The Spook's Mistake

CHAPTER 11 The witch's finger

After breakfast my new master made me clear the table and wash up while he went upstairs for an hour. When he came down, he was carrying a small hand-drawn map, which he placed on the table.

'We're going to repeat the hunting practice, but this time the terrain is far more difficult. Water witches love marshland and sometimes we have to go in there and flush 'em out!

'Here's the canal and the mill,' he said, pointing with his finger, 'and here's the marsh to the south-west. The most treacherous area, which could swallow you up in the blink of an eye, is the mere, so keep away. "Little Mere", they call it. It's not a big lake, but a dangerous

bog extends for some way around it — particularly to the south and east. The rest might prove difficult going but you'd probably survive.

'Now, there are lots of paths through the marsh, three of them marked on this map. It's up to you to work out the best routes. One of 'em might even allow you to outrun the dogs. '

When my jaw dropped, Arkwright smiled, showing a lot of teeth. 'This is where you're heading for,' he said, pointing to the map again. 'It's the ruin of a small monastery on Monks' Hill. Not much left of it now but a couple of walls and some foundations. Reach there before the dogs get you and you've won. That means you won't have to do it again tomorrow! And remember, this is for your own good. Familiarizing yourself with tracts of bog like this is an important part of your training. Right, you've got a couple of minutes to study that map and then we'll get started.'

I spent a nervous few moments peering at Arkwright's map. The most northerly path was the most direct and would allow the least time for the dogs to run me down. It passed close to the Little Mere, with its treacherous, dangerous bogland, but I thought it was worth taking a chance. So, my route chosen, I went out into the garden, ready to get it over with.

Arkwright was sitting on the porch step, the two dogs at his feet. 'Well, Master Ward, know what you're doing?'

I smiled and nodded.

'We could leave it until tomorrow if you like,' he offered. 'The mist's starting to close in again.'

I looked beyond the garden. The mist was creeping in from the west, drifting across the marsh in tendrils to form a grey curtain. But I still felt confident about the path I'd chosen. Might as well get it over with.

'No, I'll do it now. How much start do I get?' I asked with a smile. The hunting and swimming had made me a lot fitter, I thought. It would be nice to win and I wondered if I could.

'Five minutes!' Arkwright growled. 'And I've already started counting. '

I spun away and started to sprint towards the salt moat.

'Oi!' Arkwright shouted. 'You won't be needing your staff!'

Without even looking back, I threw it from me and splashed through the moat. I'd show him! Those dogs were fast and fierce, but with my five-minute start they'd never catch me.

Moments later I was sprinting along my chosen path, the mist thick around me. I'd only been running for a couple of minutes when I heard the dogs barking. Arkwright hadn't kept his word! He'd released them already! He was doing his best to give me the training I needed, but despite that he always liked to win. Annoyed, I drove myself even harder, my feet fairly flying along the path.

But the visibility quickly shrank to a few feet and I was forced to slow right down. Relying on scent, the dogs wouldn't have the same handicap and it slowly began to dawn on me that I wouldn't outrun them after all. Why hadn't I accepted his offer to wait until tomorrow? As I ran, my feet started splashing and I realized that I'd reached the more dangerous part of my journey — the point closest to the mere.

I could still hear the muffled barks of the dogs behind me. The mist distorted the sound and made it difficult to tell how close they were. By now I was reduced to a steady jog — far too slow.

It was then that I heard a strange, plaintive cry from somewhere above. What was it? Some sort of bird? If so, it was one I'd not heard before. A few moments later it was repeated, and for some reason that eerie sound unnerved me. There was something quite unnatural about it. But I carried on, aware that the dogs must be gaining on me.

After another three or four minutes I saw a shape on the path ahead. Slowly I came to halt, the dogs momentarily forgotten.

What was it? I peered into the mist and saw a woman walking ahead of me, shiny dark hair down to her shoulders. She was dressed in a green shawl and a long brown skirt that brushed the ground. I strode on quickly. Once beyond her, I could start running again. Even better, her presence might put the dogs off my trail.

