I felt so foolish—an apprentice spook with no weapons!—but how could I abandon Alice now? So I moved cautiously into the trees, came to a halt, and listened. There was a deep and utter silence. It was as if everything was holding its breath. Slowly, trying not to make the slightest noise, I took another few steps, then listened again. Silence. I felt increasingly uneasy.
I had to think quickly. I needed to improvise. On the ground to my left lay a fallen branch. I picked it up and was pleased to find that it was sound, and slightly thicker and longer than my staff; it was better than nothing. I hurried on, the incline becoming steeper with every step I took.
As I neared the summit of the hill, I sensed some unseen person watching me. However, the first eyes I saw weren’t human. I looked up. The trees above were full of crows. I noted their sharp beaks and glossy black feathers, the razor-sharp claws cutting into the branches. My heart began to beat faster. Was the Morrigan here? I wondered. The birds were still, but when I lowered my gaze, I saw something that made my mouth go dry with fear.
Directly ahead of me, a man was sitting on the ground with his back against a tree trunk. He seemed to be staring at me, but his eyes were dark hollows. I took a step toward him, then another. With a shock I realized that he was dead. His damp, mildewed clothes were green, which marked him out as one of Shey’s guards. It had to be the man who’d disappeared about a week earlier. He had been tied to the tree, and his eyes were gone. The crows had feasted already.
At least this man was now dead and beyond further pain. And there was no sensation of cold to tell me that his spirit still lingered nearby. No, the cold only gripped me when I continued beyond him toward the next tree. Alice was sitting there in the same position, back against the trunk, wrists tied to it with twine, forced upward at an angle of forty-five degrees. The bindings were very tight—I could see them cutting into her flesh. Additionally, her snow-white hair had been twisted into a knot and nailed to the tree, pulling her neck around at an awkward angle. She was moaning softly.
I rushed toward her and saw the blood congealed on the twine. She looked up at me then. Her eyes were still there, but they saw no more than the empty sockets of the dead man. She gazed right through me as if I didn’t exist. When I knelt down before her, she whimpered. Her whole body was trembling. I touched her brow gently. How could I untie her arms without hurting her?
“Alice,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll try to help, but this might hurt a little….”
Suddenly the sensation of cold down my spine intensified. Something from the dark was approaching.
“Try feeling sorry for yourself, boy!” someone shouted behind me. “Soon you’ll be hurting too!”
I whirled around, recognizing the voice, and came face-to-face with the witch Scarabek; Konal was now strapped to her back, his strangely ancient features leering at me over her shoulder. Behind her stood half a dozen bearded mages armed with swords. I heard sounds to my left and right. More armed men were walking toward me out of the trees. I was completely surrounded.
“Seize him!” the witch commanded.
Mages rushed forward, and I struck out at the nearest with the branch, brandishing it frantically to make him keep his distance. But it was useless against men with swords. Two cuts, and I found myself holding just a short wooden stump in my hand.
“Drop it, or the next cut will sever your hand!” the nearest mage warned.
I obeyed and tossed it away, and was immediately seized roughly, my arms twisted painfully behind my back. I was then dragged toward the tree opposite Alice and pushed down into sitting position so that I was facing her. Scarabek loomed over me.
“The goddess Morrigan is angry!” she cried. “You have dared too much! You weakened her in the Hollow Hills, and she will not forget it. Since then you have bound the Fiend—a deed that has hurt all those who serve the dark. For that, she commands that you shall die a slow, painful death. Not for you the quick death of my loyal husband, Shaun. We shall tie you to this tree and let the Morrigan’s crows peck out your eyes. After that we will cut you away piece by piece, starting with your fingers. We will sever them knuckle by knuckle, a morsel for each hungry beak that waits above! We will strip the flesh from your bones until only your skeleton remains! Bind him to the tree!” she ordered.
I fought with all my strength, but there were simply too many of them. They ripped the sleeves from my shirt, then held me against the trunk and pinned my arms back around it. Twine was bound very tightly around each wrist, and my arms were almost wrenched from their sockets as the two ends were pulled together and knotted behind the tree. It took all my willpower to stop myself from crying out. I didn’t want to give Scarabek the satisfaction of knowing that I was in pain.
I looked up and saw the witch standing before me. “My Shaun is dead because of you,” she snarled. She was holding out her left wrist like a falconer. But it wasn’t a falcon that was perched there. It was a huge black greedy-eyed crow, its beak agape.
“We’ll start with the left eye first,” she said.
Then, from behind her, someone else spoke. It was Alice.
“Poor Tom!” she cried. “Poor Tom’s hurt!”
“Aye, girl,” said Scarabek, turning to sneer at her. “He’s hurt, all right, but this is only the beginning.”
The crow unfurled its wings and flew onto my left shoulder. I felt the sharp pressure of its claws as the cruel eyes stared into mine. I tried to turn my head away, but it hopped nearer, and its beak jabbed at my left eye.
CHAPTER XXV
ALL FALL DOWN
I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned as far away as possible, twisting my head to make it difficult for the crow to reach its target. But I knew it was useless. Within moments I’d be blind.
