The Whitby Witches 2: A Warlock In Whitby

by Robin Jarvis

  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 pe
rilously 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."

  "Grendel!" bawled Tarr furiously. "Listen to me, if the guardian does exist and this fiend takes it, it'll not be just the tribe who are doomed!"

  But Esau had spoken his last word and, casting a malevolent glance at Nelda signalling her to follow, he hobbled away.

  The aufwader girl took a wretched step after him, but she faltered and turned back towards the curtain of mist.

  "Grandfather," she called, "did you really see Ben?"

  "Aye, lass," came the reply, "but greatly troubled he was."

  "This guardian is important, isn't it?"

  When Tarr answered, his voice was filled with dread and horror. "Oh Nelda!" he cried. "Tha should be here, on this side of the abyss. We might not see each other again. Ah can feel the fate of the world pressing down, an' we're caught like crabs in a pot. It's all endin', the dark is closin' round and soon theer'll be nowt but night."

  She stood graven like stone as his sobs came floating through the steam to her and at last Nelda knew what must be done. The lives of everyone she held dear were in her hands—only she could save them. At that moment, standing on the brink of the terrifying gulf, the girl came to a horrendous decision.

  "Goodbye, Grandfather," she said, but her voice was thin and weak and he did not hear her.

  Abruptly, a deep rumbling moan issued from the chasm—"The souls of the dead are stirring," murmured Nelda as unbearable shrieks echoed out of the mist in fearful blasts.

  Upon the other side, Tarr strained his eyes trying to peer through the fog, his patience was finally rewarded as the clouds dispersed for a moment. But the sight which he beheld made him tremble more than ever.

  "Nelda!" he shouted. "What is it?"

  His granddaughter looked awful; her face was ghastly, like one who has heard the pronouncement of some terrible, condemning sentence. Her grey eyes were as two embers that smouldered with horror and she turned away, without seeming to see him and walked after Esau with leaden steps.

  Tarr called out to her, it was as if she was going to her death. But Nelda made no sign that she had heard him and vanished into the caverns beyond, back to the chamber of the Triad and was lost as the mist surged in once again.

  With the shrill, banshee wails gibbering insanely about him, Tarr whispered, "No, Nelda—dunna go to him." And a great tear rolled down his craggy face.

  Nelda moved as though she were in a dream. She was aware of all that was going on around her, but it was as if she were viewing it from some far distance. Her feet led her to the hallowed cavern where the waterfalls splashed around the gurgling springs. But all was dim and vague, a realm of shadow shapes and hazy glimmerings. Were they voices she could hear amid the babbling water? Why were they urging her to turn back? Slowly she drew aside the tapestry curtain and made her way into the Triad chamber.

  The light from the lamp above the central throne flickered sharply over her small form. The rock crystal about the silver boat shone like the moon on the waves but the radiance was cold, colder than the dark deeps—where the moonkelp bloomed.

  Nelda raised her eyes to it and found herself wondering who had created the cunning lamp. Could Irl's hands have wielded the hammer which formed the silver timbers and could he have hewn the crystal from the cliff? Was it more than a natural flame which shone t
here? The idea grew large in her mind and she strode quickly to her husband's chamber to confirm it.

  Esau was hunched over the pool, his bow-legs tucked under his trailing, forked beard. Staring down, he gazed intently into the Darkmirror, searching for answers to appease his gnawing doubts.

  The still water remained black and calm and he knotted his brows, projecting his will out into the liquid seeking for a sign.

  "Show me," he grunted, his eyes bulging from their wrinkled sockets, "yield up thy secrets." His temples throbbed under the strain of his concentration and he did not see his bride enter the chamber. "Hah!" he snarled. "The darkness clears—there! I see it!"

  Below him, the pool pulsed with a dismal glow and strands of gloom twisted and whirled in its depths. Esau clasped his gnarled claws as faint images swam into view; some were there only for an instant, hardly long enough for him to discern what they were, whilst others lingered and he gabbled excitedly as he recognised them.

  There was Tarr trudging back through the tunnels, to his death, Esau hoped—then the vision changed and another scene enfolded before his eyes. At the main entrance to the aufwader caves many of the tribe were collecting boat hooks and fishing nets and seemed to be in great distress, then he saw others guarding the lesser ways, a flash of scales leaped through the dark and for a moment the pool was blank.

  Esau's lips parted and his gums squeezed together impatiently. "More," he jabbered, "I must see more!"

  In the inky pool, an image of the cliff top formed, and there, standing tall and arrogant amid the gravestones was Nathaniel Crozier. At once he looked up, his eyes glaring from the surface of the water. It was as though he could see the ancient aufwader, for he raised his hand and pointed threateningly—then he dissolved. Now the Darkmirror showed the ocean bed, where sinister shapes lurked in the flowing weed and coral reefs. Ruined pillars and crumbling statues rested against mountains of broken stone and emerald fish darted to and fro between barnacled masonry. Then a silvery-blue light shone up to Esau's shrivelled face as the outline of three gigantic thrones drew near. Next, he found himself looking on the open sea, where an island of black rock rose from the waves and the mists wove densely about it. The pool sank into blackness once more.