Just as a horse can be hobbled, having its legs tied together so it can't wander too far, the Fiend had been hobbled by someone in the past; his power limited. If he chose to kill me himself, he would rule the world for only a hundred years, a span that he would consider far too short. So, according to the rules of the hobble, he had one choice: get one of his own children to kill me, or try to win me to his side. If he could manage to convert me to the dark, he'd rule the world until its very end. That's what he'd tried to do the last time we met. Of course, if I died by some other hand – that of the maenad, for example – then the Fiend might slowly come to dominate the world anyway. So had he sent her?
The Spook was looking thoughtful. 'The Fiend? It's a possibility, lad. We must be on our guard. You were lucky to survive that attack.'
I almost reminded him that it was the intervention of Alice rather than luck but thought better of it. It had been a hard night and nothing would be gained by annoying him.
The following night I found it hard to sleep and after a while I got out of bed, lit my candle and started to re-read Mam's letter, which I'd received in the spring.
Dear Tom,
The struggle against the dark in my own land has been long and hard and is approaching a crisis. However, we two have much to discuss and I do have further things to reveal and a request to make. I need something from you. That and your help. Were there any way at all to avoid this, I would not ask it of you. But these are words that must be said face to face, not in a letter, and so I intend to return home for a short visit on the eve of midsummer.
I have written to Jack to inform him of my arrival so I look forward to seeing you at the farm at the appointed time. Work hard at your lessons, son, and be optimistic, no matter how dark the future seems. Your strength is greater than you realize.
Love,
Mam
In less than a week it would be midsummer and the Spook and I would be travelling south to visit my brother Jack's farm and meet Mam. I had missed her and couldn't wait to see her. But I was also anxious to find out what she wanted from me.
Chapter 2
THE SPOOK'S BESTIARY
The following morning it was lessons as usual. I was in the third year of my apprenticeship to my master and was studying how to fight the dark: in the first year I'd learned about boggarts, in the second, witches; now my topic was 'The History of the Dark'.
'Well, lad, prepare to take notes,' commanded the Spook, scratching at his beard.
I opened my notebook, dipped my pen into the bottle of ink and waited for him to begin the lesson. I was sitting on the bench in the western garden. It was a sunny summer's morning and there wasn't a single cloud in the wide blue sky. Directly in front of us were the fells, dotted with sheep, while all around we heard birdsong and the pleasant drowsy hum of insects.
'As I've already told you, lad, the dark manifests itself in different ways at different times and different places,' said the Spook, beginning to pace up and down in front of the bench. 'But, as we know to our cost, the most formidable aspect of the dark in the County and in the wider world beyond is the Fiend.'
My heart lurched and I had a lump in my throat as I remembered our last encounter. The Fiend had revealed a terrible secret to me. He had claimed that Alice was also his daughter – the Devil's daughter. It was difficult to imagine, but what if it was true? Alice was my closest friend and had saved my life on more than one occasion. If what the Fiend had told me really was true, it would mean that the Spook had been right to banish her: we could never be together again – the thought of it was almost impossible to bear.
'But although the Fiend is our biggest concern,' continued the Spook, 'there are other denizens of the dark who, with assistance from witches, mages or other meddling humans, are also able to pass through portals into our world. Numbered amongst them are the Old Gods such as Golgoth, whom you'll remember we dealt with on Anglezarke Moor.'
I nodded. That had been a close-run thing and had nearly cost me my life.
'We must be grateful that he's sleeping once more,' said my master, 'but others are very much awake. Take your mam's homeland, Greece. As I told you yesterday, a fierce female deity called the Ordeen, who is worshipped by the maenads, has caused bloodshed there on a vast scale since time immemorial. No doubt she's at the heart of all that your mam's trying to contend with.
'There's not a lot I know about the Ordeen. But apparently she arrives with her followers, who kill everything that moves for miles around. And the maenads, who are usually scattered across Greece, gather in large numbers to await her arrival. They're like vultures ready to feast upon the flesh of the dead and the dying. For them it's a harvest, a time of plenty, the reward they receive for their worship of the Ordeen and her followers. No doubt your mam will have lots more to tell us – there are blank pages in my Bestiary that need to be filled.'
The Spook's Bestiary, one of the biggest and most interesting books in his library, was full of all manner of terrible creatures. But there were gaps where information was scarce and he updated it whenever he could.
'I do know, however, that unlike the other Old Gods, the Ordeen doesn't need human assistance to pass through a portal into this world. Even the Fiend needed the help of the Pendle witches. But it seems that she can pass through her portal at will – and also return when she pleases.'
'The "followers" who arrive with her through the portal – what are they like?' I asked.
'They are denizens of the dark: daemons and elementals. The daemons mostly have the appearance of men or women but possess terrible strength and are very cruel. In addition there are the vaengir – flying lamia witches. So many have now joined her that only a few remain elsewhere – they live alone or in pairs like your mam's sisters. Imagine what it must be like when the Ordeen arrives – a host of those creatures swooping down from the sky to rend and tear the flesh of their victims! It doesn't bear thinking about, lad!'
It certainly didn't. Mam's two sisters were flying lamias. They'd fought on our side during the battle on Pendle hill, wreaking havoc on the three witch clans who opposed us.
'Aye, it's a dangerous place, Greece. Your mam has much to contend with . . . There are also feral lamia witches – the ones who scuttle about on four limbs.
They're very common in Greece, especially in the mountains. After this lesson's over I suggest you go up to the library, look them up in my Bestiary, revise your knowledge of them and enter a summary of what you find in your notebook.'