Fury of the Seventh Son (Book 13)

BOOK: Fury of the Seventh Son (Book 13)
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DEDICATION

FOR MARIE

CONTENTS

Dedication

Chapter I - Another Way

Chapter II - The Spook's Legacy

Chapter III - The First Lamia

Chapter IV - The Unexplained

Chapter V - The Wardstone

Chapter VI - The Doomdryte

Chapter VII - A Terrible Scene

Chapter VIII - Only You Can Do It

Chapter IX - The Ambush

Chapter X - The Pursuit

Chapter XI - The Dark Tower

Chapter XII - The Coffin

Chapter XIII - The Vast, Dark Tide

Chapter XIV - The Spook's Boggart

Chapter XV - The Battle on the Steps

Chapter XVI - A Tide of Blood

Chapter XVII - The Dark Rider

Chapter XVIII - The Last Apprentice

Chapter XIX - A Price to Be Paid

Chapter XX - Tendrils of Green Mist

Chapter XXI - A Scrawny Boy

Chapter XXII - A Fierce, Warlike Race

Chapter XXIII - The Abhumans

Chapter XXIV - A Plague of Skelts

Chapter XXV - Brewer's Farm

Chapter XXVI - Nobody Will Be Safe

Chapter XXVII - The Clash of Witch Assassins

Chapter XXVIII - The Battle of the Wardstone

Chapter XXIX - A Question of Time

Chapter XXX - A Terrible Hunger

Chapter XXXI - The Tower of Time

Chapter XXXII - Draw Your Sword

Chapter XXXIII - Lamia Blood

Chapter XXXIV - The Last Lesson

Chapter XXXV - The Chipenden Spook

Epilogue

About the Author

Credits

Copyright

About the Publisher

CHAPTER I

A
NOTHER
W
AY

I
awoke from a nightmare, my heart pounding, and sat up in bed feeling sick. For a few moments I thought I was going to vomit, but gradually my stomach settled down.

In my dream I had been killing Alice—cutting away her thumb bones.

At Halloween, now barely a month away, I would have to carry out this terrible ritual in the real world. It was what was expected of me. My mam wished it, for it was the only way to end the threat of the Fiend forever.

But how could I do it? How could I kill Alice?

I lay awake, fearful of going back to sleep lest the nightmare resume. Painful thoughts continued to swirl through my head. Alice was a willing victim. She was prepared to be sacrificed. Not only that, but she had bravely ventured into the dark to retrieve the Blade of Sorrow. This was one of the hero swords—three sacred weapons to be used to destroy the Fiend . . . weapons that would kill her in the process.

The hero swords had been forged by the Old God Hephaestus; the first of these was the Destiny Blade, given to me by Cuchulain in Ireland. The second was called Bone Cutter, and now, if Alice had succeeded in her quest into the dark, I would possess all three.

At the moment the Fiend was bound to his dead flesh—his body impaled with silver spears in the Irish countryside, his head in a leather sack in the possession of Grimalkin, the witch assassin. She was on the run, fighting desperately to keep it from the Fiend's servants. If they got hold of it, they would reunite head and body, and the Fiend would walk the earth once more, and the ritual could not take place.

But Alice had still not returned from the dark. Perhaps something had happened, I thought. Maybe she would never come back. . . .

I was also worried about my brother James, who had gone missing. The fiend had said that his servants had cut his throat and thrown him into a ditch. I desperately hoped he was lying, but I couldn't keep the terrible thought of it out of my head for long.

I tried to sleep again, without success, and the night dragged on. Then, just before dawn, the mirror on my bedside table suddenly began to glow. Alice was the only one who ever contacted me using a mirror. I sat up and grabbed it, looking into the glass, hardly daring to hope. For weeks and weeks I had been waiting for word from her. I had thought that perhaps I would see her just stroll happily into the garden, the Dolorous Blade in hand. But now Alice would be able to tell me that all was well immediately.

My heart soared with happiness as she stared out of the glass at me, a faint smile on her lips. She mouthed a sentence: “I'm on the edge of the western garden.”

In the past I used to communicate with Alice by breathing on the glass and writing, but I had grown skilled at reading her lips. She had no difficulty at all in reading mine.

“Wait there!” I told her. “I'll be down right away.”

I dressed quickly, then went downstairs as quietly as possible, trying not to wake the Spook. As I headed out through the back door, a thought struck me: Why hadn't Alice come into the garden?

