Fury of the Seventh Son (Book 13) by Joseph Delaney Read Free Book Online Page A

the dismay on my face.
    Grimoires were books full of dark magic spells. And the most notorious and dangerous of them all was the book Mab had just referred to—the Doomdryte . It contained one very long spell. It had to be recited perfectly, without even the slightest pause for rest or mispronunciation of a single syllable. That task had never been accomplished. Every mage or witch who had attempted the incantation had failed.
    And the price of failure was death.
    I didn’t know what to say. My master and I had found that grimoire in a private library in Todmorden while fighting witches and demons from Romania. I had been unconscious for three days and nights, then confined to my sickbed for two more weeks after almost dying in the grip of Siscoi, the vampire god. While I lay helpless, Grimalkin had killed or driven away the remaining vampiric entities. She said she had searched for the Doomdryte , but in vain. But if what Mab Mouldheel said was correct, I knew exactly what had happened.
    Grimalkin must have found that deadly book, hidden it away, and then taken it to Alice when she emerged from the dark. It was no wonder Alice hadn’t come to see me at Chipenden right away! She’d waited a whole week and then visited me on the edge of the garden without my master present. And she’d told me only half a tale. The Spook and I would have been in full agreement: it was madness to even attempt the incantation. I was hurt, really hurt, by Alice’s failure to confide in me.
    My master considered the Doomdryte to be totally evil. He had wanted to burn it. Alice would surely die attempting such an impossible task. And even if she did succeed, what would be the result? Would it help her destroy the Fiend? My fear was that, in using that evil grimoire, she would finally become a fully fledged malevolent witch.
    Alice would have finally joined the dark.
    â€œDo you know where Alice is now?” I asked Mab. “Could you take me to her?”
    As I uttered these words, I remembered the last time Mab had taken me to her. It had been a trap: Alice had already been a prisoner of the Mouldheels.
    â€œShe’s too well hidden,” Mab retorted. “Must have used an incredibly powerful cloaking spell to hide from me.”
    â€œSo she’s too strong? You can’t scry her whereabouts?”
    It was a measure of Alice’s tremendous power that not even Mab could find her.
    â€œI wouldn’t go looking for her anyway!” snapped Mab. “Me and Alice never did see eye to eye, and she wouldn’t thank me for meddling in her affairs.”
    â€œSo you won’t help?”
    â€œCan’t, and wouldn’t if I could. There’s Grimalkin to worry about, too. It doesn’t do to cross her. Anyway, it’s been nice talking to you, Tom. We’re off to visit the Wardstone. Need to learn the lay of the land so that we’ll know what’s what at Halloween.”
    â€œYou’re wasting your time, Mab. I’d already decided not to carry out the ritual, and now that Alice is using the Doomdryte , I won’t even be there at Halloween.”
    â€œDon’t be so sure about that, Tom. Scrying is difficult—sometimes the future changes from minute to minute—but I do know one thing. Something really big and powerful is going to happen near the Wardstone this Halloween. Creatures of the dark will be drawn to that spot—some to fight for the Fiend, others to oppose him. There’ll be witches of every type, abhumans, and other dark entities. The outcome of that conflict will change the world. And guess what! You’ll be there too. That’s one thing I’m sure of.”
    With that, Mab gave me a wave of farewell, turned her back, and led her grinning sisters off into the trees.
    I stayed in the same spot for quite a while, deep in thought. My instincts told me that Mab was correct in at least one thing. Even without the ritual, something