"The Spook's Curse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Delaney Joseph)

Chapter 20

Mam’s Letter I waited until the cart was almost out of sight before I began to follow it, my breath sobbing in my throat. I didn’t know what I was going to do but I couldn’t bear the thought of what lay ahead. The Spook seemed resigned to his death and poor Alice didn’t even know what was going to happen to her.

There shouldn’t have been too much risk of being seen – the rain was teeming straight down and the black clouds above made it almost as dark as midnight. But the Spook’s senses were keen, and if I got too close, he’d know right away. So I ran and walked alternately, keeping my distance but still managing to get a glimpse of the cart from time to time. The streets of Priestown were deserted, and despite the rain, even when the cart was far ahead, I could still hear the distant clip-clop of hooves and the trundling of the cart’s wheels over the cobbles.

Soon the white limestone spire began to loom up above the rooftops, confirming the Spook’s direction and destination. As I’d expected, he was heading for the haunted house with the cellar that led down into the catacombs.

At that moment I felt something very strange. It wasn’t the usual numbing sensation of cold that announced the approach of something from the dark. No, this was more like a sudden tiny splinter of ice right inside my head. I’d never experienced anything like it before but it was all the warning I needed. I guessed what it was and managed to clear my mind just before the Bane spoke.

‘Found you at last, I have!’

Instinctively, I halted and closed my eyes. When I realized that it wouldn’t be able to see out of them, I kept them closed anyway. The Spook had told me that the Bane didn’t see the world as we saw it. Even though it might be able to find you, just like a spider linked to its prey by a silken thread, it still wouldn’t know where you were. So I had to keep it that way. Anything my eyes saw would be filtered into my thoughts and soon the Bane would start trying to sift through them. It might be able to pick up clues that I was in Priestown.

‘Where are you, boy? Might as well tell me. Sooner or later you’ll do it. Easy or hard, it can be. You choose…’

The splinter of ice was growing and the whole of my head was becoming numb. It made me think again of my brother James and the farm. Of how he’d chased me that winter and filled my ears with snow.

‘I’m on my way back home,’ I lied. ‘Back home for a rest.’

As I spoke, I imagined walking into the farmyard with Hangman’s Hill just visible on the horizon, through the murk. The dogs were starting to bark and I was approaching the back door, splashing through puddles, the rain driving into my face.

‘Where’s Old Bones? Tell me that. Where’s he going with the girl?’

‘Back to Chipenden,’ I said. ‘He’s going to put Alice in a pit. I tried to talk him out of it but he wouldn’t listen. That’s what he always does with a witch.’

I imagined myself jerking open the back door and entering the kitchen. The curtains were drawn and the beeswax candle was alight in the brass candlestick on the table. Mam was sitting in her rocking chair. As I came in, she looked up and smiled.

Instantly the Bane was gone and the cold began to fade. I hadn’t stopped it from reading my mind but I’d deceived it. I’d done it! Seconds later my elation faded. Would it pay me another visit? Or worse still, would it pay my family one?

I opened my eyes and began to run as fast as I could towards the haunted house. After a few minutes I heard the sound of the cart again and went back to walking and running alternately.

At last the cart came to a halt, but almost immediately it set off again and I ducked into an alley as it rumbled back towards me. The farmer’s lad sat hunched low and flicked the reins, sending the hooves of the big shire horse clattering across the wet cobbles. He was in a rush to get home and I couldn’t say I blamed him.

I waited five minutes or so to let Alice and the Spook get into the house before I ran along the street and lifted the latch on the yard door. As I expected, the Spook had locked the back door but I still had Andrew’s key, and a moment later I was standing in the kitchen. I took the candle stub from my pocket, lit it and after that it didn’t take me long to get down into the catacombs.

I heard a scream somewhere ahead and guessed what it was. The Spook was carrying Alice over the river. Even with the blindfold and the earplugs she must have been able to sense the running water.

Soon I was crossing the steps over the river myself and I reached the Silver Gate just in time. Alice and the Spook were already on the other side and he was on his knees, just about to close it.

He looked up angrily as I ran towards him. ‘I might have known it!’ he shouted, his voice filled with fury. ‘Didn’t your mam teach you any obedience?’

