The Spook's Sacrifice Read Free Page B

Anglezarke I'd learned a lot about them.
    I continued to read, making brief notes as I did so. It
was very useful revision. There was a reference to the
flying lamias, called vaengir, which the Spook had
mentioned earlier. My thoughts turned to Mam. Even
as a young child I'd known that she was different. She
had a slight accent, which marked her out as someone
who'd not been born in the County. She shunned direct
sunlight and during the day often had the kitchen
curtains closed.
    Over time my knowledge of Mam had grown. I'd
learned how Dad had come to her rescue in Greece.
    And then later she'd told me that I was special, a
seventh son of a seventh son and her gift to the County,
a weapon to be used against the dark. But the final
pieces of the puzzle were still missing. What exactly was Mam?
    Mam's sisters were vaengir – flying feral lamias
who, as the Spook had just explained, were only rarely
found beyond the Ordeen's portal. They were now in
Malkin Tower, guarding her trunks, which contained
money, potions and books. It seemed to me that Mam
must also be a lamia. Probably vaengir too. That
seemed most likely.
    It was another mystery I needed to solve – though I
couldn't just ask her outright. It seemed to me that
Mam had to tell me herself. And I might find out the
answer very soon.
    Late in the afternoon, given a few hours off by the
Spook, I went for a stroll on the fells: I climbed high
onto Parlick Pike, watched the shadows of clouds
slowly drifting across the valley below and listened to
the lapwings' distinctive peewit calls.
    How I missed Alice! We'd spent many a happy hour
strolling up here with the County spread out below.
Walking alone just wasn't the same. I was impatient
now for the week to pass so the Spook and I could set
off for Jack's farm. I was really looking forward to seeing
Mam and finding out what she wanted from me.

CHAPTER
3
A CHANGELING?

    On the morning we were due to set off, I walked
down into Chipenden village to pick up the
Spook's weekly provisions from the baker, the greengrocer
and the butcher – after all we would only be
away a few days. At the last shop I told the proprietor,
a large red-bearded man, that if anyone came on
spook's business and rang the bell at the withy trees, it
would have to wait.
    As I walked back through the village, my sack was
lighter than usual because of the food shortages. To the
south of the County the war was still raging and the
reports were bad. Our forces were retreating and so
much food was being taken to feed the army that the
poorest people were close to starvation. I noted that in
Chipenden conditions had deteriorated further. There
were more hungry faces, and some houses had been
abandoned, the families travelling north in the hope of
a better life.
     
    The Spook and I set off at a good pace, but even though
I was carrying my staff and both our bags as usual, I
didn't mind at all. I just couldn't wait to see Mam.
After a while though, as the morning began to warm
up, the Spook slowed down. I kept getting ahead and
having to wait for him to catch up. He began to get
rather irritated with me.
    'Slow down, lad! Slow down!' he complained. 'My
old bones are struggling to keep up. We've set off a day
early – your mam won't arrive until midsummer's eve
anyway!'
    Late in the evening of the second day, even before
we reached the summit of Hangman's Hill, I saw
smoke rising into the sky from the direction of the
farm. For a moment fear clutched at my heart.
I remembered the raid carried out by the Pendle
witches last year: they'd burned our barn to the
ground before ransacking the house and abducting
Ellie, Jack and little Mary.
    But as we began our descent through the trees
towards the north pasture, what I saw was more a
cause for wonder than fear. There were campfires to
the south of the farm – a dozen or more – and smells
of wood smoke and cooking were in the air. Who
were those people camping in Jack's fields? I knew
he wouldn't welcome