Free Spook’s: I Am Grimalkin by Joseph Delaney Page A

flames reaching up to his knees; he was tall and broad – perhaps three times the size of an average man – with a long sinuous tail and the curved horns of a ram. His body was covered in thick black hair, and I saw the coven witches reach forward across the flames, eager to touch and stroke their dark lord.’
    ‘How did you feel?’ Thorne asked excitedly. ‘Were you nervous, or even a little afraid? I certainly would have been! You say now that you fear nothing, but you were young then – no more than seventeen – and you were about to attack the Fiend within sight of an enemy clan.’
    ‘I was certainly nervous, child, but also excited and angry. If there was fear within me, it was buried so deeply under those other emotions that I was unaware of it. I knew that the Devil would not stay in the flames for long. I had to strike now! So I left my hiding place among the trees and began to sprint towards the fire. I came out of darkness, a blade in each hand, a third gripped tightly between my teeth. I hated the Fiend and was ready to die, either blasted by his power or torn to pieces by the Deanes.
    ‘So I cast my will before me. Although I had the power to keep him away, I did the opposite now: I willed him to stay. I ran between those on the fringe of the gathering. As the throng became denser, I pushed the witches aside with my elbows and shoulders, surprised and angry faces twisting towards me. At last I reached the coven and threw my first dagger. It struck the Fiend in the chest and buried itself up to the hilt. He shrieked long and loud. I’d done some damage, and his cry of pain was music to my ears. But he twisted away through the flames so that my next two blades did not quite find their intended targets; but, even so, they pierced his flesh deeply.
    ‘For a moment he looked directly at me, his pupils vertical red slits. I’d nothing with which to defend myself against the power that he could summon. Worse, he would now be certain to find me after my death and inflict never-ending torments on my soul. So I willed him away. Would he go? I wondered. Or would he destroy me first? But he simply vanished, taking the flames of the fire with him so that we were plunged into absolute darkness. The rule had held. I had carried his child so he could not remain in my presence; not unless I wished it.
    ‘There was confusion all around – shrieks of anger and fear; witches running in all directions. I slipped away into the darkness and made my escape. Of course I knew that they would send assassins after me. It meant I’d have to kill or be killed.
    ‘I hurried north, passing beyond Pendle Hill, then curved away west towards the distant sea, still running hard. I knew exactly where I was going, having planned my escape far in advance: I would make my stand on the flatlands east of the River Wyre’s estuary. I had wrapped myself in a cloak of dark magic but knew that it was not strong enough to hide me from all those who followed me. Some witches have a special ability that allows them to see through such a cloak, so I needed to fight in a place that would give me the advantage.
    ‘There is a line of three villages there, aligned roughly north to south and joined by a narrow track that sometimes becomes impassable because of the tide. On all sides they are surrounded by bog and soggy moss. The river is tidal, with extensive salt marshes, and northwest of Staumin, right on the sea margin, stands Arm Hill, a small mound of firm ground which rises above the grassy tussocks and treacherous channels along which the tide races to trap the unwary.
    ‘On one side is the river, on the other, the salt marsh, and nobody can cross it without being seen from that vantage point. Any witch who ventures there suffers great pain, but I gritted my teeth and made the crossing and waited for my pursuers, knowing there would be more than one.
    ‘My crime against the Deane clan was terrible. If they caught me, I would die slowly and