Alice nodded. “’Course you do, Tom. But seeing as there’s only one candle, we’ll stay close.”
No sooner had Alice spoken than there was the sound of coarse laughter from above—a man’s voice, raucous and rough, followed by a shrill feminine peal of mirth that ended in a cackle. We froze. It seemed to be coming from just above the trapdoor. Were the Malkins coming down into the dungeons?
But to my astonishment Mab broke our nervous silence, not even bothering to keep her voice low. “Don’t worry none,” she said. “They don’t come down here, not now—and that’s a promise. Scryed it, I did. You’re wasting your time, Tom. It’s up yonder that we’ll find your family.” She gesticulated upward.
“Why should we listen to you?” hissed Alice. “Scrying indeed! Didn’t scry that wight, did you?”
I just ignored their bickering. Alice had told me that Mab always kept her word. Maybe she was right, but I had to see for myself, and it seemed obvious to me that there were witches on the floor above. So, with a heavy heart, I began a systematic search of the second passageway, still on edge at the thought that the trapdoor above might open at any minute and the Malkins rush down the steps to seize us.
Many of the cells contained bones, but apart from the occasional rat, nothing seemed to be alive down there. I was relieved when it was over, but then I eyed the steps, wondering what was on the next floor.
Alice glanced at the candle, then looked at me sadly, shaking her head. “Don’t like to tell you this, Tom, but it has to be said. Won’t be easy to escape back down the tunnel in the dark, will it? You ain’t going to be safe passing that wight. We need to leave soon, before the candle gutters out.”
Alice was right. The candle had burned low. Soon we’d be plunged into darkness. But I couldn’t leave yet.
“I’d just like to check the floor above. One look and we’ll be on our way.”
“Then do it quickly, Tom,” Alice said. “Prisoners were sometimes kept up there and questioned. If that failed, they were brought down here to be tortured and left to rot.”
“You should have searched up there when I told you,” Mab said. “That way we wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”
Ignoring her again, I set off toward the steps. Alice followed, still keeping a tight hold on Mab, although she’d let go of her hair and was gripping her arm. At the top of the steps I reached up and tried the trapdoor. It wasn’t locked, but I took a deep breath before I began to lift it very slowly, listening carefully for any hint of danger. What if the witches were lying in wait above? What if they grabbed me as soon as the trapdoor was open?
Only when it was fully open did I poke my head out into the space above, raising the candle slowly to illuminate the darkness. It seemed empty of life. Not even a rat moved upon the damp flags. The inside of the tower rose above me, a hollow cylinder with a spiral of narrow steps rising widdershins against the curve of the stone wall. At intervals there were wooden cell doors. The air was damp, and there were wet patches and streaks of green slime on the wall; water was cascading from above to splash the flags to my left. Even the section of the tower above me was still probably underground. I climbed up through the trapdoor and moved toward the steps, beckoning Alice to follow.
“Be patient with me, Alice. I’ll be as quick as I can. I’ll just run up and check each door. If they’re not there, we’ll get out while we still can. . . .”
“Come this far, we have,” said Alice, her voice echoing up into the vast space above. “We might as well go all the way. These are the last of the cells anyway. Next floor is aboveground—the living quarters and where they keep their stores. You go and see. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Mab.”
But before I could move, there was a sudden distant crash, followed by a deep rumble that seemed to shake the walls and the flags beneath my feet.
“Sounds like they’re firing at the tower again,” Alice said.
“Already?” I asked, astonished that the soldiers were back to their work so soon.
“Started soon after first light,” Mab said. “Bit earlier than we wanted. Could have done with some more time, but that’s your fault, Tom. If you’d let me take their blood, they’d have slept until later.”
“Never mind her, Tom,” Alice said. “All mouth, ain’t she? Go on up the steps. Sooner we’re out of here the better!”
I didn’t need any further encouragement and set off right away. But despite the need for haste, I didn’t run. The steps were narrow, and the higher I went, the more daunting the stairwell to my left became. I reached the first cell and peered in through the hatch of bars. Nothing. Before I reached the second, there was another crash, followed by a rumble and a vibration that ran down the steps from above; the gun had been fired at the tower again.
