His words brought back an image from my recurrent nightmare. Running from the Morrigan, I’d sought refuge in what appeared to be a church. Was it really a sidhe? My dreams were starting to make some kind of sense to me. Was I learning from them, gaining knowledge that might help me in the future? I wondered.
‘You see, that’s what the mages ultimately seek,’ continued Shey. ‘By drawing enough strength from Pan, they hope one day to gain control of the Otherworld – which contains items that could endow them with immense power back here.’
‘What things?’ asked the Spook. ‘Spells? Dark magical power?’
‘Could be,’ said Shey. ‘But also weapons of great potency manufactured by the gods themselves. Some believe that a war-hammer forged by the blacksmith god, Hephaestus, is hidden there. Once thrown, it never misses its target and always returns to its owner’s hand. Doolan, the Butcher, would love to get his hands on something like that!’
The Spook thanked our host for the information, and the topic of conversation changed to farming and hopes for the next potato crop. There had been two bad years of blight: another poor harvest would bring many people close to starvation. I began to feel guilty. We had dined well during our stay in Ireland while, out there, people were going hungry.
We were all tired after the journey and went to bed early. Alice was in the next room, close enough to be protected by the blood jar, the Spook further down the corridor. I was just about to undress and climb into bed when I heard a muffled voice.
I opened the door and peered out. There was nobody there. I stepped through the doorway, heard the voice again, and realized that it was coming from Alice’s room. Who was she talking to? I leaned against her door and listened. It was definitely Alice’s voice, but hers alone. She seemed to be chanting rather than engaged in conversation with someone else.
I eased open her door and crept in, closing it carefully behind me so as not to make a noise. Alice was seated in front of the dressing-table mirror, gazing into it intently. By her side stood a candle.
Suddenly she stopped chanting and I saw that she was mouthing something silently into the mirror. Some witches wrote on mirrors, but the more skilled used lip-reading. She must be trying to reach Grimalkin.
My heart leaped, for instead of Alice’s reflection I could see the outline of a woman’s head in the mirror. From my position by the door I couldn’t make out her features, but for a moment my blood ran cold. However, as I moved closer to this mirror, the chill quickly passed, for now I recognized Grimalkin’s face.
Alice had established contact at last. I was elated, filled with hope. Perhaps the witch assassin would soon come to Ireland and help us to bind the Fiend so that we could finally stop relying on the failing blood jar.
I knew that if she emerged from her trance and found me sitting there, she might get a terrible shock, so I left, shutting the door quietly behind me. Once back in my room, I sat down on the chair and waited for her. I felt certain that she’d soon come and tell me about her conversation with Grimalkin.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting up with a jolt. I’d fallen asleep. It was the middle of the night and my candle had burned low. I was surprised to find that Alice hadn’t paid me a visit, but maybe she’d fallen asleep too. We’d been travelling for two days and were both tired. So I got undressed and climbed into bed.
* * *
A gentle rap on my door awoke me. I sat up. The morning sun was streaming through the curtains. The door opened slightly and I saw that Alice was standing there, smiling at me.
‘Still in bed, sleepy head?’ she said. ‘We’re already late for breakfast. I can hear them talking. Can’t you smell the bacon?’
I smiled back. ‘See you downstairs!’ I said.
It was only when Alice had left and I started to get dressed that I realized she hadn’t mentioned talking to Grimalkin in the mirror. I frowned. Surely it was too important to leave until later, I thought.
For a moment I considered the possibility that I’d just dreamed it, but my master had always stressed the importance of knowing the difference between waking and dreaming. The state in between could sometimes be a problem for spooks; that was when witches and other servants of the dark sometimes tried to influence you for their own ends. It was vital to know which was which. No – I knew it hadn’t been a dream.
I went down to breakfast and was soon tucking into pork sausages and bacon while my master questioned our host further about our enemies, the goat mages.
I was only half listening to what was being said. I wanted to get Alice alone as soon as possible so that I could ask her about last night. Was Grimalkin finally on her way to join us? Would she reach us before the protection of the blood jar failed? Why hadn’t Alice mentioned her conversation to the Spook as well? There was something strange and worrying going on here.
‘I need a bit of air – I’m going for a walk,’ I said, getting to my feet. ‘The dogs could do with some exercise, anyway.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Alice said with a smile. Of course, that’s what I’d planned: she couldn’t afford to be separated from the blood jar.
‘It would be best not to wander too far from the house,’ said Shey. ‘Kenmare is a refuge, but even though I have guards watching the approaches to the town, the area is not entirely safe. Our enemies will almost certainly be watching us.’
‘Aye, lad. Take heed,’ added the Spook. ‘We’re in a land that’s strange to us and we’re dealing with the unknown.’
With a nod of agreement, I left the dining room with Alice. We went to the kennels to collect Claw, Blood and Bone, and were soon passing through the front gate and striding briskly down the slope away from the house. It was a fine sunny morning again, the very best that could be hoped for in late winter, and the dogs raced ahead excitedly, following scents and barking loudly.
Keeping an eye out for anything untoward, we entered a small wood where the ground was still white with frost, and there I paused beneath the bare branches of a sycamore and came directly to the point.
‘I heard you chanting at the mirror last night, Alice. I went into your room and saw you talking to Grimalkin. What did she say? Is she on her way? I’m surprised you haven’t told me about it already …’ I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice.
Alice looked flustered for a moment and bit her lip. ‘Sorry, Tom,’ she said. ‘Was going to tell you but thought it best to wait a while. It ain’t good news.’