The Doomspell

by Cliff McNish

  ‘Dark girl she will be,

  Fair hearts broken,

  Ancient wrath awoken,

  Children unborn,

  Wizards under lawn,

  Darkness without dawn.’

  As Eric finished all the Sarren covered their ears, howling with pain.

  ‘What does it mean?’ Rachel asked, bewildered.

  ‘It means this,’ Eric said under his breath. ‘Fair hearts broken, children unborn, Wizards under lawn, darkness without dawn. Dragwena’s going to kill all the children and the Wizards, just like she told Rachel.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us this before?’ said Rachel. ‘Something this important—’

  ‘I didn’t know the words, until just now,’ Eric protested feebly. ‘Don’t ask me why!’

  ‘It’s me, isn’t it?’ Rachel said. ‘Dragwena needs me to fulfil the dark verse. She needs my power. And if she turns me into a Witch I’ll help her do all these terrible things. I am the child-hope or . . . the end of all hope.’

  Morpeth and Trimak looked at the floor, unable to meet Rachel’s gaze.

  ‘You don’t know anything, do you?’ she said, hardly able to contain her frustration. ‘You expect me to know! Are we just going to wait for Dragwena to come and get us? I’m sick of it, hiding and running away. There must be something we can do. How long will it take Dragwena to find us?’

  ‘Weeks perhaps,’ Trimak said. ‘Days more likely. The Witch may already know we are here.’

  Rachel pulled Eric towards her. ‘What are we going to do?’

  Eric started to cry, big tears tumbling down his cheeks. ‘Rachel, I don’t know. You’ll think of something. The Witch hasn’t got you yet.’

  And then Rachel heard someone laugh.

  The voice was not human. Rachel recognized it instantly:

  Dragwena.

  17

  Teeth

  Rachel glanced wildly round the cave.

  ‘I am not in this dingy pit,’ Dragwena’s voice scoffed.

  Rachel thought, ‘Then – where?’

  ‘Within you, child.’

  A thumping terror shuddered through Rachel. ‘H-how can you be?’

  ‘Look at your hand?’

  Rachel opened her fingers. The five-pointed star of the Witch-mark, now thickly black, blazed on her palm.

  ‘I am finishing the task interrupted by the Sarren in the eye-tower,’ Dragwena explained. ‘The wound I gave you then went deep. The transformation to Witch will be painless and swift now. Already your blood is thinning, altering in colour. Finally it will be vibrant emerald, too bright for your human eyes to bear. But by then your eyes will no longer be human, either . . .’

  Rachel tore at the Witch-mark with her nails. The blood that poured out was yellow. Her mind shrieked: ‘What have you done to me? This can’t be happening?’

  ‘Your friends in the caves will certainly get a shock,’ Dragwena laughed. ‘They think you are the child-hope to guide them home. What a surprise they will get when four Witch jaws thrust from your face, crawling with spiders.’

  Rachel felt her mouth. She noticed a solid hard mass burgeoning under the flesh of both cheeks.

  ‘In a few hours the change will be complete,’ Dragwena told her. ‘You will no longer need sleep. Your eyelids will dissolve. Your nostrils will split and fold into sensitive flaps of skin, revealing extraordinary new scents. You will enjoy all this, I promise.’

  Rachel closed her eyes tightly, desperate to block out the voice.

  ‘That will not work,’ Dragwena said. I can now read your every thought, know your fears and hopes. There can be no escape. Do not struggle. Give yourself up to me willingly.’

  Rachel’s entire body convulsed with fear. She gazed desperately around for help, stumbled and fell on the cave floor.

  ‘Rachel, what is it?’ said Morpeth, rushing to pick her up.

  Eric walked across the room and did something he had not done since he had been little more than a baby – he put his arms around Rachel’s neck. He squeezed her tightly, and Rachel sobbed into his embrace, wave on bursting wave of tears.

  ‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘Dragwena’s inside you, isn’t she?’

  Rachel buried herself in his shoulder, too despondent to answer.

  Morpeth stared at Eric. ‘How do you know what is happening? How can you possibly know?’

  ‘I just know. Rachel needs to be alone.’

  Morpeth lifted Rachel and carried her from the cave to a small chamber where there was some privacy. Eric held her hand tightly all the way, encouraging her with bright little smiles, not in the least embarrassed. Rachel knew Eric never normally behaved like this. Did it mean she could no longer survive without his help?