The second cell was also empty, but then, at the third door, I heard a sound. It was a child crying in the dark. Could it be little Mary?
“Ellie! Ellie!” I called. “Is that you? It’s me, Tom. . . .”
The child stopped crying, and someone moved inside the cell. There was a rustle of skirts and the sound of shoes crossing the flags toward the cell door. Then there was a face against the grille. I held up my candle, but for a moment didn’t recognize her. The hair was wild, the face painfully thin, the eyes sore and red-rimmed with tears. But there was no doubt. No doubt at all.
It was Ellie.
CHAPTER XV
Like Lithe Cats
“OH! Tom! Is that you? Is that really you?” Ellie cried, tears starting to pour down her face.
“Don’t you worry, Ellie,” I told her. “I’ll soon have you out of there and you’ll be on your way home.”
“Tom, I wish it were so easy,” she said, sobs making her shoulders shake as tears ran down into her open mouth. But I’d already turned away and was beckoning Alice to come up the steps.
She climbed fast, pushing Mab ahead of her, and wasted no time in opening the cell door. As I entered, illuminating the cell with the candle, Mary ran to her mother, who scooped her up in her arms. Ellie looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes but then stepped back uncertainly as Alice and Mab came into the cell after me.
Then I noticed Jack. There was no bed in the cell, just a heap of dirty straw in the far corner, and my brother lay on it. His eyes were wide open and he seemed to be staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t blinking.
“Jack! Jack!” I called, walking over to where he lay. “Are you all right?”
But of course he wasn’t all right, and I knew that the moment I saw him. He made no response to my voice at all. His body was in the cell, but his mind was surely elsewhere.
“Jack doesn’t speak. He doesn’t recognize me or Mary at all,” Ellie said. “He even struggles to swallow, and all I can do is wet his lips. He’s been like this ever since we left the farm. . . .”
Ellie’s voice failed as she was overcome with emotion again, and I could only stare at her helplessly. I felt like I should comfort her in some way, but she was my brother’s wife and I’d only ever hugged her a couple of times: the first was at the celebration just after they’d gotten married; the second was when I’d left home just after Ellie had been terrified by the visit of the witch, Mother Malkin. Something had changed between us from that moment. I remembered her parting words as she warned me never to visit the farm during the hours of darkness.
You might bring back something bad with you, and we can’t risk anything happening to our family.
And it had all come true. Ellie’s worst fears had been realized. The Pendle witches had raided the farm because of the trunks that Mam had left me.
It was Alice who did what I should have attempted. Still gripping Mab by the arm, she moved closer to Ellie and stroked her shoulder lightly. “Be all right, now,” she said softly. “It’s just as Tom says. We can get out of here. Soon have you home again, don’t you fear.”
But Ellie suddenly flinched away. “Keep away from me and my child!” she shouted, her face twisted in fury. “You�
�re the one that started it all! Keep away, you evil little witch! Do you think that I can ever go back home now? We’ll never be safe there. How can I take my child back? They know where we are now! They can find us anytime they want!”
Alice looked sad, but she didn’t reply, simply stepped back to my side. “Ain’t going to be easy getting Jack down those steps, Tom, but the sooner we try the better.”
I glanced around the cell. It was a dismal sight, damp and cold, with slimy water trickling down the far wall. It wasn’t quite as bad as the picture painted by Wurmalde, but to have been plucked from the safety of their farm and brought to this was terrible. But something even worse than that had damaged Jack.
Was it because he’d gone into Mam’s room? She’d warned me how dangerous it was. Even the Spook couldn’t enter there unharmed. Not only that: Jack had copied my key—otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to open the door when the witches demanded it. Was he in some way paying the price for that, too? But surely Mam wouldn’t want Jack to suffer like this?
“Can you do anything to help Jack?” I asked Alice. She was good with potions and usually carried a small pouch with a selection of plants and herbs.