The sky was growing lighter in the east, and as I passed the bench where my master sometimes gave me lessons, I saw Alice waiting at the edge of the trees.

She was dressed as I had last seen her—in a dark dress that just came down below her knees, and her pointy shoes. But what cheered me most of all was the smile on her pretty face. I ran toward her and she opened her arms, her smile broadening. We hugged each other tight and rocked back and forth.

“You're safe! You're safe!” I cried. “I never thought I'd see you again.”

At last we broke apart and stared at each other silently for a moment or two.

“There were times when I thought I'd never escape from the dark,” Alice said. “But I did it, Tom. I got in and out safely, and I have the blade. Glad to see you, I am.”

She pulled it from a pocket and held it out to me. I turned it over and over in my hands, looking at it closely. It looked just like its twin, Bone Cutter: the same skelt with ruby eyes adorned the hilt, staring up at me. The skelt was a killer that hid in crevices near water before scuttling out on its eight legs to pierce its victims with its bone tube and drain their blood.

I forced my eyes away from the blade and looked again at Alice, feeling a surge of happiness. I'd missed her so much. How could I ever have considered sacrificing her? Even the destruction of the Fiend surely couldn't justify it. It was clear to me now that I couldn't go through with it. Tears came to my eyes and a lump to my throat.

“You're brave, Alice. Nobody else could have succeeded. But I'm sorry—you did it all for nothing. I can't go through with the ritual. I won't sacrifice you. I wouldn't hurt you for anything. We'll have to find another way to put an end to the Fiend.”

“It's funny, Tom, but you're the second person to tell me that my going into the dark was unnecessary. Grimalkin thinks so, too.”

“You've talked to Grimalkin? I haven't seen her in over a month.”

“Grimalkin's been helping me. She's found another way to destroy the Fiend—we're working on it together. I'm hopeful, Tom. I really believe we can do it without the need for such a sacrifice. Had to come and see you and tell you, I did, but I've got to get back now. There's work to do.”

I couldn't believe that Alice was already going off again.

We'd been apart for so long, and now all we'd had was a couple of minutes together. It was so disappointing. I wanted to know more about Grimalkin's plan. How had she discovered a method that Mam had not been aware of?

“Come back to the house for a while, please,” I begged her. “Tell me what's going on. And I'd like to know how you coped in the dark—I'm sure the Spook will have all sorts of questions to ask you, too.”

But Alice shook her head firmly. “That ain't possible, Tom. You see, Grimalkin's plan makes use of seriously dark magic. It's the only thing that'll work. Old Gregory wouldn't approve, you know that. He's bound to ask me questions about what I'm up to, and I'd have to lie to him. He's good at telling when people are lying. It's best that I go.”

“Then when will I see you again, Alice?”

“Ain't sure, but Grimalkin and I will return for sure. . . . See you when we've succeeded.”

Alice looked just as I remembered her, but as she spoke now, she sounded different—completely confident of success. Was she being overconfident?

“Is it dangerous?” I asked nervously.

“I won't lie to you, Tom. Of course it's dangerous. But we've been in danger from the dark from the moment we met, and we've always come through safely. Don't see why this shouldn't be the same.”

Suddenly she rushed into my arms and kissed me fiercely on the lips. Before I could respond, it was over; she broke away from me and began to walk off.

I stared after her in shock. I was stunned. Why had she kissed me? Could it really be that she cared for me as much as I cared for her? I had never known. I desperately wanted to hold her in my arms again.

Alice turned, looked back, and called out over her shoulder, “Take care, Tom! Don't tell Old Gregory you've seen me. It's best that way.”

And then she was gone. There was so much I hadn't had time to ask her. What had it been like in the dark? How had she managed to survive and retrieve the blade I now held in my hand?

I walked back toward the house sadly. I was very relieved that Alice had returned safely, but now I had something else to worry about. What were Alice and Grimalkin about to attempt? No doubt there were great risks involved.

She'd asked me not to tell my master that I'd met her. One part of me agreed with her; it was probably for the best to keep it from him—he'd only ask questions. But I'd kept too many things from him in the past. I'd have to hide the blade to make sure he didn't see it.

I'd been feeling increasingly guilty about such deceptions. Each had seemed very necessary at the time, but they had accumulated, and the more there were, the worse I'd felt. This was one more to add to the list, and I didn't like it.

CHAPTER II

T
HE
S
POOK'S
L
EGACY

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