I had another way out of the cell; one other item in my pocket that might prove useful – my special key. It had been crafted by the Spook’s brother, Andrew, and could open most locks. Not that I’d be in a rush to use it. I could probably get out of the cell easily enough, but then there was both an inner and an outer portcullis controlling access to the keep. The mechanisms to raise them would be guarded, so escape from the keep seemed out of the question.
Of course, there were other cells nearby, and one of them might hold Adriana. If they caught the Spook, they might bring him here too – but I’d probably hear them in the passageway outside, so it was best to bide my time. Several of us working together would have a better chance of getting out.
I waited for long time but heard nothing. Surely, if they’d caught the Spook, he’d have been brought here by now? Perhaps he’d managed to escape? Eventually I blew out the candle to save it for future use, then curled myself up into a ball on the earth floor and tried to sleep. It was cold and damp, and soon I began to shiver. I was aching all over and covered in bruises from the beating I’d suffered. There was no Alice here to offer relief from pain with her herbs – only time would heal me.
Several times I dozed off, only to wake up with a jerk. But the final time I awoke, it was for reasons other than cold and discomfort.
I could hear the patter of earth falling onto the floor. Someone or something was emerging from the tunnel …
Iopened my tinderbox, and despite the trembling of my hands managed to light the candle stub. I stared at the earthen wall in horror. A hairy head, arms and upper torso were visible at the entrance of the tunnel and the creature was looking directly towards me. It was huge.
My worst fears were realized: it was the buggane, once again in the shape of the Cruncher. The daemon was squat and bulky, with virtually no neck, its front limbs ending in broad claws clearly shaped for burrowing. Its massive body was covered in long black hair which shone in the candlelight as if slick with oil. At close quarters, the most striking thing about it was its face. It had the large, close-set staring eyes of a cruel predator, but when its gaze turned towards the candle, the lids narrowed into a squint. In this form the buggane had created and now inhabited a labyrinth of dark tunnels. I wondered if the light bothered it?
The creature had a slimy wet quivering snout, from which drops of moisture fell and splattered on the floor; it suddenly growled low in its throat and opened its mouth to reveal teeth that looked capable of biting off an arm, a leg or even a head. It had a double row of teeth: those at the front were sharp and triangular like the teeth of a wood-saw; those to the rear were broad, like human ones, but far larger – molars shaped for grinding and chewing. No wonder they called it the Cruncher.
But why was it visiting me like this? Wasn’t it supposed to approach in its spirit form and whisper as it drew out my life essence? I slipped my left hand into my pocket and readied my silver chain. I wondered if the chain would hold it – and, if so, for how long? My staff had been taken by my captors. I had nothing with me that could kill it.
The buggane pulled itself into the cell and moved towards me on all fours, panting like a dog. It was maybe twice the size of a fully grown man. How had it fitted into the tunnel? I saw now that its fur was shining with beads of water. Luckily it didn’t come too close but I could still smell its foul breath, making me retch. As I struggled to hold down the contents of my stomach, it began to circle me slowly, still on all fours, and as it did so, the panting gave way to a deliberate sniffing. Was it about to attack? I wondered. If so, what was it waiting for? Or was it like a witch, short-sniffing, trying to find things out about me?
I turned slowly on my knees so that I was always facing towards it as it circled menacingly. The candle was dancing in my trembling hand, and at one point, unintentionally, I jerked the flame towards the creature. It seemed to flinch, its eyes narrowing again – or had I just imagined it?
Most denizens of the dark both feared and avoided daylight but were not usually troubled by the light of a fire or a candle. In its present form the buggane was certainly bothered by the candlelight. But how would it cope with fire? Would a torch be a real threat to it? I tried moving the candle towards its face. It retreated and gave a threatening growl, so low that it seemed to come from deep within its belly. Next it showed me its sharp teeth and I immediately moved the candle back again.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you!’ warned a deep voice from the tunnel entrance. ‘One bite and he’d have your arm off. Or maybe your head – that would make a good mouthful.’
It was the abhuman, Horn: he was staring at me and shaking his head.
I turned my gaze back to the buggane. Having completed a full circle, it was surely planning to attack now. I waited tensely, mouth dry with fear, left hand still gripping my silver chain. But to my surprise the creature crawled back towards the wall of earth. It halted beside Horn, who began to pat its forehead, then whispered something into its ear before moving aside. The daemon squeezed its bulk into the tunnel. For a while I could hear it scuffling and grunting as it made its way along. Then the sounds faded away altogether.
Horn was still gazing at me. ‘He wants you, boy. Knows what you are – a seventh son of a seventh son. Likes the smell of your blood and would love to eat your flesh and crunch your bones. I’ve rarely seen him so eager!’
Then he turned and followed the buggane into the tunnel. I waited until the noise of his departure faded away into absolute silence. Only then did I rise to my feet and approach the tunnel entrance. I held up my candle and peered inside. It still seemed to come to a dead end. So where had the buggane and Horn gone? Had the creature filled the tunnel in behind them? It didn’t seem possible – I was facing what looked like solid earth.
I was nervous but curious. I listened. There wasn’t the faintest sound. Was it waiting for me in the darkness ness somewhere ahead? Common sense told me that if it had wanted to harm me, it could easily have done so in the cell. So, holding the candle in my right hand, I scrambled into the tunnel and began to crawl forward. As soon as I reached what, from the cell, had appeared to be a dead end, I saw that the tunnel angled off at ninety degrees to my left. It ran parallel to the other cells: that was what the earthen wall was for – so that the buggane could reach its victims in its physical form. No doubt each cell had a short tunnel connecting it to this one.