Looking back, I can see now that the Spook was right, that he just wanted to keep me safe, but I rushed forward, gripped the gate and started to pull it open. The Spook resisted for a moment but then he simply let go and came through to my side, carrying his staff.

I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’d no idea what I hoped to achieve by going with them anyway. But suddenly I remembered the curse again.

‘I want to help,’ I said. ‘Andrew told me about the curse. That you’ll die alone in the dark without a friend at your side. Alice isn’t your friend but I am. If I’m there it can’t come true…’

He lifted the staff above his head as if he was going to hit me with it. He seemed to grow in size until he towered over me. I’d never seen him so angry. Next, to my surprise and dismay, he lowered his staff, took a step towards me and slapped me across the face. I stumbled backwards, hardly able to believe that it had happened.

It wasn’t a hard blow but tears flooded into my eyes and ran down my cheeks. Dad had never slapped me like that. I couldn’t believe the Spook had done it and I felt hurt inside. Hurt much more than by any physical pain.

He stared hard at me for a few moments and shook his head as if I’d been a big disappointment to him. Then he went back through the gate, closing and locking it behind him.

‘Do as I say!’ he commanded. ‘You were born into this world for a reason. Don’t throw it away for something you can’t change. If you won’t do it for me, do it for your mam’s sake. Go back to Chipenden. Then go to Caster and do what I’ve asked. That’s what she’d want. Make her proud of you.’

With those words the Spook turned on his heels and, guiding Alice by the left elbow, walked her along the tunnel. I watched until they turned the corner and were out of sight.

I must have waited there for half an hour or so, just staring at the locked gate, my mind numb.

At last, all hope gone, I turned and began to retrace my steps. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Probably just obey the Spook, I suppose. Go back to Chipenden and then to Caster. What other choice did I have? But I couldn’t get out of my mind the fact that the Spook had slapped me. That it was probably the last time we’d ever meet and we’d parted in anger and disappointment.

I crossed the river, followed the cobble path and climbed up into the cellar. Once there, I sat on the musty old carpet trying to decide what to do. Suddenly I remembered another way down into the catacombs that would bring me out beyond the Silver Gate. The hatch that led down to the wine cellar, the one that some of the prisoners had escaped through! Could I get to it without being seen? It was just possible if everybody was in the cathedral.

But even if I could get down into the catacombs, I didn’t know what I could do to help. Was it worth disobeying the Spook again and all for nothing? Was I just going to throw my life away when it was my duty to go to Caster and carry on learning my trade? Was the Spook right? Would Mam agree that it was the right thing to do? The thoughts just kept whirling around inside my head but led me to no clear answer.

It was hard to be sure of anything but the Spook had always told me to trust my instincts and they seemed to be telling me that I had to try and do something to help. Thinking of that, I suddenly remembered Mam’s letter because that’s exactly what she’d said.

‘Only open it in a time of great need. Trust your instincts.’

It was a time of great need all right so, very nervously, I pulled the envelope from my jacket pocket. I stared at it for a few moments, then tore it open and pulled out the letter within. Holding it close to the candle, I began to read. Dear Tom You face a moment of great danger. I had not expected such a crisis to come so soon and now all I can do is prepare you by telling you what you face and indicatint the outcomes that depend on the decision that you must make. There is much that I cannot see but one thing is certain. Your master will decend to the burial chambers at the deepest point of the catacombs and there he will confront the Bane in a struggle to the death. Of Necessity, he will use Alice to lure it to that spot. He has no choice. But you do have a choice. You can go down to the burial chamber and try to help. But then of the three who face the Bane only two will leave the catacombs alive. But if you turn back now, the two down there will surely die. And they’ll die in vain. Sometimes in this life it is necessary to sacrifice oneself for the good of others. I would like to offer you comfort but cannot. Be strong and do what your conscience tells you. Whatever you chose, I will always be proud of you. Mam

I remembered what the Spook had once told me soon after he took me on as his apprentice. He’d spoken it with such conviction that I’d committed it to memory.

‘Above all, we don’t believe in prophecy. We don’t believe that the future is fixed.’

