'Mr Arkwright,' I said, 'do you think we ought to go to bed now? We've got a busy day tomorrow and it's getting late.'
'There he goes again,' said Arkwright loudly so that he soon had the audience he wanted. 'When will my apprentice learn that it's me who gives the orders, not the other way round. I'll go to bed when I'm good and ready, Master Ward, and not before,' he snarled.
Humiliated, I hung my head. What more could I say? I thought my new master was making a big mistake getting so drunk when we had to face Morwena in the morning, but like he said, I was only the apprentice and had to obey orders.
'Happen the boy's right, though,' said the landlord, coming over to clear our table. 'I don't like to turn away paying customers but you've had a few too many, Bill, and you'll need your wits about you if you're really going to hunt Morwena.'
I was shocked. I didn't realize my master had told the landlord what we were planning — who else had he told while he was at the bar?
Arkwright banged his fist loudly on the table. 'Are you telling me I can't handle my ale?' he shouted.
Suddenly the room was silent as everyone turned to look at us.
'No, Bill,' said the landlord amiably, clearly experienced in dealing with drunkards. 'How about you come back tomorrow night when you've sorted out Morwena and you can drink as much as you like — on the house.'
At the mention of Morwena, a low whispering started amongst the other customers.
'Right, you've got yourself a deal,' said Arkwright, to my relief. 'Master Ward, it's an early night for us.'
I led the way to our rooms with the dogs, and he stumbled behind us up the stairs. But as I entered my room, he stepped in too and closed the door, leaving the dogs outside. 'What do you think of your room?' he slurred.
I looked about me. The bed looked inviting and everything, including the curtains, looked clean and well cared for. The candle beside the bed was beeswax rather than smelly tallow.
'Looks comfortable,' I said. But then I noticed the large mirror on the dressing table to my left. 'Should I cover that up with a sheet?' I asked.
'No need. We're not dealing with your Pendle witches now,' Arkwright said, shaking his head. 'No, no, no,' he hiccupped, 'this is something different. Very different, mark my words. A water witch can't use a mirror to spy on folk. Not even Morwena can do that. Anyway, Master Ward, be grateful. Mr Gregory never booked me a room as comfortable as this — not in all the five years I was his apprentice. But don't get too snug now. Don't get yourself as snug as a little, little bug in a rug. Let us give ourselves a couple of hours' rest, but when the church clock chimes midnight, we're off a-hunting. A-hunting we will go! Go left from the door of your room and down the back steps. I'll meet you at the outer door. Softly, softly does it!'
With those words Arkwright staggered out, closing the door behind him, but I could hear him singing 'A-hunting we will go,' as he struggled drunkenly to unlock his own door. So, without getting undressed, I lay down on the bed. I might be a sound sleeper but I was good at knowing the time, even when asleep, and if I put my mind to it, I'd wake up just before the bells began to chime.
CHAPTER 16
Trail of blood
I was tired after our long walk to Coniston and slept soundly for the two hours, but I woke up suddenly just before the church bell began to peal. Instinctively I knew that it was midnight but I counted out the chimes just to be certain.
However, when I reached the outer door, Arkwright wasn't there. I checked outside, then went back to his room. I paused outside and listened: I could hear the sound of snoring. I rapped softly on the door, and when there was no answer, eased it open very slowly. Claw and Tooth gave simultaneous low growls as I stepped into the room but then their tails began to wag.
Arkwright was lying on the bed, fully-clothed. His mouth was wide open and he was snoring very loudly.
'Mr Arkwright,' I said close to his ear. 'Mr Arkwright, sir, it's time to get up. '
I called his name several more times but to no avail. Finally I shook him by the shoulder and he sat up very suddenly, his eyes wide, face twisted with anger. At first I thought he was going to hit me so I spoke quickly.
'You asked me to meet you outside at midnight but it's well after that now. '
I saw understanding flicker into his eyes; he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and came unsteadily to his feet.