  Morpeth placed her gently on the floor, wiping away her tears. ‘There,’ he murmured, lifting her chin. ‘We are alone, you and I and Eric.’

  ‘Not alone,’ she said. ‘Dragwena is in me. She knows everything I know.’

  ‘What should we do?’ Morpeth asked. He asked Rachel, but he also turned to Eric, and it was Eric who answered.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Eric, ‘but I think that if the Witch can get inside her head, then Rachel might be able to get inside Dragwena too.’ He gripped Rachel’s shoulders. ‘Try, Rachel. Go on. Find out things about the Witch.’

  Rachel nodded bleakly. Clutching Eric’s hand she made herself relax. She closed her eyes, clearing her mind. And then slowly, hesitantly, with the utmost care, she began to probe. She reached down until she touched another presence – a presence burning with its own ancient, ancient desires: Dragwena.

  ‘Look long and well,’ Dragwena whispered. ‘I have yearned for this moment, child. I would have preferred to have caught you before you reached Latnap Deep, but that is no longer important. It is so long since I could openly read another’s thoughts like this. Only Witches have this gift. We began to talk this way in the eye-tower. Now it is much easier. So you see we will soon be Witches together. I need have no secrets from you now. Look further.’

  Dragwena’s mind spread wide in invitation, and Rachel streaked through the dark secrets of her memory. She experienced sensations that brought Dragwena comfort – the caress of her soul-snake; the joy of riding within a storm-whirl at the edge of the world, the spiders hiding within the safety of her throat. And wolves. Rachel felt what it was like for Dragwena to be amongst the pack: the smell of wolves together on the hunt, and the Witch belly-close beside them, running everywhere and nowhere, following the chase wherever it led.

  ‘Go deeper,’ Dragwena urged.

  Rachel did. She witnessed the Witch on a long search. Amongst the Ragged Mountains of Ithrea Dragwena flew as a bird, and beyond to the high poles, where the ice froze on her gigantic wings.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ asked Rachel.

  ‘For Larpskendya. The Wizard told me he would leave his song on this tiny world. I sought out the scent of his magic to kill his presence, wherever it hid.’

  Rachel watched as Dragwena changed into dozens of creatures. As a shark under the vast Endellion Ocean the Witch sought, her body diving deep to the rocky bed, where her mouth became a limitless maw grinding through a million sea-creatures with fluorescent gills. For centuries she searched. The Witch scoured in every corner of the world, and beneath the world, and in the high skies, by day and night, until Rachel had seen the alien constellations flash by so often that she knew them intimately.

  At last Dragwena’s search ended.

  ‘You never found him,’ Rachel realized. ‘You don’t even know what Larpskendya’s song is. But it’s still here, somewhere, isn’t it? Protecting Ithrea. Protecting us.’ Her heart soared. ‘I remember the dream-sleep,’ she said defiantly. ‘Larpskendya promised to protect the children on Earth by developing their magic. He said they would be able to use it against you if needed.’

  ‘No child has ever come with enough magic to challenge me,’ said Dragwena. ‘But Larpskendya kept his word. For long ages I have drawn
children to Ithrea, and their powers are always improving. You are the strongest of all, Rachel. But you are not strong enough to defy me.’

  ‘I wonder,’ Rachel said. Could she really be the child-hope? And Eric? What about his gift? Was it a threat to the Witch? She sensed fear in Dragwena’s mind then, quickly masked, but fear nonetheless, and felt grateful. ‘So, you couldn’t find Larpskendya. Good. What did you do next, Witch?’

  ‘This was his planet, Larpskendya’s world. I hated everything. I changed it!’

  Rachel watched the Witch skimming over the original bright forest world of Ithrea. When she touched the trees they blackened and died. Dragwena dragged her nails into the rich soils and the lush flowers withered. She blazed across the vibrant blue skies, turning them to lifeless grey, and the snow a deeper grey, and filtered the yellow light from the sun until all colour and warmth was removed utterly. Even that was not enough for the Witch. She reached into the deepest edges of the world and created the storm-whirls, belching lightning and cloud. Then Dragwena turned on the simple animals, giving crows the faces of babies and changing dogs into wolves the size of bears, who could talk and comfort her in her loneliness. And one day, on a whim, Rachel saw the Witch take forever the singing voices Larpskendya had given the eagles.

