Free The Spook's Blood (Wardstone Chronicles) by Delaney Joseph Page A

I’d have trusted him with my life. But folks can change  . . . ’
    ‘There’s something else too,’ I told him. ‘She saw you holding the
Doomdryte
and I’ll swear that, for a moment, she looked furious.’
    ‘Then let’s see how she reacts tomorrow when we tell her it’s one of the books we’ve selected.’

 
    WE LEFT BENT Lane, made our way down to the riverbank, crossed the bridge and walked on until we reached the tavern. The sun was an orange orb sitting on the horizon, but it was already closed and locked. The Spook hammered on the front door with his staff several times. It was a while before the innkeeper unlocked it. He glanced towards the setting sun.
    ‘Another five minutes and you’d have been too late,’ he remarked. ‘And you’re certainly too late for supper.’
    ‘We’ve eaten already,’ my master told him. ‘Two rooms will do. And we’d like breakfast at the crack of dawn.’
    Muttering to himself, the landlord locked and bolted the door behind us and then showed us to our rooms. As he was about to leave us, the Spook asked him a question.
    ‘We hope to conclude our business with Mistress Fresque tomorrow and need to transport quite a large quantity of books. Do you know of anyone who might have a horse and cart for hire?’
    The man scowled and shook his head. ‘Nobody this side of the river will want to cross that bridge. We keep ourselves to ourselves.’
    Before we could question him further, he left the room, still muttering under his breath.
    ‘Well, that’s a job for you tomorrow, lad. But first you can come up to the house and help me make a final choice.’
    We retired to our own rooms, and it wasn’t long before I drifted off into a dreamless sleep. However, for some reason I kept waking up. It seemed a very long night.
     
    We had to wait over an hour for our breakfast because the innkeeper didn’t rise until the sun was well up over the horizon.
    The Spook wasn’t best pleased but he didn’t complain. We left our bags in our rooms and, clutching our staffs, were soon walking up Bent Lane once more.
    ‘The service at the tavern isn’t very good,’ I remarked.
    ‘That’s very true, lad,’ my master replied. ‘But we have to make allowances. The innkeeper is a frightened man. I’m beginning to think that there’s some threat from the dark on this side of the river. Or maybe there has been in the past. I’d like to get back to Chipenden with the books as soon as possible , but I think we should pay Todmorden another visit in the very near future.’
    When Mistress Fresque showed us to the library, there was something a little colder or perhaps more hesitant in her manner. I looked about me and for a moment I grew dizzy. The feeling passed very quickly, but for a moment the shape of the room had appeared to change – along with the atrium. Yesterday I could have sworn it was a perfect circle. Today it looked more like an oval. Was I imagining it? I was probably just tired, I thought – I hadn’t slept well.
    She gestured at the table. ‘You are going to make your final selection from these?’ she asked.
    ‘Mostly,’ said the Spook, ‘but we’ll examine the shelves once more just in case we’ve missed anything.’
    ‘I’m sorry, but there is a book here that I cannot allow to leave the library.’ She pointed to the
Doomdryte
, which she had set apart from the rest.
    ‘I’m sorry too,’ said my master with a frown. ‘But I must have the
Doomdryte
at all costs. It’s an extremely dangerous book and one that must not fall into the wrong hands. I would buy it in order to destroy it. If it is the price that bothers you, I am willing to pay a great deal of money to take it away from here. But once again I’d have to stagger my payments.’
    Mistress Fresque smiled. ‘With reference to that book my hands are tied. In my uncle’s will there is a codicil that lists the books which must always remain in this collection. That book is on the list.