I badly wanted to believe what the Spook said because, if Mam was right, one of us – the Spook, Alice or I – would die below in the dark. But the letter in my hand told me beyond a shadow of all doubt that prophecy was possible. How else could Mam have known that the Spook and Alice would be down in the burial chamber now about to face the Bane? And how had it happened that I’d read her letter at just the right time?

Instinct? Was that enough to explain it? I shivered and felt more afraid than at any time since I’d started working for the Spook. I felt as if I were walking in a nightmare where everything had been decided in advance and I could do nothing and had no choice at all. How could there be a choice, when to leave Alice and the Spook and walk away would result in their deaths?

And there was another reason why I had to go down into the catacombs again. The curse. Was that why the Spook had slapped me? Was he angry because he secretly believed in it and was afraid? All the more reason to help. Mam had once told me that he’d be my teacher and eventually become my friend. Whether that time had arrived or not it was hard to say but I was certainly more of a friend to him than Alice was and the Spook needed me!

When I left the yard and walked into the alley, it was still raining but the skies were quiet. I sensed that more thunder was to come and we were in what my dad calls ‘the eye of the storm’. It was then that, in the relative silence, I heard the cathedral bell. It wasn’t the mournful sound that I’d heard from Andrew’s house, tolling for the priest who’d killed himself. It was a bright, hopeful bell summoning the congregation to the evening service.

So I waited in the alley, leaning back against a wall to avoid the worst of the rain. I don’t know why I bothered because I was already soaked to the skin. At last the bell stopped ringing, which I hoped meant that everybody was now inside the cathedral and out of the way. So I began to head slowly towards it too.

I turned the corner and walked down towards the gate. The light was starting to fail, and the black clouds were still piled up overhead. Then the sky suddenly lit up with a sheet of lightning and I saw that the area in front of the cathedral was completely deserted. I could see the building’s dark exterior with its big buttresses and its tall pointy windows. There was candlelight illuminating the stained glass, and in the window to the left of the door was the image of St George dressed in armour, holding a sword and a shield with a red cross. On the right was St Peter, standing in front of a fishing boat. And in the centre, over the door, was the malevolent carving of the Bane, the gargoyle head glaring towards me.

The saint I was named after wasn’t there. Thomas the Doubter. Thomas the Disbeliever. I didn’t know whether it was my mam or my dad who’d chosen that name but they’d chosen it well. I didn’t believe what the Church believed; one day I’d be buried outside a churchyard, not in it. Once I became a spook, my bones could never rest in holy ground. But it didn’t bother me in the slightest. As the Spook often said, priests knew nothing.

I could hear singing from inside the cathedral. Probably the choir I’d heard practising after I visited Father Cairns in his confessional. For a moment I envied them their religion. They were lucky to have something they could all believe in together. It was easier to be inside the cathedral with all those people than to go down into the damp, cold catacombs alone.

I walked across the flags and onto the wide gravel path that ran parallel to the north wall of the church. Instantly, as I was about to turn the corner, my heart lurched up into my mouth. There was somebody sitting down opposite the hatch with his back against the wall, sheltering from the rain. At his side was a stout wooden club. It was one of the churchwardens.

I almost groaned aloud. I should have expected that. After all those prisoners had escaped they’d be worried about security – and their cellar full of wine and ale.

I was filled with despair and almost gave up there and then, but just as I turned, about to tiptoe away, I heard a sound and listened again until I was sure. But I hadn’t been mistaken. It was the sound of snoring. The warden was asleep! How on earth could he have slept through all that thunder?

Hardly able to believe my luck, I walked towards the hatch very, very slowly, trying not to let my boots crunch on the gravel, worrying that the warden might wake up at any moment and I’d have to run for it.

I felt a lot better when I got closer. There were two empty bottles of wine nearby. He was probably drunk and unlikely to wake up for some time. However, I still couldn’t take any chances. I knelt and inserted Andrew’s key into the lock very carefully. A moment later I’d pulled the hatch open and lowered myself down onto the barrels below before easing it carefully back into place.

I still had my tinderbox and a stub of candle that I always carried about with me. It didn’t take me long to light it. Now I could see – but I still didn’t know how I was going to find the burial chamber.