Not long before he died, Dad had told me the story of how he met Mam. He was originally a sailor, and while ashore in Greece, he'd found her bound naked to a rock with a silver chain. He'd protected her from the sun – otherwise she'd have died. Then he'd released her from the rock and they'd stayed together in this house before returning to the County to be married. The silver chain that had constrained her was the one I now used to bind malevolent witches.
She nodded. 'Yes, it's my house – I wanted you to see it, but I really brought you here so that we could be alone together without any chance of being disturbed. You see, there's something else you need to know, son,' she continued. 'We might not get a chance to talk alone again . . . This is very hard for me . . . but I need to tell you what I am.'
'What you are, Mam?' I said, my heart hammering in my chest. I'd waited a long time to find this out, but now, with the truth finally about to be revealed, I was scared.
Mam took a deep breath and it was a long time before she spoke. 'I'm not human, Tom. I never was—'
'It doesn't matter, Mam. I know what you are. I worked it out ages ago. You're a lamia witch, like your sisters. One of the vaengir; those who fly. But you've been "domestic" for a long time. And you're benign . . .'
'Well, I suppose I expected you to put two and two together and come up with that, but unfortunately you're mistaken. I only wish you were right—'
'Then you must be a hybrid,' I interrupted.
'No, Tom, I'm not a hybrid. What I am is far worse than anything you can possibly have imagined—'
Mam halted and turned to face me, her eyes glistening with tears. My heart pounded even faster. I couldn't imagine what she was going to say. Whatever it was, it had to be bad.
'You see, son,' she continued, 'I am Lamia. The very first . . .'
I caught my breath, my head spinning. I'd heard her words but they didn't make any sense. 'What do you mean, Mam? I know you're a lamia. You're domestic and benign—'
'Listen carefully to what I'm saying, son. I am the Lamia. The mother of them all . . .'
My chest began to hurt as what Mam had just told me began to sink in. 'No, Mam! No! That can't be true!' I exclaimed, remembering what had been written in the Spook's Bestiary. That Lamia's first children had been killed by the goddess Hera and that her revenge had been terrible. She'd killed children. Then young men. Taken lives beyond counting.
'I can tell by your face that you know what I've done. You know my crimes, don't you? All I can say in mitigation is that I was driven mad by the loss of my own children. I murdered innocents, and for that I can never forgive myself. But I turned to the light at last and have spent my long life trying to compensate in some way for what I did.'
'But you can't be Lamia, Mam! It says in the Spook's Bestiary that she was killed by three of her own children, the first lamia witches. They tore her to pieces and fed her to a herd of wild boar. So you can't be her. She's dead.'
'Don't believe everything you read in books, son,' Mam said. 'Much history is passed down by word of mouth and only written up many years later, when the truth has been distorted and embellished. It's certainly true that I later gave birth to triplets, the first lamia witches. It is also true that we quarrelled. But we never fought physically. Although their words cut me to the quick, they never raised a finger against me. It pained me, but our family couldn't stay together. They are dead now, but their feral children live on to infest the land of Greece and make its mountain passes more dangerous than anywhere else on earth. That is the truth.'
A thought struck me. 'But you have feral lamia sisters, Mam. And Lamia didn't have sisters. She was the first. The very first lamia. As you said, the mother of them all—'
'I call them sisters, Tom, and that's what they are to me because we were companions and joint enemies of the Ordeen and the Fiend for many years, long before I journeyed to the County with your dad. But they are really my descendants; children of my children's children many times removed. In spirit, though, they are my sisters. That's how I see them.'
I couldn't think straight; didn't know what to say. Suddenly the tears were streaming down my cheeks. Embarrassed, I tried to brush them away. Mam leaned across and put her arm around my shoulders.
'It happened a long time ago, son. Anyone who lives that long is no longer the same being. You evolve and change. Become someone else. That's a truth well worth knowing, for it is exactly what has happened to me. I've little in common with the Lamia who slew so many; I have now served the light for many years. I married your father so that I could bear him seven sons. I bore you as my gift to the County. More than that – my gift to the world. For it is in you to destroy the Fiend and begin a new age of light. When you do that, my penance will be completed. I will have made full restitution for my terrible crimes.
'I know this is really hard for you to take in, but try to be brave and remember that you're more than just a weapon to use against the dark. You're my son and I love you, Tom. Believe that, whatever happens.'
I couldn't think of anything to say and we walked back into the house in silence. Mam locked the door and we strode out towards the wagon. She paused briefly and looked back.
'I won't come here again,' she said sadly. 'The memories of your dad are so sharp that it's like being bereaved for a second time.'
During the ride back to the ship, I tried to digest what Mam had said. I had been told a terrible truth. One that was almost impossible to bear.
Chapter 10
A DELEGATION OF THIRTEEN
When I climbed out of my hammock at dawn, there were five more wagons waiting on the quay. Alice was down there on the edge of a group of Pendle witches – those from the Deane clan. She looked lost and unhappy, but when I walked down the gangplank her face brightened and she hastened towards me.
'What's up, Tom?' she asked. 'Where did you go with your mam yesterday? Had bad news? You don't look happy at all . . .'
'Then that's two of us that look unhappy,' I told her.
Without another word we began to walk away from the boat and out of earshot of the others. Alice stood and waited expectantly, but I couldn't bring myself to tell her who Mam was. It was bad enough knowing it myself. I felt hurt and ashamed of what she'd once been.