There were two lanterns on the bedside table and he lit both and handed one to me. Then he staggered out of his room and down the steps, clutching his head and groaning a little. He led the way through the back yard onto the moonlit slope beyond. I glanced up at the rear of the tavern; all the upstairs windows were in darkness but the downstairs ones still cast bright shafts of light onto the ground. From within I could hear raucous voices and someone singing tunelessly.
The clouds had dissipated and the air was crisp and sharp. The two dogs followed at our heels, their eyes gleaming with excitement. It was a steady climb up the southern slopes of the Old Man until snow crunched under our feet. It wasn't very deep and the surface was just starting to freeze.
Once we reached the shore of Goat's Water, Arkwright came to a halt. The small lake had been well-named: a mountain goat would have been far more at home on its steep banks and overhanging crags than a human. The near shore was dotted with large boulders, making access difficult. But Arkwright had not stopped to look at the view. To my surprise, he bent forward very suddenly and began to vomit violently, gushing ale and hotpot onto the ground. I turned my back on him and walked away, my stomach heaving. He was ill for some time but then the retching stopped and I heard him sucking in big breaths of night air.
'Do you feel well, Master Ward?' he asked, tottering towards me.
I nodded. He was still breathing very heavily and there was a film of sweat on his brow.
'That hotpot must have been off. I'll be giving the landlord a piece of my mind in the morning, make no mistake about that!'
Arkwright took another deep breath and wiped his forehead and mouth with the back of his hand. 'I don't feel too well. I think I need to rest for a little while,' he said.
We found a boulder close by for him to rest against and sat together in near silence, save for his occasional groans and the odd whimper from the dogs.
After ten minutes I asked if he felt a little better. He nodded and tried to stand, but his legs seemed to buckle beneath him and he sat down again heavily.
'Should I go on alone, Mr Arkwright?' I suggested. 'I don't think you're well enough to search round here, let alone make it all the way to Coniston Water.'
'Nay, lad, you can't go off alone. Whatever would Mr Gregory say, with Morwena in our midst? Another five minutes and I'll be right as rain.'
But in another five minutes he was throwing up the last of the ale and hotpot and it was clear that he wasn't fit to hunt for Morwena that night.
'Mr Arkwright,' I said, 'I think I'd better leave you here and take a look round myself — or we could go back to the inn and search for Morwena tomorrow night.'
'We've got to do it tonight,' Arkwright said. 'I want to get back to the mill as soon as possible. I've been away way too long as it is.'
'Well, let me search round Coniston Water then,' I said. 'I'll take one of the dogs with me — I'll be fine.'
Reluctantly he agreed. 'All right. You win. I'm not well enough to make it to Coniston Water tonight. You head back the way we came towards the north-west of the lake and search there. Keep your lantern shielded so you won't draw any unwelcome attention. If you see Morwena — or indeed anyone else acting suspiciously — don't take any chances. Just follow them at a distance. Beware of that bloodeye and just try to find out where they go to ground. Apart from that, do nothing. Just watch and report back to me here.
'If I feel better, I'll have a look around here; then, later, we can check out Lever's Water together. And take the bitch with you,' he commanded. 'It'll give you a better chance if you run into trouble. Reckon you can
find your way back to Coniston Water from here?'
I nodded. The map was fixed inside my head.
'Right. Good luck and I'll see you back here.'
Without waiting for a reply, he bent down and whispered into Claw's ear, then patted her three times. After pulling the wooden shutters across the lantern, I headed for Coniston Water, Claw walking obediently at my side. I'd only gone a few steps when I heard Arkwright retching and groaning again. I was sure there was nothing wrong with the hotpot. The ale must have been very strong and he'd downed it far too quickly.
So with Claw at my side, I headed towards Coniston Water and the moon, which was climbing slowly above the trees.