  ‘I’m not surprised by anything you do now,’ Rachel murmured. ‘I’ve seen how you enjoy killing and maiming for no reason. I’ll never let you use me to do that!’

  Dragwena’s voice laughed. ‘We shall see. Eagles, children, everything you know or feel now will be meaningless soon. Only the battle with the Wizards is important, the endless war. But all is not war, Rachel. There is the Sisterhood of the Witches to bring warmth too. Would you like to see it? Would you like to see my home world, the planet of Ool – the Witchworld?’

  Rachel knew that Dragwena was trying to entice her. But this time, unlike the dream-sleep or her experiences in the eye-tower, Rachel felt that she could withstand the Witch. Confidently, she said, ‘Show me your home world, then. It must be ugly, if you came from there.’

  Rachel found herself floating above a gigantic planet. The sky was deep grey, almost black, and the lifeless sun offered no warmth. As Rachel expected, she saw the storm-whirls – but unlike Ithrea, the whirls on Ool covered the whole planet. And inside, riding the whirl-tops, Rachel saw the Witches, millions of them. They flew on the raging blasts, practising their spells. As Rachel watched she felt a yearning to be there, riding with the Witches. Who were they? What were their names? All were female. Mothers? Sisters? They beckoned, lifting up their bare arms, imploring Rachel to join them.

  Rachel wanted to fly amongst the Witches. She knew this feeling, dragging her inside Dragwena’s desires, and resisted it. She dismissed the Ool World from her mind, and knew that Dragwena had not expected this.

  ‘How did you bring the children from Earth?’ Rachel demanded.

  Rachel now saw Dragwena sitting alone in the unending snows of Ithrea. ‘Larpskendya made sure I could not leave the planet. I was trapped, but I began a spell, a single finding spell. It required a dozen years, Rachel, to initiate, and a hundred more to perfect, and the making of it almost destroyed me.’ Rachel watched the years of the spell’s creation flash by. During it the Witch hardly changed from her position in the snow, barely moved even her head. The effort to finish the spell made Dragwena ill: her blood-red cheeks swarmed with maggots and her teeth rotted as the cleaning spiders died.

  ‘Larpskendya made one mistake. He should never have told me he was developing magic on Earth. That gave me a faint hope. I put everything I had into creating this one spell. Finally it was complete.’ Rachel stared as Dragwena dragged her sagging body to the top of the highest mountain of Ithrea, breathing at the radiant stars. The spell leapt through the sky. It pierced the outer world and spread in several directions, hunting.

  ‘I waited a thousand years and longer,’ Dragwena said, ‘until I was so weakened I wondered if the wolves themselves might finish me off. But at last the spell found your Earth. And then I was able to draw children from it, bring them here and make use of their magic to revive me.’

  Rachel recalled the Wizards and the Child Army. ‘Why didn’t you return? You pledged to kill the children who turned against you. I know how much you hated them, still hate them.’

  ‘The magic of earlier children was not powerful enough. But I was patient and I waited. I knew one day a child would arrive strong enough to help me back – you, Rachel.’

  ‘I can read your mind as well as you can read mine,’ said Rachel. ‘It is dangerous for you to let me inside you, Witch. I’ll discover a way to hurt you.’

  Dragwena whispered, ‘No, child, you do not understand. I intend to keep you here, linked to my mind, until I am sure the transformation is complete. When you are fully a Witch I will return you to the caves and let you loose. First, I think you should kill the betrayers, Morpeth and Trimak. After that we must decide how to use little Eric. Your brother has strengths I cannot yet fully understand. If we are unable to master them for our own purposes, we will destroy him. Perhaps I’ll let you kill your own brother, Rachel – if the army I have sent does not reach Latnap Deep first.’

  Dragwena opened her mind, and Rachel saw Neutrana soldiers marching. Five thousand of them, armed for close fighting and flanked by wolves, headed steadily towards the caves of Latnap Deep. The army would arrive soon and Dragwena planned to kill everyone inside.

  Everyone except Rachel.

  ‘I’ll warn them!’ Rachel raged.

  ‘Try to get out. See if you can!’

  Rachel tugged her thoughts away, expecting to find herself back in the cave with Morpeth and Eric. Instead, she remained inside Dragwena’s thoughts. She searched for the exit. There was none. The original route was blocked, or she had forgotten it. Every path she tried took her down, deeper into the Witch’s mind.