Alice looked at me doubtfully. “Got some stuff with me—won’t be able to boil it up though, so it won’t be half as effective. Ain’t sure it’ll work anyway. Not if it’s your mam’s room that’s hurt him.”
“I don’t want her touching Jack anyway,” Ellie said, looking at Alice in disgust. “Just you keep her away from him, Tom. That’s the least you can do!”
“Alice can help. She really can,” I told Ellie. “Mam trusted her.”
Mab tutted as though she had doubts about Alice’s skills, but I ignored her, and Alice simply glared at her. Then Alice pulled the small leather pouch of herbs from her pocket. “Any water?” she asked Ellie.
At first I thought that Ellie wouldn’t reply, but then she seemed to see sense. “There’s a small bowl on the floor over there, but it’s got precious little in it.”
“Watch her!” Alice told me, nodding toward Mab, who merely shrugged. Where could she go anyway? Up toward the Malkins? Or down toward the tunnels? Mab had no chance at all alone in the dark, and she knew it.
Alice went over to the bowl of water, unfastened the pouch, and removed a small section of leaf, which she doused in the water, holding it there to soak. I heard the sound of cannonballs hitting the tower once more before she finally went over to Jack, opened his mouth, and pushed the fragment of leaf inside.
“He could choke!” Ellie exclaimed.
Alice shook her head. “Too small and soft now for that. Fall apart in his mouth, it will. Don’t think it’ll help much, but I’ve done my best. Candle will go out soon, and then we’ll be in real trouble.”
I looked at the flickering candle stub. It wouldn’t last more than a few minutes at the most. “We’re going to have to try and carry Jack. You take his legs, Alice,” I suggested, moving round to try and lift him by the arms.
But I’d been optimistic about the candle. At that very moment it guttered out. It was very dark in the cell, and for a moment nobody moved or spoke. Then Mary began to cry, and I heard Ellie whispering to her.
“It’s still not hopeless,” I said. “I can see pretty well in the dark. So I’ll take the lead and carry Jack down with Alice, as I said. It’ll be hard, but we can do it.”
“Makes sense, that,” Alice agreed. “Let’s do it now. No use wasting any more time.”
I’d tried to sound confident, but the steps were steep, with a sheer drop beyond into the stairwell. Even if we got down safely, the wight still guarded the tunnel, and it would be very difficult to carry Jack safely past it. It was better than just waiting here for the Malkins to come down and cut our throats, but it didn’t offer much hope.
It was then that Mab spoke in the darkness. I’d forgotten all about her for a moment. “No,” she said. “All we have to do is wait. The gunners will breach the walls soon, and the Malkins will come down the steps and make their escape along the tunnels. Once they’ve gone, we can go up and get out through the hole blasted in the tower wall.”
For a moment I didn’t reply, but then the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Had Mab foreseen this? Was this the way she planned to get the trunks out of the tower? Through the breached walls? Whatever the truth of it, what she’d just said made sense. The first part of her idea might work, but I couldn’t see how she hoped to evade the soldiers and get the trunks out. And if we went up the steps, I at least would end up in Caster Castle, where I’d be hanged for a crime I hadn’t committed.
“It might be better to follow the Malkins down as they make their escape,” I suggested.
“Trust me!” Mab said. “It’s safer to go up than to be trapped in the tunnels with the Malkins. We’ll get your family to safety and I’ll get the trunks, so we’ll both win.”
The more I thought about it, the better her plan seemed. Ellie, Jack, and Mary were certainly better in the hands of soldiers than of witches. Nowell had said that everyone caught inside the tower would be sent to Caster for trial. But surely they would realize immediately that Jack and his family were the victims. My story would be borne out. If necessary our neighbor, Mr. Wilkinson, could be summoned to give evidence. He’d seen what had happened.
For Alice, it might not be so easy. She was from Pendle and had Malkin blood in her veins. There was a danger that the only one of that family sent to trial would be Alice. And as for myself, I knew what to expect. I would go to Caster, too, accused of the murder of poor Father Stocks. My heart sank at the prospect. I had no witness of my own, and Nowell would believe whatever Wurmalde told him.
