‘Well, that makes my mind up for me,’ said the Spook. ‘We need to help those people. I serve the County and its inhabitants, whether at home or abroad. It’s my duty.’
‘So we’re going to try and rescue them from the dungeons?’ I asked.
‘Maybe we will in time, lad, although at present I can’t see how. No, we’re going to make them safe from the dark in another way. We’re not going to the keep. If the ruined chapel is where the buggane is to be found, that’s where we’re going!’
After supper we sat around the embers of the fire and continued to discuss what we faced. The sun had gone down and the stars were starting to appear overhead. There was no wind and the wood was very quiet. The loudest sound was the panting of the dogs.
‘Just how dangerous is a buggane?’ Captain Baines asked.
‘Well, you might as well all know the worst,’ the Spook replied. ‘And you get your notebook out, lad, and jot down some of what I say. There are a few things that needed adding to my Bestiary so you don’t know it all. This is all part of your training …’
He waited while I got the bottle of ink, pen and notebook out of my bag, then he began.
‘Abuggane is a daemon that usually lurks near a ruin,’ the Spook began, ‘but it can roam quite a distance from this central point. They’re immune to salt and iron, which makes them hard to deal with – though they’re vulnerable to a silver-alloy blade. You have to thrust it into the heart of the creature when it’s fully materialized. The good news is that we spooks have such a blade …’
By way of demonstration, he reached across for his staff, and pressed the recessed switch so that the blade emerged with a click.
‘As my apprentice already knows, they usually confine themselves to two shapes – a black bull and a huge hairy man.’
‘What’s the main threat when it’s in the form of a bull?’ I asked.
‘It bellows loudly and the sound draws upon the dark energy at its disposal. It often fills its victims with such dread that they’re unable to move. Then it charges, goring and trampling anything in its path.’
The Spook fell silent and seemed deep in thought. After a while I prompted him: ‘What about the hairy man? They call it the Cruncher here.’
‘That’s an apt name for it, lad. The buggane takes on that shape to dig its tunnels. Its sharp claws and teeth can chomp through tree trunks or roots that it finds in its path. I’ve just been searching my memory for any snippets of information … That’s why the burning of my library is such a tremendous loss. There are things that only exist in my head now, and when I die, they’re gone for ever …’
‘Then you need to write ’em down again, Mr Gregory. Soon as possible,’ Alice told him.
‘Aye, you’re right, girl,’ the Spook acknowledged. ‘Just as soon as I get the chance, I’ll do exactly that.’ He sighed, then continued staring into space as he pulled the details from his memory. ‘The buggane does its most deadly work in its invisible, spirit form—’
‘It’s worse than just dying!’ Simon interrupted, his voice full of emotion as he thought of the fate that awaited Adriana. ‘The buggane sucks the victim’s soul right out of its body!’
The Spook shook his head. ‘No, that’s not so – even though it’s what most people believe. The soul survives and moves on. What the buggane sucks out is the animus, or life force, which is quite a different thing. It feeds on the energy that gives a body and mind strength; it consumes its vitality so that it dies. It’s just that the mind dies first, and that’s why the person seems to be just an empty vessel.
‘There are mages known as shamans who practise the same sort of magic, which we call animism. A buggane may gain strength from an alliance with a shaman: in return for human sacrifices it will destroy an enemy or share its store of animas with the mage.
‘And that’s what I fear most – that we may not just be dealing with a buggane alone. There may be a dark shaman involved. Let’s face it, in supposedly dealing with the dark – testing and killing falsely accused witches – the dark itself is being used: not only the buggane, but also an abhuman. So tell me, Simon, when did all this start?’
‘Well over twenty-five years ago, before I was born, a witch landed on our western shore in company with that abhuman. Turned out it was her son. She was fed to the buggane and he was imprisoned and used to hunt down other witches. Potential witches have always been tested using spiked barrels, but the guilty were formerly burned at the stake. They’ve always picked on foreigners – immigrants who’ve come ashore and tried to make this their home. Adriana is one of the first to be accused from among our own people …’
At that point Simon’s voice failed him and he choked back a sob. The Spook waited patiently for him to regain his composure before questioning him further.
‘I know this is hard, Simon, but anything you can tell me will give us a chance of dealing successfully with what we face. You say “they”, but who’s behind it all? Who’s in charge of what goes on?’
‘The head of the Ruling Council is Lord Barrule of Greeba Keep, the one who condemned Adriana. It was his decision to let the abhuman live and use him to search for witches. He also said that nothing could be done about the buggane; however, feeding it witches, rather than burning them, would keep it quiet, and our own folk safer.’
‘Then he could well be the dark shaman,’ said the Spook. ‘It couldn’t be worse – he’s a man of power and influence. But if we can destroy the buggane, that’ll undermine him. What sort of a man is he?’
‘“Cruel” is the word that best sums him up,’ Simon replied. ‘He’s a man who likes to get his own way – and he’s a big gambler. There are all sorts of tales about gambling parties in the keep. They often bet on fights between dogs. They say Barrule once had a bear shipped in and made it fight a pack of wolves.’
We all fell silent on hearing that. I hate cruelty to animals, and I was thinking of Claw and her pups being in that situation.
‘It must be terrible when the buggane approaches in its spirit form,’ I said at last.
‘In the open, your only hope is to get away from it just as fast as you can,’ the Spook told me. ‘Trapped close to one, you have no chance at all, lad. It whispers to its victims in a sinister human voice until they see images in their heads – pictures of the very worst things they’ve experienced or done during their lives. The daemon is sadistic – it loves to inflict pain – and it forces them to re-live those events over and over again.