The future is never totally fixed. It changes with every decision we make. I’d no intention of doing so, but if I were to take on this girl as my apprentice, would it hasten my death and result in the house being abandoned?
Realizing that we were approaching a wood, I brought my mind back to the present.
“That’s where the beastie lives,” Jenny whispered, indicating the largest tree ahead of us. It was an oak of tremendous girth that must have been at least five hundred years old.
The sun had gone down, and the light was beginning to fail. I experienced no sudden chill that warned me that something from the dark was close, but once again that feeling of being watched came over me—just as it had when I’d awakened suddenly in the night, south of Kirkby Lonsdale.
Could the creature be watching me from its lair? I wondered.
I was dealing with an unknown entity, and anything was possible. I needed to be on my guard. Instinct made me take hold of my chain, but would that even help me here?
According to the girl, this was about the time when the creature usually left its tree. I just hoped we weren’t too late and it hadn’t gone already. I wanted to see it for myself.
I gestured to Jenny, indicating that we should crouch, and we both sank down onto our knees, peering through a thicket of young ash trees. For at least five minutes, nothing happened. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, and I tensed every time some nocturnal creature stirred or rustled.
Then, suddenly, there was silence—that absolute quiet that falls when some dangerous predator approaches. Soon afterward I heard a peculiar noise. It was a sort of slithering sound, as if a snake was coiling itself about a branch. Then there was a harsh rasp, and something was falling fast from one of the topmost branches.
It was almost dark and it was hard to make it out, but then I saw it silhouetted against the sky. The creature reminded me of a very large squirrel with a long tail.
It dropped a long way to the ground, but hardly made a sound when it landed. Then it scampered off, heading north—toward the village.
What now? Should I follow it? By doing so, I might just save someone’s life. But it had moved very fast, and I suspected that it would be hard to track.
“Wait here!” I hissed at Jenny. “If I’m not back within the hour, go home!”
Then, without waiting for a reply, I set off after the creature. It was risky. I might lose its trail; even worse, it might sense that it was being followed, and I’d lose the element of surprise. But I had no choice. My duty was to the people of the County, and I wanted to prevent it from killing again. Within ten minutes, as I feared, I’d lost its trail altogether. I spent another half hour trying in vain to pick it up again. Once more I drew on Mam’s gift to locate the creature, but once more it failed to work.
So, angry and frustrated, I returned to where Jenny was still waiting, and I quickly decided on my next move.
5
Purrai Have No Rights
“I’M going to climb up into that tree and wait for the creature to come back,” I told Jenny.
“Good idea!” she said enthusiastically. “We’ll take it by surprise.”
“I said I, not we! It’s dangerous. I don’t know what we’re up against here.”
“Does that matter?” Jenny asked. “You’ve already told me that an apprenticeship to a spook is dangerous. I might as well start as I mean to go on and get used to it.”
The girl was very argumentative. I wondered how John Gregory would have dealt with her. But I had to make up my own mind now, and I decided that she could be of more use to me outside the tree.
“Listen,” I told her. “Your job is to keep watch here and warn me when the creature returns. Otherwise it might take me by surprise. Can you imitate the hoot of an owl?”
Jenny smiled and gave me a perfect imitation of a barn owl—it was almost too good. I’d heard an owl just minutes earlier. Could I tell her call from the real thing?
“Can you do the cry of a corpse fowl?” I asked.
“No,” she said, “but I can do a pretty good imitation of a nightjar.”
Her cry split the darkness, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.
It was good, but not quite as perfect as her owl. It was just what we needed.
“You do know that a nightjar is just another name for a corpse fowl?” I said.
“Of course I do! Can’t you tell when someone’s joking?”
I sighed. This was going to be hard work. “When the creature comes back, just give two quick calls, then count to three and give another. Can you manage that?”
“Of course I can, but please be careful! I’ve met a couple of other spooks—one in particular was a pig, and the second had hairy ears and a foul temper. If anything were to happen to you, who would train me? They certainly wouldn’t!”
I wondered how Jenny knew these other spooks. Had she been spying on them too? But this was no time to start questioning her further.
“Yes, I’ll take care. You do the same. Stay in hiding and don’t get any closer to the oak than this. Understand? Look after this for me.” I handed her my staff.
She nodded, inspected it, and gave me a grin in return.
I turned and very cautiously began to approach the huge tree.
I made a slow circuit of its trunk, wondering if there might be another way in. It was worth checking, but I knew that I would probably have to climb the tree and search for an entrance higher up. After all, that was where the creature had emerged from earlier.
That’s why I’d left my staff with the girl—it would simply have been an encumbrance. But it left me with fewer weapons at my disposal: my pocketfuls of salt and iron, and my silver chain.
I began to climb.
It took me a long time to locate the entrance to the creature’s lair. I circled the tree at several different levels until at last I found it.
It was well camouflaged. A human would have made such a door square, oblong, oval, or even round. This bark-covered door was difficult to see because of its irregular shape. Once I’d spotted it, I found I could ease the door open with my fingernails. It swung out easily, on hinges that had recently been oiled.
The next problem was its size. The creature was a lot smaller than me. It would be hard for me to squeeze through that doorway, and I realized that once I was inside it would be difficult to get out again in a hurry. But I’d have to deal with whatever came my way. I wriggled through headfirst, pulling myself through the opening with my hands. I was now pretty much trapped. I had to bind this creature and must not miss with the chain. I felt confident that I could do so—that was one skill I was proud of.