The Last of the Spirits by Chris Priestley Read Free Book Online

boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.’
    Sam scowled up at the giant, whom he could see now was crowned with a holly wreath that twinkled with icicles, his hair and beard grey with age.
    What manner of creature was this? He looked like a forest giant, some mighty Lord of the Woods. Was he a frost giant, a King of Winter? Sam had no intention of waiting to discover what this colossus had in store for them.
    Lizzie pulled him closer and she and Sam stood up, fists clenched, ready to fight their corner come what may. Punch, kick, scratch and run – that was their code and it had served them well. Scrooge spoke before they could move.
    ‘Have they no refuge or resource?’ he asked hesitantly, looking back and forth between the children and the giant.
    ‘Are there no prisons? said the spirit. Sam grinned bitterly. The giant was feeding the old miser’s words back at him. ‘Are there no workhouses?’
    It was as if Scrooge felt the words and the tone in which they were spoken like a slap across his face and he glanced sideways at Sam and Lizzie, though Sam could see it pained him to hold their gaze.
    At first Sam thought it was the usual disgust, but now he saw it was fear. Scrooge was afraid of them. He didn’t remember them from the street – he thought they were spirits too. He thought they were demons. Maybe we are, thought Sam. Maybe that’s exactly what we are.
    Sam looked at Scrooge’s pinched pale and quivering face but felt no sympathy for him. Quite the reverse. That miserable old scrounger was getting all the attention while he and Lizzie were used like props in a pantomime. And if Marley had been involved in their family’s misfortunes, then was it not likely that his partner had been too? Is that why the spirits had gathered them up?
    Scrooge eyed them warily and backed away a step or two, leaving one of his slippers behind as he did so. Well, thought Sam with a grin, if he thinks we’re demons, then let him . It might come in useful. He took a step towards the terrified Scrooge to try out his new-found power.
    They all started, however, when the church clock began to strike. Lizzie squealed. The din was loud and mournful. The bell sounded as though it was inside their heads.
    Bong. Bong. Bong.
    Sam and Lizzie clamped their hands over their ears, but it made no difference.
    Bong. Bong. Bong.
    The sonorous clanging went on and on until at the twelfth stroke the vibrations died away and were swallowed up in a silence so profound Scrooge and the children assumed they had been struck deaf.
    Suddenly Sam noticed that the giant was no longer with them. Scrooge looked about him as though the spirit might somehow be concealed behind a stone or a clump of thistles. But he seemed to have vanished.
    Sam was quick to regain his wits. This was their chance. Ask the old sinner for money now and he’d give them every penny he had to get rid of them. Scrooge was so shaken he would have pulled out his own teeth if asked. It was all working in their favour. Sam just needed to figure out where they were.
    But as Sam was thinking this he became aware of something moving in the darkness. Lizzie whimpered and Scrooge stared in horror as Sam turned to see a tall, black-robed and hooded figure, a depthless shadow where the face should have been.
    Not something moving in the dark, but darkness moving of itself. It slid noiselessly towards them, floating on a shimmering bed of mist. Sam felt his stomach drop like a stone. Lizzie tried to scream but nothing emerged save a faint hiss.
    ‘Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?’ said Scrooge, his voice trembling along with his shaking legs.
    Sam was impressed the old man could speak at all. The Inquisition with all their thumbscrews could not have pulled words from Sam’s mouth. The black spirit made no reply. All it did was raise its bony arm and point.
    ‘You are about to show me shadows of the things that have