As I walked down the hill, retracing my steps towards the village, an eerie cry came from directly ahead. I waited, tense and alert, sensing danger. There was something familiar about the sound. It could well be some sort of warning cry or signal. But then the strange call came again, almost directly overhead, and suddenly I remembered that I'd heard it before — on the marsh just minutes before I met Morwena and she'd dragged me into the slime. Immediately I glimpsed something flying back towards Goat's Water.
Without doubt it was some sort of bird and I resolved to ask Arkwright about it just as soon as I got the chance. It might be linked to the water witch. Some witches used either blood or bone magic, but others used familiars — creatures that became their eyes and ears and did their bidding. Maybe the strange bird was Morwena's?
Eventually I came to the village and passed quickly through its deserted streets, Claw padding at my heels. Just a few lights gleamed at upper windows. Once beyond the last house, I skirted the lake to the north shore, where I settled down within the shelter of some trees with a clear view of the shore, the lake beyond gleaming silver in the moonlight.
Time passed slowly, and although Claw and I searched high and low, I neither saw nor heard anything of note. I began to think about Alice, wondering what she was doing and whether she was missing me as much as I missed her. I thought about my master, John Gregory, too. Was he safely tucked up in his bed at Chipenden or, like me, out in the dark on spook's business?
Finally I decided to return to Goat's Water and Mr Arkwright — there was no sign of Morwena here.
The climb seemed harder this time, and although the path gradually levelled out, it was still some way around the Old Man. Soon I was crunching across snow again, following our footprints towards the lake. At last I came within view of the place where I'd left Arkwright. I was moving as quietly as possible so as not to attract the attention of anyone or anything that might be lurking on the fells, but suddenly, to my dismay, Claw started to howl and then bounded ahead of me.
It took me some time to catch up with her and I needed my staff to help me keep my feet on the slippery surface. As I drew closer, I pulled back the shutters on my lantern so that I could see better.
Immediately my heart sank. It seemed that Arkwright and Tooth had found Morwena. Or rather, she had found them. Tooth was dead, his body lying on the blood-stained snow. His throat had been ripped out. There were footprints around him — something with talons and webbed feet; something that had walked upright. There was another wide trail of blood leading to the lake shore. While Claw whined with grief for her dead mate, I gripped my staff tightly, numb with shock, and followed that trail right to the water's edge.
The lantern illuminated Arkwright's staff at the edge of the lake; one of his boots was half in, half out of the water. The leather was ripped and it looked as if it had been torn from his foot.
At first I had no doubt what had happened: Morwena had killed Tooth and then hooked Arkwright and dragged him into the water. Then I noticed more webbed prints further back. Lots of them. More than one water witch had been here. If Arkwright had encountered Morwena, she hadn't been alone. Had she attacked from the water while the others closed in from behind, giving Arkwright no chance of escape?
My heart lurched with fear. She could be submerged under the lake, watching me. There might be lots of witches, just waiting for their chance to attack. At any moment they might erupt from its calm surface and I would suffer the same fate.
Claw began to howl, that tormented sound echoing back from the high crag above. In a panic, I ran just as fast as I could. As each footstep carried me to safety, the howls of the dog became fainter and fainter. At one point I was afraid she might suffer the same fate as her mate. So I paused and whistled for her. I tried three times but got no response, so I pressed on towards the tavern.
Hungover as he was, Arkwright would have had little chance of defending himself. He'd been an experienced and successful spook but he'd made a big mistake in drinking so heavily. A mistake that had cost him his life.
I reached the safety of the tavern and locked myself in my room, unsure what else to do. As soon as it was light, I intended to head back to Chipenden and tell the Spook what had happened. I couldn't honestly say that I'd liked Arkwright but I was upset and shaken by the manner of his death. He'd been a good spook and would have taught me lots of useful — maybe vital — things. For all his bullying and drunken ways he'd been a powerful enemy of the dark and the County would be the worse for his passing.
But was I in immediate danger now? Doors could be broken down. If the landlord had played some part in this, the water witches would know who and where I was. Morwena might come for me herself or send other water witches to drag me back to the lake.
