by Robin Jarvis
Quickly, she jumped to attention—her guest had returned. "I'm sorry," she cried, "I haven't had time to do any tidying."
Nathaniel kicked over a pile of gardening magazines and they slithered over the floor. "Then I suggest you make time!" he scolded. "It's not fit to live in."
"Yes, sir," she agreed humbly. "I'm most awful sorry."
The warlock strode over to the fireplace. "At least you keep a cheery hearth," he remarked, "that's something, I suppose. Mind you, I imagine that's for your dullard of a husband's benefit and not mine."
"Why no, Mr Crozier," she protested, "I wouldn't want you comin' back to a cold house."
He chuckled softly to himself and slipped his hand into his pocket. "Well I hope you're not neglecting your spouse," he said. "Remember what I said about bathing his eyes regularly, without the blink reflex they'll dry up."
"Oh no, sir," she answered, "I've been seein' to that all right. But what I was thinkin'... well, you see, Mr Crozier, I was only wondering, if your stay was going to last much longer?" She shuffled away, expecting to be rebuked and made to suffer some terrible punishment, but to her surprise Nathaniel only nodded.
"Don't you worry," he said in a whisper, "I assure you I shall soon depart. My stay in Whitby is almost over, there remains but one thing more for me to accomplish and that is already in hand."
Mrs Gregson brightened at this news till a sudden doubt seized her. "You will set my Norman free when you go, won't you?" she asked.
"Dearest Joan," laughed Nathaniel, "believe me, when I get what I want, both you and your husband will be completely released from all your troubles." And he threw back his head to laugh at her.
"Now," he said, growing serious again, "would you like to see some fireworks, dear lady? It seems entirely appropriate for today."
"Whatever you wish," she murmured, fearing the cause of his horrible laughter.
The warlock took the second guardian from his jacket and turned it over in his hands.
"That's pretty," she ventured. "Looks expensive—antique is it?"
"Priceless," he informed her, "more ancient than your dull and flabby brain can imagine. See here? It says, 'STREONA MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN'—'Streona had me made'. The craftsman who made this died over fifteen hundred years ago, perhaps more. What a truly beautiful marvel—it must have taken him ages to complete. A painstaking, lovely piece of art—so very, very exquisite and infinitely precious."
With that, he let the wooden tablet fall from his fingers and crash into the fire below.
"Sir!" warned Mrs Gregson, reaching for the poker.
"Let it be!" he told her. "Let it burn. Its time is over."
The flames crackled furiously over the guardian, rapidly consuming the ancient wood, spluttering and fizzing as it charred and turned to ash.
Nathaniel stared down with satisfaction as the magical device withered from the world. His face was illumined by a lurid, orange glow and he chuckled happily to himself.
Soon there was only a blackened piece left, a defiant chunk which refused to burn away completely. Nathaniel took the poker from his hostess and rammed it into the heart of the fire, splitting the stubborn fragment into many splinters which the flames then devoured.
A blinding light burst from the hearth, blowing soot and flames into the living-room. Mrs Gregson shrieked in fright but Nathaniel stood his ground and watched gleefully as a tremendous rush of golden sparks rushed violently from the grate and soared up the chimney.
"It is gone!" he cried. "The second guardian is no more!"
The woman stared dumbly at him, not understanding what he had done. Then the room grew dark.
"What's happening?" she whimpered.
In his hand, Nathaniel held the plaster fragment where the sign of the crescent moon glowed briefly and was gone. Beside the mark of Hilda only one other symbol remained. "Night has come early to Whitby," the warlock muttered.
Rushing to the window, Mrs Gregson cried, "The day is failing! It's as if the sun has died!"
Upon the mantelpiece, her ornaments began to tremble, then a china dog jerked and danced along a shelf until it fell off the edge and shattered on the floor. The window panes cracked and an ominous tremor rumbled beneath the cliff, shaking the very foundations.
Mrs Gregson leaped away from the window as the glass broke free of the frame and came crashing down in a million deadly splinters.
"It's an earthquake!" she screamed.
Outside, the yard rippled like the surface of turgid water and the length of Church Street buckled, spewing out its cobbles. The shrill clamour of windows exploding cut the air and great cracks zig-zagged through many buildings. Dislodged mortar rattled down and the door of the post office was torn from its hinges and fell with a crash out on to the pavement.