But at least the trunks would be seized by the military, not the witches, and eventually my family would be free to return home. For myself, I tried not to think of a future much beyond that.
Mary was crying again and Ellie was trying to reassure her, difficult though it was in the darkness, with fear heavy in the damp air.
“I think Mab’s right, Ellie,” I said, trying to sound optimistic. “The tower’s under attack by soldiers. They were brought in by the local magistrate to rescue you from the Malkins. Mab’s idea could just work. All we have to do is be patient.”
Intermittently, cannonballs continued to pound the tower. Nobody spoke in the darkness, but occasionally Jack gave a faint groan. After a while the child stopped crying and just gave the odd whimper.
“We’re wasting time,” Alice said impatiently. “Let’s go down now, back through the tunnel, before the Malkins come.”
“That’s stupid!” Mab retorted. “In the dark? Carrying Jack and with a small child to mind? All right you talking—the wight won’t be after you. Look, I’ve told you already that I’ve scryed this. Don’t you Deanes ever listen? Seen it all. We’re all going up to safety, and I’m going to get my trunks.”
Alice gave a snort of derision but didn’t bother continuing the argument. We both knew that, whatever happened, Mab wasn’t going to get her trunks.
It must have been half an hour before the gun finally stopped firing. Before I could mention the fact, Mab spoke.
“They’ll be through the wall now,” she said. “It’s happening just as I said. Soon the Malkins will come running down the steps. If they come in here, we’ll need to fight for our lives. . . .”
Out of consideration for Ellie’s fear for her husband and child, I would have kept that quiet. But Mab was blunt. Some of the Malkins might be ordered to kill their prisoners. If so, I wondered how many they would send. At least we had surprise on our side. There were more of us in the cell than they expected.
“Mab’s right,” I said. “Lock the cell from the inside, Alice. That’ll keep the element of surprise.”
Alice hissed through her teeth in annoyance at my support of Mab, but a moment later I listened to her turn the key in the lock and I gripped my staff tightly. Immediately afterward, somewhere outside the cell, I heard a door opening, followed
by a distant murmur of voices. Then I heard footsteps on stone. Somebody was coming down—and not just one person. Several. There were voices and also heavy boots and the click of pointy shoes echoing across the stairwell.
Nobody spoke in the cell. We all knew the danger we were in. Were they coming for Jack, Ellie, and Mary, or simply making their escape? We’d no chance at all against so many, but even though it seemed hopeless, I wouldn’t give in without a fight.
The footsteps drew nearer, and moments later, through the hatch of bars, I glimpsed candlelight and shadowed heads bobbing from right to left past the cell door as the witches and clan supporters made their escape. I heard them reach the bottom of the steps and start to climb down through the hatch, perhaps two dozen or more of them. Suddenly it was silent, and I hardly dared to hope that they’d gone. Maybe in their haste to escape they’d forgotten their prisoners completely?
“In a moment two of ’em will come back up,” Mab whispered. “We need to be ready!”
It was then that I heard a female voice in the distance. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable, the cold voice filled with cruelty. My heart sank as someone began to climb toward us, retracing their steps.
As they approached the door, close by, in the darkness of the cell, someone sniffed loudly. “Two of them, that’s all,” said Alice, who had just sniffed out a confirmation of what Mab had predicted.
In reply, Mab’s voice cut through the darkness. “Two it is,” she said, “and one’s only a man. I’ll soon sort him.”
Two sets of footsteps drew nearer: the click of pointy shoes and the thud of heavy boots. A key was inserted into the lock, and beyond the bars a woman spoke.
“Leave the child to me,” she said. “She’s mine.”
As the door opened, I lifted my staff, ready to defend Ellie and her family. The man was holding a lantern in his right hand and a dagger in his left—one with a long, cruel blade. At his shoulder stood a witch with a thin, hard mouth and eyes like black buttons stitched unevenly into her forehead.
The Last Apprentice: Complete Collection Page 79