  ‘Let me go!’

  Dragwena laughed, the sound filling Rachel’s ears. ‘The transformation is quickening. Sense it! Can’t you feel the change? You already have new powers beyond anything Morpeth can conceive. You are becoming a Witch. Join me. Don’t fight. It is pointless. Soon—’

  Suddenly: a blast.

  Rachel felt it slam into her, like the shock-wave of a bomb. Then a further boom, twice as hard, followed by high-pitched screams: Dragwena’s screams.

  ‘What?’ the Witch gasped.

  Another explosion, and this time Rachel heard something tear. She looked up, and saw light gashing through the tear, and above the light a corner of Latnap Deep. Eric stood there, his face burning with concentration.

  ‘Get out!’ she heard Morpeth shout. ‘Head towards us!’

  ‘No!’ said Eric. ‘Look for spells first. Quickly, Rachel, find them. I’m opening up Dragwena for you.’

  The blasts continued, ripping into Dragwena’s mind, slicing it wide. Rachel did not hesitate. She spread her thoughts, ignoring Dragwena’s agony. Rachel searched in the most secret regions, until she found what she was looking for: spells – delicate and powerful spells, changing spells, fast spells and spells of such complexity that they required unfathomable knowledge to summon. And, nestled deepest of all, were the death spells – a rich variety of death. Rachel touched them all, filling her mind.

  Dragwena’s shrieking ceased abruptly. Rachel blinked, finding herself lying in the caves of Latnap Deep beside Eric and Morpeth.

  Eric kicked the walls in frustration. ‘What did you find?’

  Rachel felt confused. ‘I . . . don’t . . . where is the Witch?’

  ‘Gone! I kicked Dragwena out of your head. I smashed her magic. She ran. She had to run, back to the eye-tower!’

  ‘H-how did you do that?’

  Eric shook his head. ‘I don’t know how. I just attacked her magic. That’s what I do, remember. I knew Dragwena was keeping you in there with her spells. I felt you trying to find a way out, so I reached in and killed the ones holding you there.’ He grinned. ‘Dragwena couldn’t make
them come back. Like you, she didn’t know how!’

  Rachel spent a few minutes considering what she had discovered. All the spells, including the death spells, remained in her mind. Was there something she could use to attack the Witch?

  Her left cheek ached. Absently, she touched it – and immediately withdrew her hand.

  Teeth, new teeth, were boiling under her skin.

  She stared at Morpeth. ‘What do I look like?’

  His face twisted.

  ‘Tell me!’

  Morpeth left the chamber briefly, returning with a mirror. Gripping it tightly, Rachel saw several things: her skin was red, blood-red; her nose a formless spongy mass. She examined her eyes. The lids were missing. She forced her lips open and noticed, embedded in the gums, three new sets of teeth. They were almost fully formed, white and backward curving, pushing at the flesh of her cheeks, ready to burst out.

  Rachel dropped the mirror. She stood still, too terrified to cry out.

  Morpeth gripped her shoulders. ‘Yes, you are changing, but you are still the Rachel I know! Do you want to kill us? Do you?’

  Rachel numbly shook her head.

  ‘Then – we still have hope.’

  ‘Hope?’ Rachel replied angrily. ‘Look at me! I’m still turning into a Witch! Dragwena told me this would happen.’ She turned to Eric. ‘How long before I completely change?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Eric. ‘I can’t tell.’

  ‘Can you get rid of it?’ Rachel pleaded. ‘It’s a spell. It must be. Can’t you stop what it’s doing to me?’

  Eric frowned. ‘No. It is a spell, but somehow it’s part of you, too. I can’t work out what’s happening. I don’t know how to stop it.’

  Rachel clenched her teeth. The new jaws meshed together perfectly.

  ‘Take me to Trimak and the others,’ she ordered Morpeth.

  Back inside the main caves everyone gasped when they saw her. Several Sarren instinctively drew their swords. She quickly told them everything, including Dragwena’s army approaching Latnap Deep.

  Rachel noticed a man, obviously afraid, barely able to look up. She clacked her new jaws menacingly. ‘You should be frightened of me!’ said Rachel. ‘When I become a Witch Dragwena said I’d enjoy killing you.’ The moment she thought this Rachel sensed death-spells rise up in her mind. The spells told her she could already kill them all if she wanted. To Trimak she said, ‘Get everyone ready to leave.’