Mrs Gregson ran over to her husband and threw her protective arms about him. "You've done this!" she howled at Nathaniel. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"
But the warlock was too thrilled to hear her. It was starting already—it was waking. "I must see!" he cried. "I must get out there!"
"No," Joan panicked, "free Norman first. If we stay in here we'll die—the roof will collapse. You can't leave us!"
Nathaniel gave the woman a cruel smile. "Better to die quickly now," he scorned, "than shrivel before what I have awoken." And with that he left Mrs Gregson to scream alone, clinging on to the motionless body of her husband.
After an eternity of enchanted sleep and constraint, the hour of destruction had come at last.
13 - The Waking Of Morgawrus
Ben staggered over the quaking shore where the threshing sand swirled in choking clouds. The tremor was already subsiding, and though it had left a trail of destruction in its wake, for the moment the danger was past.
The ground ceased its shivering, yet deep fissures had opened in the cliffside and jets of steam were hissing from the sea. The shock wave had been felt in every corner of Whitby and now the town was alive with the scream of alarm bells, sirens and the panic stricken cries of its inhabitants.
"Nelda!" shouted Ben as he clambered over boulders and leapt over gaping trenches. "Can you hear me? Anyone? You have to listen—it's Ben, Nelda's friend. I must talk to you!"
Reaching the massive concrete legs of the pier bridge, the boy scrabbled over the ledge and dropped on to the rocks on the far side. Already the tide was creeping in and he landed with a splash, the water filling his shoes and drenching his socks.
Ben paddled to the secret entrance of the aufwader caves and shouted up at the hidden doors. "Hello!" he called desperately. "You must listen."
If only he could warn them before it was too late, they had to be ready when the fish demon came charging into their tunnels. A ghastly thought surfaced in his mind, what if that monstrous creature was already in there? Even now the fisherfolk could be fleeing before its terrible claws. Maybe that was why no one had answered him—perhaps the last tribe of aufwaders was already extinct.
"Nelda," the boy breathed miserably.
The growing gloom closed around him and the waters rose to his calves. A bitter wind blew in from the sea and Ben stumbled bleakly through the surging waves, back to the shore.
As he climbed over the concrete ledge once more, a stern voice called over to him.
"Is thee addled, lad? Tha's all wet!"
Standing upon a moss-covered boulder, with his staff in his hand and a scowl upon his face, was Nelda's grandfather.
"Tarr!" Ben cried, greatly relieved to see him. "I've got to talk to you—it's urgent!"
The aufwader ambled forward. "What's 'e bletherin' about now?" he grumbled. "Allus summat wi' these landfolk—allus mitherin' and goin' on about summat an nowt! As if ah didna have enough to worry at me."
"It's that Crozier!" the boy explained, hurrying towards him. "He's got a disgusting creature working for him now. It killed a boy last night and he says that he's going to let it loose in your caves!"
The aufwader listened to him gravely, "Nah!
" he said. "Theer's nowt can get in our tunnels wi'out our lettin' it. 'Sides, it'll nivver find a way in—the gateways are all hid an' secret."
"I wouldn't bet on that!" Ben insisted. "You should have seen the thing. I think it could find anything—it was hideous!"
Tarr rubbed his chin. "Tha's wrong lad," he told him, "ain't nowt in this world can worm its way down to us. We'll be safe—if'n the cliff don't fall about our ears that is. Did tha feel the land shiftin' afore? Ain't nivver done that in all me days!"
"But that was Crozier's fault!" Ben exclaimed. "He's got the second guardian—probably destroyed it by now. Goodness knows what'll happen if he gets hold of the last one!"
Glowering at the unnatural darkness around him, Tarr muttered, "Does tha truly reckon this Crozy feller is to blame fer this? We thought it were the Deep Ones still angry wi' us. But p'raps not. They'd have dragged the cliff into the sea, not shook it to bits." He turned a fearful face to the boy and added, "If'n that man can do this—ain't nowt he can't do!"
"You must warn the others!" Ben urged. "He'll send in his creature and, if they're not ready, the entire tribe will be killed!"