Suddenly Scarabek shrieked, and I felt the crow relax its sharp grip on my shoulder. The pressure was gone. Had the ugly bird flown away? I wondered. I opened my eyes cautiously and, to my surprise, saw it lying on the ground at my side. It wasn’t moving. Its eyes were wide open but looked like glass. What was wrong with it? Was it dead?
“Tom’s hurt!” cried Alice again. “Don’t hurt him anymore!”
The witch was staring down at the dead crow, a look of incredulity on her face. Then she turned to Alice. “You!” she cried. “You did that!”
“Ain’t right that you hurt Tom,” Alice retorted. “He don’t deserve that. Why don’t you try picking on me instead?”
Scarabek pulled a knife from her belt and took a step toward Alice. “I’ll do just that, girl!” she said with a snarl. “I’ll attend to you myself!”
“You can’t hurt me,” Alice told her. “You ain’t strong enough.”
A couple of the mages laughed, but not that heartily. Bound to the tree and helpless, taunting a witch armed with a knife, Alice’s words seemed insane. Her pretty features were twisted into a sneer—the expression I’d seen on the face of her mother, Bony Lizzie, before she cast some dark, malevolent spell.
Then I felt it. It was as if someone had stabbed a shard of ice into my spine. That chill always warned me that something from the dark was close—I’d felt it as the witch and the mages had approached. But this had a strength and intensity beyond anything I’d experienced before.
And then, to my astonishment, Alice ripped her hands free of the twine that bound her to the tree, reached up to pull her hair clear of the nail, and stood to face the witch. There was blood dripping from her lacerated wrists, but she didn’t seem to feel any pain. She was smiling, but it wasn’t a pretty smile. It was filled with malice. Scarabek hesitated and lowered her blade.
Then Alice turned, bending her head down toward the tree trunk. What was she doing? When she turned back to face the witch, however, she was scowling.
Scarabek gave a sudden shriek of anger and ran straight at her, knife raised. I didn’t see what happened next because she was obscuring my view of Alice. But she suddenly threw up her hand and gave a cry of pain, then stumbled to her kne
es. Alice laughed hysterically as Scarabek twisted toward me and staggered to her feet again.
The witch seemed to have forgotten all about Alice. She was now approaching me very slowly, unsteadily. But she was still holding the blade, and her intent was clear. I noticed the mages staring at her with looks of utter horror on their faces. She was going to cut me—no doubt keeping a thumb bone for herself. I was terrified.
But then I glanced up at her face and immediately saw why she had screamed. A nail had impaled her green left eye, and blood was running down her cheek. Alice must have pulled the nail out of the trunk with her teeth, and she had spat it into the witch’s eye with great force and accuracy.
Scarabek staggered again, still lurching toward me. As she did so, Konal gave a bloodcurdling squeal. Whether mortally wounded or not, the witch still had enough life in her to wield the blade. It seemed as though nothing could save me.
Then I heard a rumble from somewhere deep within the ground, and all at once the whole world began to move. Above my head the branches bounced and writhed as if the tree trunk was being twisted and shaken by a giant’s hand. The witch’s gaze left me, and she glanced upward fearfully. But the danger came from the other direction.
A huge crack suddenly opened in the earth. With a grinding, splintering roar, it gaped wider, moving toward Scarabek faster than a person could run. At the very last moment she tried to leap clear, but it was too late. The earth swallowed her up and closed with a deep reverberating thud, leaving only the fingers of her left hand visible.
With harsh cries, the flock of crows quickly took flight; then the earth beneath my feet began to buck and shake, and the surface became as liquid as an ocean, with waves rolling across the forest floor. They seemed to be radiating from where Alice was standing, and even above the noise I could hear her chanting a spell in the Old Tongue. Mages and their servants were now running in all directions.
The trees were leaning at crazy angles, their roots dislodged by the violent movement. Then, suddenly, everything became still and quiet again, as if the whole world was holding its breath, appalled at what had happened. Now there was only one thing moving; one new sound to fill the silence.
Alice was spinning, dancing across the grass with her arms extended, blood still dripping from her wrists. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling and humming something under her breath. She spun faster and began to sing just loud enough for me to hear the words.
“A ring a ring of roses, a fist full of thorns,
A ring a ring of roses, a head full of horns.
I’ll give a laugh and then a frown
So they all fall down!”
She giggled and repeated the last line as if it pleased her: “So they all fall down!”
At that, Alice seemed to lose her balance and fell down hard, giggling. Then she put back her head and laughed loudly, and it was a long time before she stopped. Finally she was quiet, and a solemn expression settled upon her face. She began to crawl toward me, coming so close that our faces were almost touching.
“I can make ’em all fall down, Tom. Ain’t that true? Even Grimalkin, the strongest of ’em all—I could do it to her, too. Don’t you believe me?”
She was staring intently into my eyes. I nodded in agreement, simply to humor her. My wrists were still burning and throbbing, and I felt as if I was going to be sick any moment, the bile rising in my throat.
Alice now moved her head up and brought her mouth close to my left hand. She gripped the twine binding my wrist with her teeth and bit through it. I gasped with pain. Then she did the same to my right wrist.
