Spook’s: I Am Grimalkin Read Online Free PDF

respite of a night’s sleep.
    There is worse , Agnes said, looking directly at me, her lips moving silently. Your forehead is cut …
    I reached a finger up to my brow and, to my dismay, traced the line of a gash. My finger came away faintly smeared with red. It was little more than a scratch, no doubt inflicted by one of the kretch’s talons. In the heat of the fight I hadn’t felt a thing. I remembered that Agnes had scryed that I would suffer ‘a mortal wound’.
    ‘Surely this small scratch is nothing?’ I said.
    The wound is slight. But poison may have entered your bloodstream. Would you like me to scry again and see the outcome?
    I felt quite well and hardly thought it was necessary, but to please Agnes I nodded, and the image in the mirror faded. I spent the next hour cooking and eating two plump rabbits while I thought about the kretch. Just how cleverly had my enemies crafted the creature? Maybe the glands at the base of its claws secreted a substance that stopped its victims feeling pain? This was a trick employed by some predators so that their prey failed to seek attention for the poisoned wound … until it was too late. But I was still not overly concerned. Filled with new energy, I ran on through the night towards Pendle. I felt strong. I had no symptoms of poisoning at all.
    Not then.
    They began just as the brooding shape of Pendle loomed up out of the murky pre-dawn light.
    It started with a disturbance to my vision. Tiny flashes of light appeared at the corners of my eyes. I had never experienced anything like it before and at first I paid little heed. But gradually the flashes grew worse: I then became breathless and my heart-rate increased. I tried to ignore these symptoms – along with the sack, which seemed to be growing heavier with every stride. Then my legs started to feel unsteady.
    Suddenly I was on my knees as a wave of nausea shook me. I vomited my supper onto the grass and crouched there, retching and gasping for air. After a few minutes my breathing returned to something approaching normal and I struggled to my feet. But when I tried to run, my legs felt like lead and I could only stagger forward a few steps at a time.
    Within minutes my condition began to deteriorate further. Each ragged breath that I sucked desperately into my lungs brought a sharp pain. But I couldn’t afford to stop. I imagined the kretch picking up its pace and loping after me. Even if my progress was slow, every painful step would take me nearer to Pendle. Physically I was exceptionally strong and resilient. My self-belief remained strong too: I was sure that I could fight off the effects of the poison.
    The mirror moved: I took it out and gazed upon the face of Agnes Sowerbutts once more. Her expression was grim and she shook her head slowly.
    The poison is slow-acting but deadly , she mouthed. Without help, you will probably soon be dead. But I cannot tell what will befall you: as I scryed, the mirror went dark .
    There was still room for hope, I thought – a darkening mirror merely meant that things were uncertain.
    ‘Could you help me?’ I asked.
    I’m an old woman and can’t travel to meet you. But if you come here I’ll do my very best to help .
    Agnes was a powerful healer. If I could only reach her cottage …
    I thanked her, then returned the mirror to its sheath. My whole body was shaking now. I tried to deny it but could not escape the truth. I knew I didn’t have the strength to reach the outskirts of the Deane village alone.
    I had always been self-sufficient; mostly I had walked alone. Pride now reared its head up before me, a barrier between me and the help that I needed. Who could I ask anyway? Who could I trust? Above all I needed someone to carry the Fiend’s head and keep it out of the hands of the kretch.
    I had no true ‘friends’ amongst the clans, but there were those I had helped or formed temporary alliances with – witches such as Alice Deane. Unfortunately Alice was too far