Tarr let out an angry and defiant shout, drove his staff into the soft moss and spun around. "Oh us'll be ready, lad!" he called. "Have no fear on that—we'll be a waitin' alreet! Yer man'll find we're a mite tougher than he's guessed."
"What should I do?" Ben shouted after him. "Shall I come with you?"
Without pausing, Tarr shook his head and yelled, "Nay, the tribe can see to itsen. Best if'n tha gets on home!"
The aufwader strode grimly away, along the slippery shale, across to where great clefts were channelled into the rock. Prodding the staff into the recesses and niches before him, Tarr searched for one of the secret entrances. With a faint rasping sound, a low doorway appeared in the cliff face and he quickly passed inside. Then the way was sealed again and invisible to prying eyes.
Ben kicked up a clump of wet sand. "No point me going back to lovey-dovey Jen and dithery Edith," he glumly told himself.
The tunnel was a short one and Tarr soon found himself standing in one of the main passageways. "Fie!" he bellowed. "Bestir thisselves!"
The old aufwader marched down the caves, dragging aside the entrance curtains of the living quarters and shouting at those within. "Fetch the others!" he commanded. "Theer's trouble brewin!"
"Hang on, hang on!" complained Prawny Nusk when Tarr looked in on him. "What's got thee in such a muck lather?"
"Plenty!" Nelda's grandfather snapped back. "So don't stand theer bogglin'—tha girt lummox! Move thissen."
Presently most of the tribe had been roused from their quarters, including Johab and Lorkon the two elders of the Triad beneath Esau, and all looked to Tarr for an explanation.
"Theer's mortal danger headed our way," he told them, "find what weapons tha can. Sticks, hooks, knives—owt. Then guard the entrances an' keep watch."
"What we watchin' fer?" asked Old Parry huffily.
"If'n tha finds it tha'll know," Tarr replied darkly, "it'll tear thee limb from limb."
A frightened babble broke out and Nelda's grandfather shouted at them crossly. "Tha's all wastin' time gibberin' 'ere!" he stormed. "Go cover every hole wi' net an' stand by them to be sure. If'n this divil does break through, theer won't be none o' us left!"
The severe look on his face and his angry words quelled them and some scurried away in fear to hunt out anything that could be used as a weapon.
"An' what'll you do, Tarr Shrimp?" Old Parry said archly. "Where'll you be when we're defendin' the gateways?"
Tarr glared at her, "Hold thy tongue, else ah throttle thee wi' it!" he warned. "It's the leader of the Triad ah've a mind to see—theer's summat he's got to hear."
"You do that!" she squealed. "Go traipse down to the deep caverns where you'll be safest, don't spare a thought fer us brave souls up here! So like your kin—Abe, Silas and Hesper, they all skedaddled, but mark what happened to them. Stone dead the lot!"
"Cork it!" Prawny told her. "Don't worry none, Tarr, I'll see that no ways are left untended, and I'll make sure idle, nasty minds have work t'divert 'em."
Nelda's grandfather clapped him on the shoulder. "Ah'll be back soon as ah can," he said gratefully.
"Shrimp," came the voice of Johab as the elder shuffled forward, "have a care when thou speakest to Esau—he listens to none but the counsel of his own black heart. Temper thine anger, else he will not hear thee."
"Oh he shall!" Tarr said firmly. "Ah'll make him!"
Johab glanced at Lorkon and the two looked uncomfortable. When they next spoke it was both together, covering up their distress with a rush of words. "Then we wish thee well," they said at once, "nine times bless thee."
Tarr nodded to them, then stomped off to find Esau.
"You should have warned him," said Lorkon quietly, "a wild animal is at its most deadly when witless. Who can foretell what Esau may do if Tarr corners him?"
"Have faith in Tarr Shrimp," Johab muttered. "I should rather beard the leader of the Triad—deranged and perilous though he is—than that one in his present humour."
"Yet Tarr is ignorant of Esau's strengths. Even we who have sat beside him these many years, know not the boundaries of his power."
"Nor indeed the source of it," Johab breathed, staring down the black tunnel in concern and listening as Tarr's footsteps grew faint. "May the Three watch over him," he murmured.
Down the steep Ozul Stair went Tarr. The earth tremor had loosened some of the steps and now they rocked perilously under his weight. Grimly he reflected that they would not withstand a second violent quake, and made his way as speedily and as carefully as his age allowed.
