Alice nodded.
‘Am I right in thinking you’ve put your own blood in it – the blood of a daughter of the Fiend – and the blood of my apprentice, Tom?’
Alice nodded again and bowed her head.
‘Well, lad, I’m finding this hard to believe. You actually gave your own blood for the purposes of a dark magic spell?’
‘No!’ Alice cried defiantly. ‘Ain’t true, that. Tom was unconscious when I took it. Back in Greece, there was a rock-fall in a cave. Knocked out, he was, so I took three drops of his blood and added them to mine in the jar. Tom didn’t even know about it. It was only later, when the Fiend came for him, that I pushed it into his hand. After that Tom had to keep it on him to stop the Fiend coming back and dragging him off to the dark. I have to stay close to Tom as well, else he’ll take his revenge on me!’
‘So tell me what you got for your soul,’ the Spook asked.
I explained how the Fiend had given me three things: the location of our terrible enemy, the Ordeen; a delay of one hour before she awoke; and, finally, the lives of him and Alice, who were facing imminent death.
‘Not only that, he showed me the future,’ I said. ‘Thousands would have been massacred that day – men, women and children. Had the Ordeen won, the County would have been the next place to be destroyed. In the past I’ve resisted the temptations of the dark – even when the lives of my own family were at risk. This time it was the County in danger. And you’ve always taught me that we protect it, and that our first duty is to the County and its people. So in the end that’s why I did it. Not for Alice, not for you – for the County. It seemed worth my soul at the time.’
‘Show me,’ the Spook said quietly.
I reached into my breeches pocket and pulled out the small jar. I held it in my open palm so that he could see it properly.
‘Give it to me,’ my master ordered.
‘It’s dangerous even to let it out of my possession—’
‘Hand it over, lad!’ he commanded angrily, raising his voice.
Nervously I did as he asked. He peered at it closely, and for a moment his fingers gripped the stopper. One twist and it would be open, and he could pour away the drops of blood. My heart was in my mouth.
‘What if I were to smash this now, or drain it of its contents?’ he asked me. ‘Could the girl make another?’
‘Ain’t possible to make another to save Tom,’ said Alice. ‘You can only use a spell like that once.’
‘And it would be the end of me and Alice,’ I added. ‘The Fiend would come for us. We’d be dead and our souls dragged off to the dark. You too probably – he wouldn’t spare the life of a spook.’
‘Don’t try to scare me, lad. I’ll do what’s right, whatever the cost.’
‘I wasn’t trying to scare you. Just telling you how things are. I’ve thought about it a lot,’ I retorted.
‘Would he come right away?’ asked the Spook, looking thoughtful. ‘Tell me that, girl. You made it, so you should know. I’ve never encountered this type of jar before.’
‘Could be here in the blink of an eye,’ Alice told him.
‘What a miserable existence you’ve got ahead of you,’ said the Spook, shaking his head. ‘Living in fear with just this little jar standing between you and a terrible fate. Then, when you die, which is inevitable, the Fiend will be waiting for you. He’ll collect your soul the minute you draw your last breath.’
‘Not if Tom manages to bind or destroy him first—’
‘And how on earth is he going to manage that?’ demanded the Spook.
Alice shrugged. ‘Tom’s mam believed he would do it one day—’
‘Did she ever say how it could be done?’
‘Perhaps the secret is buried amongst her papers and notebooks in Malkin Tower,’ I suggested.
‘Well, lad, that might be so, but the last time I was there I found nothing like that. And Malkin Tower is a long way from here, across the sea and now behind enemy lines. I can’t help thinking that if your mam really had known how to bind or destroy the Fiend, she’d have told you before we went to Greece. After all, as her letters told us, she thought she’d have to sacrifice her own life to defeat her enemy. No, I think she hoped that you might discover a way to do it yourself.’
There was a long silence, and I thought about what I’d seen within myself: maybe that would help me to find a way …
Then Alice spoke up. ‘I can think of someone who might know – someone who’s thought about it long and hard: Grimalkin …’
‘The witch assassin?’ My master scratched at his beard in irritation. ‘It just gets worse!’
‘She once told me how much she hates the Fiend. She said she thought he could be bound with silver spears,’ Alice went on.
‘What? Bound in a pit?’
‘He’d be impaled on the spears,’ she explained. ‘Then maybe you could bury him beneath a stone like you do with boggarts. Wouldn’t that work?’
‘Maybe, girl. When a daemon such as a buggane or the Bane takes material form and you pierce its heart, it’s usually destroyed. I can’t see that being enough to finish off the Fiend – he’s much too powerful. In any case, where would we get silver-alloy spears from?’ asked the Spook, shaking his head.
‘Grimalkin would make them. She’s a skilled black-smith. We should send for her; bring her here.’
‘You’d use a mirror, no doubt,’ said the Spook, his face grim. ‘More dark magic …’
‘What’s done is done,’ Alice snapped, ‘but the main thing is to keep Tom safe. And Grimalkin’s resourceful. War or no war, she would find a way to get here.’
‘I need time to think this through,’ said the Spook, handing the jar back to me. ‘Get out of my sight for a while – both of you!’
I nodded and we wandered slowly off into the trees, Alice still limping badly. I was relieved to have the blood jar back in my pocket. For a long time Alice was silent, her lips pressed tightly together, her face a mask. Then she began to cry, great sobs racking her body. I put my arms around her, offering comfort as best I could.
‘Ain’t crying for Lizzie,’ Alice said at last as her grief began to subside. ‘Not even crying for poor Adriana and Simon, although I’m sorry that they lost their lives like that and can never enjoy the happiness they deserved. No, I’m crying for what I never had. Crying for the mam every girl should have – someone who’d have loved me and cared what happened to me.’