did Thin Shaun need blood like his son? I glanced up at the keeper, who gave me an evil smile.
‘I can see the fear in your face,’ he told me. ‘You think I seek to drain you too? Am I right?’
I shrank away from him. Could he read my mind?
‘Well, you needn’t fear on that account,’ Thin Shaun said. ‘I offer up the blood of animals. Only rarely does a keeper take human blood. But then, if his thirst is great, he drains his victims until they are dead.’
‘But none of this concerns you, who have perhaps less than a week to live,’ the witch interrupted. ‘Soon we’ll be in Killorglin and your suffering will intensify. We’ve talked enough. Shaun, bring more gruel!’
They force-fed me again, this time a smaller amount; then, while I lay there, helpless, my mouth dry, a gritty feeling in my throat, the world beginning to spin, the witch brought her child over to where I lay. She partially unwrapped it from the blanket and laid Konal close to my neck. Within moments I felt the stab of its sharp teeth, and while Scarabek watched over me, smiling, my blood was slowly drained.
My thoughts were still all of Alice’s fate, and the grief was in my throat and chest, almost choking me. It was a relief to grow weaker, the poisoned gruel and slow loss of blood plunging me into a merciful unconsciousness.
I REMEMBER VERY little. We must have used horses – as if from a great distance, I heard the sound of hooves, and my body was repeatedly jolted and shaken. Whether I was in a cart or tied over the back of a pony I’m not sure – maybe, over the duration of the journey, both.
My next clear recollection was of sitting on a heap of dirty straw in a dusty attic. It was full of rubbish, and curtained with enormous cobwebs strewn with desiccated fly carcasses; spiders were coiled in dark corners, ready to spring upon their next victim. There was daylight coming through the only window – a skylight set in the sloping ceiling directly above me. I could hear the squawking and pattering of seagulls walking on the roof. I was alone in the room, my hands tied behind my back – though my legs were free.
I felt shaky, but at the second attempt managed to struggle to my feet. I could hear other noises: the occasional clip-clop of hooves, and people shouting in the sing-song manner of market traders. I suspected that I was now back in Killorglin. I leaned against the door handle, but it was locked, so I moved around the attic, looking for something I could use to help me escape. Perhaps there was something sharp to cut through my bonds …
I’d no sooner started my search than the room went dark. Was there a heavy cloud overhead blotting out the sun? Was a storm approaching? I wondered. The street sounds had also gradually faded away until I could hear nothing beyond the walls of my prison: I was trapped in a cocoon of silence.
Next the temperature began to drop; it warned me that something from the dark was approaching. I sat down in a corner with my back against the wall so that nothing could come at me from behind. I’d no weapons I could use to defend myself. If only my hands were free, I thought. Having them bound made me feel vulnerable.