But it wasn’t all bad: such a spell isn’t selective, and it affected Lizzie’s own troops as well as our own. Had she not realized that would happen? The spell had surely failed to gain her any advantage at all, I thought. Perhaps the power had gone to her head.
There were yeomen running in all directions across the green, along with members of Parliament and other dignitaries, their gowns of office flapping around their ankles. But where was Lizzie?
‘There she is!’ cried the Spook, pointing with his staff.
She was standing near the hill, staring at us malevolently. For a moment her eyes locked with mine and a new tremor of fear and anticipation ran through my body. I now faced something more dangerous than dread, which I had already brushed aside. Lizzie had the power to kill us from a distance, and I was the most likely candidate. She wouldn’t slay the Spook outright; she owed him a long, lingering, painful death. Alice was her daughter, and I wasn’t sure what she’d do with her. But I was just a thorn in her side, the one responsible for the destruction of Mother Malkin, Lizzie’s grandmother.
We were still running towards her, weaving our way through the thinning ranks of yeomen, when suddenly the sky grew dark. In an instant the sun vanished as angry clouds raced in from the west and the trees began to shake and moan. Torrential rain drove right into our faces, making it difficult to see. This was more powerful dark magic being conjured by Lizzie.
I bowed my head and wiped the water out of my eyes, my left hand gripping my staff. I was near her now, and when I raised my head, I saw her face twist into a cunning, lopsided smile, which widened into an evil grin of pure triumph. Suddenly I realized that this was what she had intended all along. She didn’t care that her own forces had been scattered by her spell. All she wanted was to face the Spook, Alice and me and take her revenge. She truly believed that she was a match for the three of us together.
I was ahead of the Spook, ahead of Alice; another dozen paces would bring me within striking distance. I raised my staff, holding it like a spear. Lizzie was now gripping two long blades and getting ready to use them on the first to come within range.
I was almost upon her when someone surged past me, sword held aloft.
‘She’s mine!’ cried Daniel Stanton. Somehow his courage had managed to counter the witch’s spell.
But as he reached her, thrusting the sword towards her heart, the witch knocked it aside with the blade in her left hand; using her other weapon, she cracked the handle down with great force on the back of his head. Stanton staggered and fell, rolling over and over, the sword flying out of his hand.
Why hadn’t Lizzie used the blade? I wondered. Immediately my question was answered, for she spoke right inside my head:
There’ll be a slow painful death for him – for you and your master too!
In an instant I was upon her. I stabbed down at the witch with my staff, but at the last moment I slipped on the wet grass and she struck me a glancing blow with the handle of her dagger. A light flashed inside my head and I don’t remember hitting the ground.
I must have lost consciousness briefly, because the next thing I knew, the Spook was slowly approaching Lizzie, his staff held diagonally across his body. Alice was standing to one side, her face fearful, watching the encounter between the witch and my master. Lizzie was grinning again, almost gloating. I looked at the Spook and I could see his fear. No, it was more than that. His whole face was twitching, and his eyes told me that he was already defeated. No doubt Lizzie was speaking inside his head, telling him that he had no chance against her; telling him what she would do to him after taking him prisoner.
The sight of my master in that situation horrified and dismayed me. He had always been such a tower of strength. Even when temporarily defeated by the dark, he had always been brave and optimistic. All that was gone now – I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him brought so low.
Suddenly the Spook lowered his staff and fell to his knees at Lizzie’s feet. She smiled and raised her dagger high, about to bring the handle down on his head and knock him unconscious. I sat up and staggered to my feet, but a wave of dizziness and nausea immediately washed over me. I wanted to intervene but knew I couldn’t reach my master in time.
But there was an intervention. Alice suddenly shouted out – it was a word in the Old Tongue. I didn’t know what it meant but guessed it was some sort of spell. Something seemed to dart between Alice and Lizzie; something small and dark. Alice didn’t throw it – whatever it was came straight out of her open mouth.
The effect on the bone witch was immediate. Lizzie staggered backwards and the dagger fell from her grasp. And then Alice attacked, holding her dagger aloft – though she didn’t stab Lizzie. She used her other hand to draw her nails right down the witch’s face. Lizzie screamed and fell back.
This was my chance and I stepped forward, raising my staff to drive my blade into her heart. But though I tried with all my strength, I could not hurt her as Alice had done. I was no match for her power. The staff froze in my hands.
‘Quick, Tom!’ Alice cried, dragging the Spook to his feet. I picked up his staff, took his other arm, and we started to pull him away. I glanced back and saw Lizzie still clutching her face. Whatever Alice had done, I knew its effects wouldn’t last long.
Somehow we got clear, losing ourselves in the throng of terrified people. As we headed back through the trees, we saw people still staggering about, both yeomen and members of the Tynwald, their faces showing bemusement and terror. Of Simon Sulby there was no sign.
As we made our way into the forest, the Spook shrugged us off almost angrily. ‘I can walk! I don’t need dragging!’ he snapped, and immediately started off ahead of us. At first he seemed unsteady on his feet, but then he pressed on with more vigour. Alice and I dropped back a little so we could talk.
‘He’s not angry with us, he’s angry with himself,’ I told her.
‘Old Gregory’s pride’s hurt,’ Alice said. ‘Lizzie bested him again – no mistake about that.’
‘But you bested Lizzie. How did you manage that when she’s so strong?’
‘It was something that my aunt Agnes once taught me. It’s a spell some witches call talon. You bite off a small piece of the nail of your forefinger and spit it at your enemy. Then you scratch her face and stun her. Took Lizzie by surprise, it did. She didn’t know I could do that. Only gave us a few moments though. I’ll never be able to repeat that spell. She’ll be ready for me next time.’