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Authors: William Hussey
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of the device, Master Crowden?’ Esther asked.
‘A little bird told of it. A spy from the Hobarron roost. And that was all that was told: the whisper of a weapon.’
‘Who is the spy?’
‘Ah, now that is my secret … One other thing that may interest you: Quilp managed one last act of cruelty before the Elders took him.’
Crowden waved a hand through the air. In the swirl of cloud that issued from his fingers, Esther could make out the form of a young man. Tattered clothes hung from his stocky frame. He looked frightened, his eyes darting in every direction. His hands had been bound together and there was a scarlet-stained bandage around his neck.
‘His name is Simon Lydgate,’ Crowden said. ‘A friend of Jacob Harker. I had him picked up after I received the news of Quilp’s failure. Mr Pinch had left the boy in a rather desperate state. It’s remarkable he survived.’
‘Why not kill him?’
‘Bloodthirsty as always, my dear. But no, I think young Master Lydgate may prove useful to us. For the time being I will leave him in Grype’s care. And now as to your punishment … ’
A shiver ran the length of Mother Inglethorpe’s body. When Crowden had offered her the task of watching the Harkers, she had thought her failed plan had been forgiven. She ought to have known better. Forbidden knowledge and new spells awaited those that had served Crowden well. Witches that fell short of his expectations were not so lucky.
The Coven Master made a gesture with his forefinger and his black cabinet swept forward. Constructed entirely of wood, it was exactly like any stage magician’s cabinet, except in one respect. This box was alive . The witches of the Coven had often wondered why their master did not appear to have a familiar of his own. Some speculated that, due to his vast experience of witchcraft, he had dispensed with the need for demonic power. Mother Inglethorpe had heard of such witches. In the old days, it was said that they could work spells through the natural magic of the world around them. The magic of the earth, of trees and streams, of the wind and the sea. Esther dismissed these tales as silly nonsense. Even Marcus Crowden needed his demon if he was to work magic.
A demon that took the shape of a wooden box filled with nightmares.
‘Your punishment, madam. You must step inside my cabinet.’
‘Please, Master, I am sorry … ’
‘No tears. Ten minutes in the box is all that I demand. Are you still my faithful servant?’
The door of the cabinet creaked open.
‘Always,’ she murmured.
Mother Inglethorpe stepped into the box.
The door slammed shut.
A moment later, the screams began.
Six Months Later
Chapter 6
Something Nasty in the Boathouse
Jake and Claire Harker stood before the canal tunnel.
Somewhere in the darkness a killer lurked.
‘Come on, Jake,’ Claire grinned, quickening her pace, ‘let’s get home. Your dad won’t be too much longer and then we can eat. What would you like for tea?’
‘Mum, wait … ’
It didn’t feel right—the brightly-lit canal, the chuckling water, the cheeriness of his mother. The whole scene was wrong. Jake held back, stared into the tunnel.
‘Don’t go in there.’
His mum laughed and marched on.
‘NO!’
‘Jake? Are you in there? Are you OK?’
The nightmare dissolved into the bathroom mirror. Jake’s reflection stared back at him. Another flashback. They were becoming rarer, as his therapist told him they would, but they still had the power to terrify him. He ran a basin of icy water and splashed his face. Still shivering, he opened the bathroom door.
Rachel stood outside. She looked at Jake for a moment and then dragged him into an embrace.
‘I heard you were here,’ she said. ‘It’s good to see you.’
Jake could only nod.
Downstairs, the Institute Summer Ball roared on. Glasses chinked, music played, and jokes were batted between friends. There had been an awkward lull when Adam Harker arrived with
‘A little bird told of it. A spy from the Hobarron roost. And that was all that was told: the whisper of a weapon.’
‘Who is the spy?’
‘Ah, now that is my secret … One other thing that may interest you: Quilp managed one last act of cruelty before the Elders took him.’
Crowden waved a hand through the air. In the swirl of cloud that issued from his fingers, Esther could make out the form of a young man. Tattered clothes hung from his stocky frame. He looked frightened, his eyes darting in every direction. His hands had been bound together and there was a scarlet-stained bandage around his neck.
‘His name is Simon Lydgate,’ Crowden said. ‘A friend of Jacob Harker. I had him picked up after I received the news of Quilp’s failure. Mr Pinch had left the boy in a rather desperate state. It’s remarkable he survived.’
‘Why not kill him?’
‘Bloodthirsty as always, my dear. But no, I think young Master Lydgate may prove useful to us. For the time being I will leave him in Grype’s care. And now as to your punishment … ’
A shiver ran the length of Mother Inglethorpe’s body. When Crowden had offered her the task of watching the Harkers, she had thought her failed plan had been forgiven. She ought to have known better. Forbidden knowledge and new spells awaited those that had served Crowden well. Witches that fell short of his expectations were not so lucky.
The Coven Master made a gesture with his forefinger and his black cabinet swept forward. Constructed entirely of wood, it was exactly like any stage magician’s cabinet, except in one respect. This box was alive . The witches of the Coven had often wondered why their master did not appear to have a familiar of his own. Some speculated that, due to his vast experience of witchcraft, he had dispensed with the need for demonic power. Mother Inglethorpe had heard of such witches. In the old days, it was said that they could work spells through the natural magic of the world around them. The magic of the earth, of trees and streams, of the wind and the sea. Esther dismissed these tales as silly nonsense. Even Marcus Crowden needed his demon if he was to work magic.
A demon that took the shape of a wooden box filled with nightmares.
‘Your punishment, madam. You must step inside my cabinet.’
‘Please, Master, I am sorry … ’
‘No tears. Ten minutes in the box is all that I demand. Are you still my faithful servant?’
The door of the cabinet creaked open.
‘Always,’ she murmured.
Mother Inglethorpe stepped into the box.
The door slammed shut.
A moment later, the screams began.
Six Months Later
Chapter 6
Something Nasty in the Boathouse
Jake and Claire Harker stood before the canal tunnel.
Somewhere in the darkness a killer lurked.
‘Come on, Jake,’ Claire grinned, quickening her pace, ‘let’s get home. Your dad won’t be too much longer and then we can eat. What would you like for tea?’
‘Mum, wait … ’
It didn’t feel right—the brightly-lit canal, the chuckling water, the cheeriness of his mother. The whole scene was wrong. Jake held back, stared into the tunnel.
‘Don’t go in there.’
His mum laughed and marched on.
‘NO!’
‘Jake? Are you in there? Are you OK?’
The nightmare dissolved into the bathroom mirror. Jake’s reflection stared back at him. Another flashback. They were becoming rarer, as his therapist told him they would, but they still had the power to terrify him. He ran a basin of icy water and splashed his face. Still shivering, he opened the bathroom door.
Rachel stood outside. She looked at Jake for a moment and then dragged him into an embrace.
‘I heard you were here,’ she said. ‘It’s good to see you.’
Jake could only nod.
Downstairs, the Institute Summer Ball roared on. Glasses chinked, music played, and jokes were batted between friends. There had been an awkward lull when Adam Harker arrived with
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