The Spook 9 - Slither's tale Read Free Page A

spiral away, spinning up into the sky. Not many did that. Usually they gave a sort of groan or howl and plunged into the earth. So Old Rowler was clearly an Up. I’d missed out on a new soul, but what did that matter? He was gone now and my curiosity was satisfied.
    I began to search the body. There was only one coin. Probably the same one I’d given him earlier for the ox blood. Next I pulled out the sabre. The handle was a little rusty but I liked the balance and the blade was sharp.
    I swished it through the air a few times. It had a good feel to it so I thrust it safely into the lining of my own overcoat.
    That done, I was free to begin the main business of the night.
    Old Rowler’s daughters . . .

IT WAS GETTING dark when I reached the farmhouse. There’d be no moon tonight and there was only one light coming from the house – the faint, fitful flicker of a candle behind the tattered curtains of the front bedroom.
    I loped up to the door and rapped loudly upon it three times. I used the black knocker, the one decorated with the one-eyed head of a gargoyle, which was supposed to frighten off anything threatening that approached by night. Of course, this was just superstitious nonsense and my triple rap echoed through the house.
    There was no reply. Those three girls had no manners, I thought. No manners at all.
    Angrily, I dropped on all fours and ran three times round the house in a widdershins direction, against the clock, and each time I passed the front door I let out a loud, intimidating howl.
    Next I returned to the front of the house and blew myself up to three times human size. I placed my forehead against the cold glass of the bedroom window and closed one eye.
    With my left eye, I could just see through the narrow chink where the curtains met. I spotted Nessa, my inheritance, and her two sisters, huddled together on the bed.
    Nessa was in the middle, with her arms wrapped about the shoulders of her younger sisters, Susan and Bryony. I’d spied on them many times before. There wasn’t much I didn’t know about these girls.
    Nessa was seventeen, Susan a year younger. Susan was plumper than Nessa, with hair the colour of ripe corn. She would have fetched the best price at the slave market. As for Bryony, she was still a child, about eight summers old at the most; cooked very slowly, her flesh would be succulent, even tastier than day-old chicken – though many kobalos would prefer such young flesh raw.
    The truth was that Nessa was worth the least of all, but her sale would allow me to fulfil my duties under the law of Bindos. A trade is a trade, and I always keep my word, so I shrank to human size and, with one almighty blow of my left hand, struck the front door.
    The wood splintered, the house shook, the lock shattered and, with a groan, the old door swung back upon its hinges. Then , without waiting for an invitation, I stepped across the threshold and climbed the wooden stairs.
    NESSA
    I felt ashamed at having left my father like that. I’d left him to die alone. But the terror of seeing the beast so close had overwhelmed me.
    Having reached the safety of the house, I’d locked all the doors and then led Susan and Bryony up to my bedroom. My anguish and terror had rendered me almost speechless, but once there I could keep silent no longer.
    ‘Father’s dead!’ I’d cried. ‘He’s dead – gored by the bull!’
    My sisters both gave wails of grief. We’d climbed up onto the bed and I’d put my arms around them, trying to give what comfort I could. But then we heard the terrifying noises outside the house. They began with three loud raps, quickly followed by a series of terrible blood-curdling howls which made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
    ‘Cover your ears! Don’t listen!’ I urged my sisters. Of course, my arms were still around them so I was forced to endure the terrifying sounds. I thought I heard heavy breathing from outside the window, and for one awful moment it