Through the high caverns and dripping chambers he passed. The way was no longer safe, wide cracks had opened in the shale floor and plumes of scalding steam gushed from the deeps below. In the gallery of fossils, Tarr gazed warily about him. Several of the huge, blackened skeletons had been shaken free of the stone and were hanging precariously over the path, the primeval bones creaked threateningly as he walked beneath. Hurriedly the aufwader ducked under a low, protruding rib cage and came finally to the Gibbering Road.
The slender bridge was wreathed in mist, shimmering behind towering columns of dense cloud. It was an ethereal arch that linked one world to another but was present in neither. Tarr took a cautious step closer, the steam blinded him and it was impossible to tell where the ground stopped and the precipitous chasm fell sharply away.
Holding his staff before him, he tapped it against the rock and slowly groped forward. The bridge drew nearer, appearing briefly through gaps in the fog, before a sudden rush of steam snatched the vision away again. Only the constant, boiling hiss of the infernal vapours filled the aufwader's ears, and for that he was thankful—if the lamenting dead had been shrieking he was sure to lose his footing and fall headlong into the yawning gulf.
The staff touched the empty air and Tarr drew quickly back, searching for the beginning of the bridge—a little to the right, there it was.
Nervously, he stretched out a foot and tested the strength of the stone. There was no telling what the earthquake had done to the Gibbering Road—in fact, he had been surprised to find it still in one piece.
"Shrimp!" called a cold, cracked voice.
Tarr faltered and his foot slipped on the wet rock, for a second he teetered on the brink, the vast, immeasurable drop seeming to drag him down. But striking out with his staff he regained his balance and leapt back from the deadly bridge in fright.
With the firm ground beneath him once more, the aufwader glared about him but the suffocating steam enshrouded the far side of the bridge and all he could do was wait and listen.
"Return to the upper caves," demanded the voice, "the tribe have need of thee! Wouldst thou prove Parry's words to be true? Art thou indeed escaping the danger by bolting hither?"
Tarr thrashed his staff through the thick vapour, slicing and tearing at it for all he
was worth. "Ah know thee!" he cried. "Come out of the smoke, Esau—where ah can sithee!"
At that moment, the columns of steam subsided and the aufwader caught a glimpse of the far side of the chasm. Standing by the bridge, leaning on two sticks and bent almost double, was the leader of the Triad. His beady, black eyes were gleaming fixedly at Tarr, as though he had been able to pierce the blanketing mists all the time. At his side stood Nelda, her face was pale and she called to her grandfather in dismay.
"Be careful!" she cried. "He'll kill you if you try to cross!"
Esau whipped round and slapped her. "Silence!" he roared. "I did not give thee leave to speak!"
"Hoy!" bellowed Tarr furiously. "Keep thy hands off her!"
Esau turned back to him and cackled. "Begone," he wailed, "the upper world is thine now, Shrimp, I do relinquish my sovereignty there. Go back to the woes and strife above—let my bride and me be at peace from it all. The years of the tribe are numbered, only hours remain to you now. A beast is coming, a demon from the dawn of days and you shall wither before it like ice in flame!"
"How dost tha know?" yelled Tarr. "Who told thee of it and of Old Parry's words to me?"
Esau's derisive laughter boomed through the smoke like the howls of Death itself.
"Never shalt thou learn the answer to that!" he shrieked. "Such wisdom is for the leader of the Triad alone and to the chill grave will I take that secret. Flee whilst thou may, Tarr Shrimp! For even now the Mallykin pries and pokes upon the cliff, it may be squirming into the caves as we speak."
"Then tha must help us!" Tarr shouted. "Theer is a way, the human boy told me. Where is the guardian made by Irl? Where were it hid all that time ago?"
Esau sucked his gums peevishly. "Thou ought not to listen to the tongues of the landbreed!" he spat. "For they were ever a fount of lies and deceit. There never was any guardian—Irl wrought nothing with the moonkelp he stole!"
Dragging himself away from the edge of the precipice, he called out. "Now shall my wife and me withdraw into this small realm. Never to set foot outside its borders, our eyes have gazed the last upon the stars and moon and the great waters are denied us. The Lords of the Deep no longer hold sway over our lives. Here in the dark stomach of the earth we shall die together."