I lowered my arms, relieved to be free. No matter what dark powers Alice had used, at that moment I truly didn’t care. I had my life back when I thought I’d lost it.
Next Alice circled my left wrist with her fingers and thumbs. There was a sudden sharp pain, followed by a tingling sensation that radiated from her thumbs to my fingers and then up through my wrist and arm. And the throbbing pain began to lessen. She did the same to my right wrist, then leaned down and put her arm around my back, easing me to my feet.
“Think you can walk, Tom?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Then it’s best we get away from here. The ones who got away won’t stay scared forever. They’re mages and used to dealing with the dark.”
I stared at Alice. Apart from the color of her hair, she seemed almost back to normal. “Are you better, Alice?” I asked.
She bit her top lip and shook her head. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Better? I’ll never be better now, Tom. But I want to be with you. I want that more than anything else in the world. It’s what’s just saved us both.”
I sighed and shook my head. “We need to talk about all this. Where did you get the power to do that?”
“Not now, Tom. I need some time. We’ll have no peace when we get back—not after all that’s happened—but come to my room tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you what I can. Is it right what you said yesterday? Did you really manage to bind the Fiend?” she asked me.
I nodded. “Yes, it’s true. We’re free again, Alice.”
She smiled and took my hand. “So we have a little time, Tom—a little breathing space to think of a way to sort him out once and for all.”
I frowned. “But the first thing is to get back to Shey’s house,” I said. “After that business in the chicken coop, I doubt we’ll be welcome there anymore. You do remember what happened there….?”
Alice nodded sadly. “I remember everything,” she said. “I’ll try and explain tomorrow.”
As we set off, I looked back. Four or five crows were pecking at something on the grass. One took flight, swooping low over us before soaring up to land on a branch. It its beak it was holding one of the dead witch’s fingers.
I gripped Alice’s hand even more tightly. It was good to be together again.
Back at the house, it took all my powers of persuasion to deflect Shey’s anger from Alice. But, with the Spook’s help, he and his men were finally persuaded that she had been under the influence of a spell, but was now restored to her old self.
With that first crisis over, we decided not to tell the Spook anything for now. I knew he was wondering what had really happened but realized that this was not the time to question us closely.
We didn’t even have the problem of explaining away the lacerations to our wrists. By the time we reached the house, they were almost completely healed—with no scars to show what had been done to us. Healing was a benign act, but the exercise of such extreme power could only have come from the dark. Exhausted though I was, I slept little for the remainder of that night.
In the morning, there was news of the war brought by a dispatch rider from Dublin.
The Spook came to tell me himself:
“Good news, lad, really good news. The enemy has been defeated in a big battle north of Priestown, and they have fled in disarray to the very southern border of the County. They are now in full retreat. We can go home, lad, back to the County. I can rebuild my house and start to collect and write books for a new library!” There were tears glistening in his eyes; tears of hope and joy.
But despite that good news, I dreaded my forthcoming talk with Alice. What had happened to her in the dark? What had she become? Why could she never be better again? Was she a malevolent witch at last? The way she had slain our enemies the previous night made it look that way.
After everyone had gone to bed and the house was quiet, I went to talk to Alice. This time I didn’t bother to rap on her bedroom door. She was expecting me, and I certainly didn’t want to risk waking the Spook, whose room was just a little way down the corridor.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring through the window into the darkness. As I entered the room, softly closing the door behind me, she turned toward me and smiled. I picked up the candle from the dressing table and set it on the window ledge. Next I drew up a chair and sat down facing her.
“How are you feelin
g?” I asked.
“All right, Tom. Leastways, I ain’t too bad as long as I don’t think about what’s happened.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Would that help or just make it worse?”
“Whether I want to talk about it or not ain’t the point, Tom. You deserve to know it all. Then you’ve got to decide if you still want to be my friend.”
“Whatever you tell me, I’ll still be your friend,” I told her. “We’ve been through too much together to go our separate ways now. And we need each other to survive. But for you I’d be dead now—cut to pieces by that witch and fed to the crows.”
“What I did I can’t undo. And I wouldn’t if I could—otherwise I’d have lost you forever, and lost my own life too. But I liked it, Tom. That’s the horror. I enjoyed destroying that witch. Whenever I hurt or killed something from the dark before, I felt sick afterward, but not this time. I liked testing my strength against hers. I liked winning. I’ve changed. I’m like Grimalkin now. That’s how she feels. She loves a fight! I killed—and I didn’t care!”
“Is it because you’ve spent so long in the dark, do you think?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “Is that what’s changed you?”
“Must be, Tom, and I can’t help it. When I came back from the dark, I didn’t think it was real at first. I thought I was still there. That’s why I was scared and shrank away from you. Those who served the Fiend often played tricks like that on me. Once before, I thought they’d sent me back to our world. I saw you at the edge of a wood. Really thought it was you, too. You smiled at me and squeezed my hand. But it was just a trick. You slowly turned into a devil. I watched your face warp, and twisty horns start to sprout from your forehead. And I realized that I hadn’t left the dark at all. So I thought what Pan said was just another trick and the same was going to happen again. I thought you were just a devil with a human face.”
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