The buggane opened its mouth wide and growled, showing its two rows of teeth, but Lizzie’s hand continued to advance.
‘There, there, what a good boy you are,’ she said in a soft, husky voice. ‘What a handsome hairy thing you be, your coat all fine and glossy …’
Her left hand was actually touching the buggane now; she was stroking its hideous head just above its wet snout.
‘There, there, my sweet,’ she crooned. ‘We could help each other …’
With those words, Lizzie raised her left hand and pierced her wrist with the long sharp nail of her right forefinger. She positioned the wound above the creature, and drops of blood began to fall onto its snout. Suddenly, from between the sharp triangular teeth, a long purple tongue emerged and began to lick up the blood with an unpleasant slurping sound.
She was feeding the buggane, trying to make it her familiar.
‘Good boy! Good boy! Lick it all up. There’s more where that came from. Now go back to your master and tell him exactly where we are. It’s time we had a little chat …’
The buggane slowly backed away into the tunnel and Lizzie turned towards us triumphantly. ‘That’s a good start! Soon we’ll put it to the test. But our next visitor prefers the dark – so let’s oblige him!’
With those words she blew out the candle, plunging us into darkness.
It wasn’t long before a luminous shape began to form in front of the tunnel. It was the tall, gaunt figure of the shaman.
‘I’ve found you at last,’ he said, his cruel eyes looking only at Lizzie. ‘I’ll make you pay for leading me such a merry dance!’
‘There’s no need for harsh words between us,’ Lizzie replied, a crafty look coming over her face.
‘No? There’s another good man dead, plus five of my best dogs. I owe you for that!’
‘How about what you done to me?’ the witch accused. ‘You stitched my lips together. No man ever shut me up like that before. I should kill you for that, but if we can settle it another way, I’ll let bygones be bygones—’
‘It’ll be settled all right. Within an hour I’ll show you what I can do. I’ll send the buggane – this time in its spirit form. I’ll start with your pet, the girl. By the end of the night she’ll be as good as dead. Next the boy. I’ll save you until the end so you’ll have time to dwell on what’s going to happen—’
‘Suppose the buggane listens to me!’ Lizzie shouted. ‘Suppose it whispers inside your head? Maybe then you’ll be ready to talk terms …’
The shaman scowled and his lips curled disdainfully; then his image faded and disappeared altogether.
‘Can you do that?’ Alice asked out of the darkness. She sounded scared.
‘Can’t make it whisper inside his head yet, but he doesn’t know that, does he? I said enough to make him think, though. You needn’t fear, girl. I’ve already done enough to keep it away from us. It won’t be sure what to do for a while yet. When Lord Barrule finds out it won’t do his bidding, he’ll be back, just you mark my words!’ Alice’s hand found mine again in the darkness and I squeezed it in reassurance. After that nobody spoke for a long time. Lizzie’s strength was being put to the test. Could she really keep the buggane away from Alice? I wondered.
After a couple of hours, the image of the shaman began to form again.
‘You’re soon back!’ Lizzie crowed. ‘No whispering inside the girl’s head yet, is there, my sweet?’ she said, turning towards Alice.
‘Ain’t heard a thing,’ Alice said.
‘What do you want, witch?’
‘Our lives and a safe passage from Mona. West to Ireland, across the sea to the Emerald Isle – that’s where we want to go.’
‘What’s in it for me? You mentioned terms. So what do I get?’
‘First you get to keep your power over the buggane. Longer I stay here, more likely it is to be mine. So it’s in your interests to get me off this island. Next I’ll give you the boy. Last thing I want travelling with me is a spook’s apprentice. Betting man, aren’t you? So make him fight his own dogs – to the death. That should be interesting!’
‘No!’ Alice cried.
‘I won’t do it!’ I protested.
‘Shut your face, girl! Silence! You can both be quiet!’
And then Lizzie said a word under her breath, something guttural in the Old Tongue. My throat tightened, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. I managed to draw in a breath, although I still couldn’t speak. I’d always had some degree of resistance to the dark – being a seventh son of a seventh son had given me that – but I seemed helpless in the face of Lizzie’s dark power. I tried to stand but my limbs didn’t respond. It was as if I were made of stone. I saw Alice start towards me, but then she too was gripped by some dark spell.
‘In return, you pull all your men away from the area around here,’ she continued, turning her attention back to the shaman’s spirit. ‘Call them back into the keep. Once the boy starts to fight, I’ll leave this tree, but only when I’m safely off this island will the buggane do your bidding again. Are we agreed?’
The apparition glared at the witch for quite a while without speaking, then gave just the slightest of nods.
Lizzie smiled. ‘Knew you’d see the sense of it. Rare thing, that. Not many sensible men about. Now send two more sensible men through the tunnels for the boy – that’s if you can find any. If they ain’t sensible, they’ll be dead! So no funny business …’
* * *
It was a matter of minutes before I heard the shaman’s men crawling through the tunnel towards the hollow tree. I was still holding hands with Alice, my left hand in her left hand, gasping for breath.
Lizzie lit her candle again and held it up as the first of the men emerged. He looked scared and stood, uncertain what to do. But the witch instantly took command.
‘That’s the boy you’ve come for!’ she cried, pointing at me.
They dragged me towards the dark entrance of the tunnel. My paralysis was passing, giving way to painful pins and needles, but I was still weak and unable to resist.
‘Don’t forget his staff!’ cried Lizzie. ‘Be needing that, he will! It’s dead dogs or a dead boy. One or the other, that’s for sure!’