So the Spook and I headed directly for the chapel. Despite his wishes, I hoped Alice wouldn’t be very far behind. She couldn’t afford to distance herself from the blood jar. We arrived at the ruins and waited just inside the trees, within sight of those crumbling dark stone walls. The minutes passed but nothing happened; Lizzie would be getting further and further away with every second, I thought.
It was a cold, crisp, clear night and the grass was white with hoar frost. Half a waning moon cast dappled shadows on the ground. Occasionally an owl hooted, but apart from that all was silent; there wasn’t even a breath of wind.
‘Why doesn’t the buggane attack?’ I asked.
‘It’s nearby – I can feel it in my bones – but it’s not showing itself,’ the Spook answered. ‘Most likely it’ll be down the slope close to the water’s edge – a place we want to avoid. It’ll take the shape of a worme on that marshy ground, and wormes are hard to kill. But what choice do we have? Let’s get it over with!’
I followed my master towards the incline. I was gripping my staff nervously. The last thing I wanted was to face a worme again. I remembered the way they could spit poison and bite off an arm or leg with those rows of sharp teeth.
As we descended, the slope became steeper and our boots squelched in the soft ground. I soon found it hard to stay on my feet. Below, the murmur of the river was ever louder, though as yet I couldn’t see it through the trees. They grew closer together here, interspersed with dense bushes and saplings, making our progress difficult and forcing us to make frequent detours.
‘Spread out!’ the Spook commanded. ‘Giving it more than one target will distract it.’
I did as he said, obeying without question and moving away to the left. My master was the expert here and, having already faced a worme, I knew it was the same advice that Bill Arkwright would have given: he’d been the specialist on all creatures that lived in marsh and water.
We were very close to the riverbank now, and the Spook was hidden from view by bushes and tall reeds, though I could still hear the suck and squelch of his boots.
It was then that I heard another noise in the reeds; a heavy wet slippery sound, almost as if someone had fallen onto their back and was sliding down the steep slope towards the water. But the sound was getting louder and moving closer – up the slope, directly towards us. My heart lurched with fear.
All at once something burst through the reeds directly ahead of me and lunged for my head. I threw myself sideways, catching a glimpse of something above me before it withdrew back into the reeds: a long, sinuous body like a fat snake, small fierce eyes and a mouthful of fanged teeth.
It certainly wasn’t a worme – at least not the type that I’d once fought – and the only snakes I’d ever seen were small grass snakes and, more rarely, adders. But this was huge. It had to be the buggane, and it had taken the form of a great serpent.
In a blind panic, I struggled to my knees. I was only just in time. It attacked, and this time I jabbed at the creature with my staff. It hissed and retreated again. I came cautiously to my feet and heard a scuffle to my right. Then the Spook shouted something – I didn’t catch it the first time, but when he repeated it, I realized it was a cry of warning.
‘Hydra!’
From what my master had taught me, I knew that we were in serious trouble. There were many forms of hydra, some real, some just fantastic creatures made up by storytellers. The one referred to in the Spook’s Bestiary was a creature called a Scylla, which had seven heads. All hydra certainly had several heads – and this one was attacking my master and me simultaneously.
Again I heard that slithering sound, and the snake-like head surged towards me along the ground, parting the reeds before rearing up towards my throat. But this time I was ready, and I used my staff like a spear, ramming the blade past its teeth and right down its throat with all my strength. It screamed and convulsed, and blood sprayed in an arc from its fanged mouth. It retreated immediately, almost dragging the staff out of my hand, but I held on tight and the daemon’s head slid away, its mouth gushing blood.
I followed it through the reeds towards the water’s edge. Once on the riverbank I could see the buggane by the light of the moon. Its body was hidden underwater but its many heads reared and writhed, lunging towards me. I quickly counted to nine, but then gave up because they were moving too quickly. The one nearest me hung limp, dark blood issuing from its gaping mouth and swirling away in the current. That was the one I’d just speared. The Spook was now on the riverbank too, jabbing furiously with his staff. But a there were so many heads, all roaring and howling eerily. How could we deal with them?
‘To me, lad!’ cried the Spook, plunging into the strong river current. ‘Its heart – we need to cut our way to its heart! I’ll go for the body while you tackle the heads!’
I splashed along to his side. The water reached our waists and it was a struggle to stay on our feet. The grey body of the hydra surfaced briefly before submerging again. That sight filled me with hope because it didn’t seem to have the hard defensive scales of a worme and would be vulnerable to our blades. No doubt the daemon had sacrificed that defence in favour of the attacking capability of those many fanged heads. I kept swinging my staff in an arc and jabbing directly at any ravening mouth that came too close.
The Spook began to attack the hydra’s body, driving his staff in deep and leaning against it while I defended us both against those heads with their dangerous teeth.
How long that struggle went on I don’t know. All I remember is the water, dark with blood, and those daemonic heads shining silver in the moonlight as they sought to put an end to us. At one point I was almost overwhelmed – teeth and ravening jaws were all around me – and the Spook had to halt his attack on the body and help me fight off the heads. But then I heard a cry from the bank, and saw Alice standing there, waving the short blade and shouting at the buggane, trying to attract its attention.
Several of its heads immediately lurched towards her. I was afraid for her, but the daemon was distracted and it gave us our chance. Furiously the Spook renewed his attack. Within moments his silver-alloy blade had found the daemon’s heart. There was a blast of foul air, and then water rose up before me in a high wave and I went under, still gripping my staff. Moments later I floated up to the surface.
Eventually the Spook and I dragged ourselves wearily out onto the riverbank. Alice’s face looked full of relief. I stood there beside her, shivering and dripping wet.