I remembered what Alice had said about using mirrors to communicate. The Spook wouldn't like it but I was desperate. I had to tell them what had happened at once. Perhaps the Spook would come north to help me? Maybe meet me halfway?
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned forward, placed both my palms against the cold glass of the mirror and started to think about Alice as she'd instructed. I tried to visualize her face and thought of the conversations we'd had, the happy times spent at the Spook's house at Chipenden. I concentrated hard but nothing happened.
After a while I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes but I kept seeing the horror of Tooth's body, the blood on the snow and Arkwright's boot lying in the water. I sat up and put my head in my hands. Would Alice sense me somehow and use what her aunt, Bony Lizzie, had taught her? Would Alice even now be chanting at the mirror back in the Spook's house in Chipenden?
How could it work when so much distance separated Alice and me? And what if my master caught her? Would he understand that it was necessary? He might send her away — perhaps it was just the excuse he was looking for.
After about ten minutes I placed my hands against the glass again. Now I thought about the time when I'd taken Alice to stay with her aunt in Staumin. I remembered eating the delicious rabbits that she had caught and cooked, and how afterwards she'd reached across and held my hand. Her left hand had held mine and I'd felt a little guilty, knowing the Spook wouldn't like it, but I'd been truly happy.
Immediately the mirror began to brighten, the glass warming beneath my palms, and suddenly there was Alice's face. I dropped my hands and stared back into her eyes.
Her mouth opened and she began to speak but the mirror was silent. I knew that witches used mirrors to spy on each other and their intended victims, but did they actually communicate by reading each other's lips? I couldn't make out what she was saying and shook my head. At that, she leaned forward and the mirror began to cloud. Quickly she wrote on the glass:
What did it mean? For a moment I was puzzled, but then I managed to decipher the message. The mirror had reversed her words. It was an instruction. Breathe and write! She was telling me how to speak to her.
So I leaned forward, misted the glass with my breath and wrote quickly:
Arkwright killed by water witch called Morwena. HELP!
Alice's eyes widened and she breathed on the glass and wrote again:
This time I found it easier to read. Where are you? So I wiped the glass with the palm of my hand and breathed on it again before writing:
Conisto
n. On way back. Tell Spook.
Meet me at Arkwright's watermill.
After a few seconds I wiped the mirror again so that I could see Alice's face. She nodded and gave me a faint smile but she looked very anxious. As I watched, her face faded until I was looking at my own reflection again.
Then I lay back on the bed and waited for dawn. The sooner I was clear of this place, the better.
CHAPTER 17
Pursuit
At first light I prepared to leave. The bill had been paid in advance for three days, covering our rooms and breakfasts. But I wouldn't risk showing my face downstairs. Questions would be asked about my master's disappearance; perhaps the landlord or his customers were in league with Morwena. I couldn't take any risks. So carrying my bag and staff, I slipped out by the back door and was soon heading south.
The easiest and most direct route was down the western shore of Coniston Water. I kept my distance from it, just in case Morwena or any of the other water witches were following me. But it was late afternoon, when I was already well past the lake's southern extremity, before I began to suspect that I was indeed being pursued.
There were faint but disturbing noises behind me: an occasional rustling in the undergrowth and once the distant crack of a breaking twig. At first it was hard to be sure because when I stopped, all became quiet. As soon as I walked on, the sounds continued, and gradually over the next few miles they seemed to be closing in on me. By now I was sure I was being stalked. The light was fading and I didn't relish the prospect of being hunted in the dark, so with my heart pounding, I put down my bag, released the blade from the top of my staff and turned to face my pursuer. I waited tensely, my body rigid, all my senses alert, but it wasn't a witch who emerged from the thickets to my rear. It was Claw.
She whined and came to lie at my feet, her head almost resting on my left shoe. Relieved, I let out a sigh and reached down to pat her head. I realized I was actually pleased to see her. A lot had happened since I'd been afraid to turn my back on her. If I was being pursued by witches, I now had a formidable ally.
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