I didn't want to scare the poor woman by coming up behind her and taking her unawares, so when I was about ten paces away, I called out in a friendly voice:

'Hello! Would you mind if I came past? I know the path's really narrow but if you keep still, I'll be able to squeeze by—'

I expected the woman to step to one side or look round to see who'd spoken. But she just stopped on the path with her back to me. The dogs sounded really close now. I just had to get past her or they'd be upon me and Arkwright would have won.

At that moment I felt a sudden chill, a warning that something from the dark was near. But it came far too late.

When I was just a couple of paces behind her, the woman suddenly spun round to look at me and my heart lurched up into my mouth at the nightmare that confronted me. Her mouth opened to reveal two rows of yellow-green teeth, but instead of normal canines she had four immense fangs. I retched as her foul breath washed over me. Her left eye was closed, the right one open — a vertical slit like the cold eye of a snake or lizard — and her nose was a beak of sharp bone without any covering of flesh or even skin. Her hands looked human but for her fingernails, which were sharp, curved talons.

Her hair shone because it was saturated with water, and what I'd taken for a shawl was a smock covered in green scum, while on the lower half of her body she wore a ragged skirt caked with brown marsh slime. Her feet, which now protruded from beneath her hem, were bare and streaked with mud but they weren't human; the toes were webbed, each ending in a sharp talon.

I was about to turn, ready to flee back the way I'd come, when she touched two fingers to the upper lid of her left eye and it suddenly opened very wide.

The eye was red — and I don't just mean the iris! The whole eye looked as if it were completely filled with blood. I was petrified in both senses of the word: filled with terror and rendered immobile where I was standing, as if turned to stone. I began to sweat with fear as her red eye seemed to grow bigger and brighter.

I didn't even seem to be breathing: a constricting, choking sensation gripped my throat and upper chest. Neither could I tear my eyes away from the witch. If only I could look away, perhaps her power over me would be broken? I strained every muscle in my body, but to no avail. I just couldn't move.

Like a serpent, her left hand struck out towards my face. Her taloned forefinger went straight into my right ear and I felt a stab of pain as it curved and pierced it right through.

She stepped off the path into the marsh, dragging me after her. Two more paces and my feet began to sink into the bog. I flailed my arms at her but I was in agony from the talon that impaled my ear and could do nothing but follow in her wake as we sank deeper and deeper into the marsh.

How I wished I'd brought my staff. But I knew that even that wouldn't have helped because I'd been under the spell of the blood-filled eye, unable to move. What was she? Some sort of water witch? I tried to shout for help but all that escaped my lips was an animal moan of terror and pain.

The next moment there was a growl from the path behind and something black launched itself at my captor. I had a glimpse of Claw's bared fangs, then the witch's talon was ripped from my ear and I fell backwards. For a moment the marsh closed over my head. Instinctively I shut my mouth and held my breath, but even so the slime oozed up my nose and I felt myself sinking. Being able to swim was of little help. I was floundering, trying to get my head clear, when I felt hands grip me by the shoulders and start to drag me backwards.

Within moments I was lying on my back on the path and Arkwright was kneeling beside me, staring down with something approaching concern on his face. Then he put his fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle, and the dogs came back, stinking of the marsh, steam rising from their bodies. Claw was whimpering with pain but she had something in her mouth.

'Give it here!' Arkwright commanded. 'Drop it! Drop it now!'

With a growl, Claw allowed something to drop from her jaws into his open hand.

'Good dog! Good dog! What a wonderful girl you are! Finally, after all these years!' Arkwright shouted, his voice filled with triumph. 'We'll find her now! She won't get away this time. '

I looked at what he was holding in his hand, hardly able to believe what I was seeing.

It was a finger. A long forefinger with a green hue to the skin. And instead of a fingernail, it had a curved talon. Claw had bitten off the witch's finger.