A pair of vivid sapphire-blue eyes stared back at me. I saw a girl of about my own age. Her black hair was cut short and she had a small tattoo on her left cheek – that of a bear. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding up her hands towards me. She had been maimed – they were dripping with blood, and the cause was terrible. Where her thumbs should have been there were two gaping wounds.
‘You must be Alice,’ she said. ‘My name is Thorne.’
THORNE WAS THE girl Grimalkin had trained as a witch assassin. We had never met; she had been kept a secret from most people, but I knew all about her, especially how she had died. She had been slain by the servants of the Fiend on the edge of Witch Dell. They had sliced off her thumbs while she still lived, and the shock and loss of blood had killed her.
The eyes that now regarded me with such seriousness were surprisingly gentle. But the lithe body crisscrossed with leather straps containing an assortment of blades marked her as a warrior.
‘Do you know that you’re being followed?’ she asked.
‘Yes. I think it’s the kretch,’ I replied. ‘I used magic to keep it at bay but it won’t hold it for very long.’
That was true. It was beyond death now. How could it be stopped?
As if the creature knew we were discussing it, there came another howl from the darkness, once again a hunting cry; it sounded very close.
‘We must hurry!’ Thorne rose to her feet. ‘Take the candle and follow me!’
I looked beyond her and saw that the cave opened up into a tunnel.
Thorne turned towards it, and I snatched up the candle and jogged after her.
Sometimes the tunnel was so low that we were forced to bow our heads even when crawling on all fours. In one way that made me feel better – for how could the kretch hope to squeeze through such a confined space? But then we would briefly emerge into caverns so vast that the candle could not illuminate the roof. There were ledges far above us, and I sensed malevolent, hostile eyes peering down at us.
‘Whose domain is this?’ I asked, shocked as my voice echoed to fill such vastness.
At my question, Thorne came to a sudden halt and turned to face me, putting her forefinger vertically to her lips to indicate the need for silence. Blood was still dripping from her mutilated hands.
‘We are still in the place between domains, but sometimes the white path gives way to tunnels that are somewhat safer – too small to accommodate anything really big and dangerous.’
‘How big is the kretch, then? Grimalkin told me it was the size of a small horse. Can it follow us here?’
‘It can and will,’ Thorne answered. ‘The laws of size, matter and distance are very different to those back on earth. It might well be catching us now. But there are worse things than its size. It was fathered by Tanaki, one of the hidden daemons that dwell in the abyss. He too may come after us, but fortunately he truly is too large to enter this system of tunnels.’
‘Were you waiting for me?’ I asked her.
Thorne nodded. ‘You have friends here as well as enemies. I will do what I can to help. But why have you come? The living should not enter the dark.’
For a moment I hesitated. Could I trust Thorne? I asked myself. But then I remembered how positively Grimalkin had spoken about her. I had never heard the witch assassin speak of another with such warmth. Also, I had been alone in the dark and had not expected to be helped. My chances of success would be much greater with a brave ally such as Thorne alongside me.
‘I need to find the domain of the Fiend,’ I told her. ‘There’s a dagger under his throne. It can be used as part of a special ritual to finish him off. But what about you, Thorne? How did you know when I would arrive and where to find me?’
‘We’ll talk later, and I’ll tell you some of what I know of the dark,’ Thorne said. ‘There’s a lot for you to learn, but now we need to reach the next domain. With luck it will be the Fiend’s – then you can get what you need and leave this place.’
I would have liked an answer to my question; however, although I had spent time in the dark, it had been as a prisoner; Thorne had survived here. So, for now, it seemed best to accept that she knew more than I did and allow her to lead.
Soon we came to the end of the tunnel system, and the white path once more stretched out into the darkness above the abyss. It looked identical to what we had left behind. For all I knew, we had somehow come about in a circle and returned to the point where I’d first entered the cave.
Thorne led the way onto the path, so I blew out the candle and pushed it into the pocket of my skirt. ‘How long before we reach the next domain?’ I asked.
She shrugged. ‘Everything shifts and moves here. It’s impossible to say. I’ve not been in the dark very long. There are many who are much better at getting about, especially daemons: they can get from point to point almost in the blink of an eye.’
This was a dangerous and scary place. Thorne had found me; if she could do that, then a daemon servant of the Fiend might do likewise. But it was no use dwelling on such possibilities. I had to simply deal with threats as they arose.
As we walked on into the darkness and emptiness, it seemed as if nothing existed except the two of us and the white path; that and the rhythmical crunching of our feet on the stones.
It was difficult to judge the passing of time, so I began to count my steps to try and keep track. I’d almost reached a thousand when we heard the threatening howl of the kretch behind us. It had managed to get through that narrow tunnel!
In response Thorne began to stride out faster. When the sound came again, she broke into a run and I sprinted at her heels.
The howls became more frequent and louder. The creature was catching us. Thorne came to a sudden halt and turned to look back down the path. I followed her gaze: the creature was only just visible, but bounding towards us, getting closer and closer; all too soon I could see it in more detail.
It was as Grimalkin had described – similar to an enormous wolf – but as it drew near, I detected the significant differences. Although it ran on what seemed to be four legs, the front two limbs were like powerful, muscular arms, capable of snapping the bones of an opponent and tearing the flesh into bloody shreds. Its fur was black, but there were flecks of silver-grey on its powerful back. Set into its body were pouches from which the hilts of weapons protruded, but it also had sharp, poisonous claws. One scratch had almost killed Grimalkin, leaving her with recurrent bouts of weakness that made her vulnerable to her enemies.