I knew the name. Browne was mentioned by John Gregory in an annotation marked in his Bestiary; Nicholas was his source of information on the Kobalos.
“Where did you find this document?” I asked.
“I came across it when searching for information in the northern lands that border the Kobalos territories. They make a study of their ancient enemy and keep their own archives. This is the most succinct and useful description of the Kobalos and their practices that I have ever encountered. It is a good place to start; we can add to it as we learn more.”
I noted that she had said “we” rather than “I.” It seemed that she took for granted that I would be joining her in her enterprise.
I picked up the envelope, but Grimalkin shook her head. “There will be time enough to study that later. Let us go and see this creature’s lair.”
I didn’t bother to take my staff. With Grimalkin by my side, I knew I wouldn’t need it. Instead I collected a spade from the lean-to and carried it resting against my shoulder.
As we walked, I told her in more detail what had happened: how three County girls had died, how Jenny had told me of the beast’s whereabouts. Then how, after we had been taken prisoner, I’d run back to get the sword and returned in time to save her. But I didn’t mention taking Jenny on as my apprentice or that she’d fled from the haunted house at Horshaw. It wasn’t relevant to the business at hand.
At last we reached the huge oak tree. We heard the flies before we saw them. And there were even more inside the trunk—big buzzing bluebottles, most of them crawling upon the dead body of the beast; the face was already writhing with maggots. The stench was so appalling we had to cover our noses with our hands.
Grimalkin muttered something under her breath, and the buzzing ceased. I heard the ping of flies falling to the floor, slain by her magic. Then she brushed the dead flies and maggots off the creature’s face and stared at it for a long time.
“What do you think I should do if I encounter another of these creatures?” I said, interrupting the silence. “If I captured one alive, could it be contained within a pit like a witch?”
“It would be safe enough if you cut out its tongue and stitched its lips together for good measure,” said the witch assassin, “but my advice to you is never to take such a chance. Kill it at the first opportunity. These creatures have powerful magic—some, such as shifting size, are innate and do not even require a dark spell. They can breathe into your face and render you unconscious or take away your will.”
“As I know, to my cost,” I said ruefully.
“This is a rare and special type of Kobalos mage—a haizda,” Grimalkin continued. “I met one when I traveled north. I suspect this creature is only young, hardly past its novitiate, the early stage of its training. But never underestimate them. They are very dangerous. The one I met called itself Slither and was a formidable warrior. You would not have slain it so easily. In fact, I doubt you would have survived such an encounter.”
I felt a flicker of annoyance at that.
With one hand, Grimalkin seized the dead Kobalos mage by the left foot, her other holding its head by the hair; she dragged it out of its lair and into the open, and I followed behind.
“This is as good a place as any,” she decided, letting go of the beast about eighty feet away from the tree, clear of most of the roots.
“You dig the grave and I’ll start my search,” she said. “Drag the beast into the pit, but don’t cover it with soil yet.”
“Are you looking for anything special?”
“I’m seeking to learn all I can about our enemies.”
12
Nicholas Browne’s Glossary
WHEN I’d dug the grave and dragged the mage into it, I leaned my spade against the tree trunk and went inside. Grimalkin had pried the lid from one of the jars and was sniffing the contents. It contained a light green slime flecked with small gray particles.
“Found anything interesting?” I asked.
“There is much here that is outside my knowledge. For example, I suspect that this green gel is some kind of preservative. Within it are small pieces of living tissue, but from a creature I have never encountered. What its purpose is, I have no idea. . . . I’d planned to travel north again tomorrow, but this is a treasure trove. I will stay here until I have learned all I can—days, or even weeks, if necessary.”
I nodded. “After I’ve filled in the grave, I’ll get back to the house and leave you to it. If you ever want to eat a meal at my table, you’re more than welcome. In any case, please call in before you go. I’d like to know something of what you learn.”
“Leave the grave to me,” answered Grimalkin. “I want a closer look at the body before it’s buried. As for what I discover, I will tell you all you need to know. You may be reticent in combining forces to meet an anticipated Kobalos attack, but by presenting this to me you have advanced our cause significantly.”
“Who are your allies?” I asked.
“Witches from Pendle will eventually join with me to face the threat that I have scryed. The people far to the north across the sea have faced the Kobalos in battle before; they will be our allies. We have now reached a crisis. The birth of the Kobalos god, Talkus, has already taken place, increasing the power of their mages threefold and triggering war. Soon they will burst out of their city, Valkarky, and make war on all humans, starting with those who border the Kobalos lands.”
“Do you think this mage was a spy?” I asked, nodding down at the body.
“It is more than likely,” Grimalkin said. “The haizda mages usually live alone, far from other Kobalos, but I wouldn’t have expected to find one this far south.”
With that, we parted company, and I headed back toward Chipenden. But one of Grimalkin’s remarks had been interesting, to say the least.
“All you need to know . . .”
It implied that she might well withhold other information. Why? Because it was knowledge of dark magic that she would use to add to her own strength? We had been close allies once, but by failing to join her quest to destroy the Kobalos last year, I had created a gulf between us. I had to remind myself that, after all, she was a witch; in spite of our past, we were not natural allies.
I had another disquieting thought. Grimalkin had visited the Kobalos city, Valkarky, and knew a good deal about the enemy. . . . Had I perhaps withdrawn from the coming confrontation a little too easily? I was the Chipenden Spook, after all.