prepared,” said Arthur. “Besides, it will be a good test to see how much more I get contaminated.”
“Arthur—” Leaf started to say, but Arthur was already focusing on his questions for the Atlas.
What is a Spirit-eater? How can the one that has copied me be defeated? Where is its lair?
The questions had hardly formed in his mind before the Atlas burst open, expanding to become a much larger book, it pages fluttering like a wind-caught fan. When it reached its full size, the pages settled down and an invisible hand began to write. The first few letters were in a strange alphabet of straight lines and dots, but they shimmered as Arthur watched, turning into the stylish English characters of a fine calligrapher.
Everyone watched Arthur as he stared down at the Atlas. Suzy chose this moment to sneak across the room from one of the side doors where she’d been listening, sidling over to sit down on the floor behind Monday’s Noon, so Dame Primus couldn’t see her.
For the benefit of the others, Arthur read the entry aloud, with some difficulty because he wasn’t used to reading the old-fashioned writing. Many of the words were not ones he’d used before.
“Spirit-eater” is a term often used to describe one of a type of Nithlings that are close to Denizen-class, known as Near Creations, for they utilise some of the technical sorcery used by the Architect herself to create life from Nothing, while lacking Her artistry.
A Spirit-eater is always based upon one of the Architect’s own creations, either directly, as in a copied Denizen, or indirectly, in the case of a copied mortal, the current end result of the Architect’s ancient experiment with the evolution of life.
The purpose of a Spirit-eater, in either case, is to replace an original, usually for the purposes of espionage, treachery or other foul deeds. In order to do so, the Spirit-eater will, to most onlookers, appear to have the physical appearance of its target. Its true face and form may be seen by gazing at it through a veil of raindrops on a sunny day or by application of various sorceries.
Initially, the Spirit-eater will have limited knowledge of its subject, no more than it has been told by its creator. However, part of the spell used to grow a Spirit-eater in Nothing also develops other powers within the Nithling. It is able to extrude its mentality into any sentient mind that it has physical contact with, by the use of a mentally conductive mould that is symbiotic with the Spirit-eater. The mould, derived from a semi-intelligent life form from a world in the Secondary Realms (House Name: Avraxyn; Local Name:
“I can’t read the local name—”
Leaf was shaking her head, but it wasn’t at Arthur’s inability to read the alien name.
“A mentally conductive what? What did you say? It grows mould on people?”
“That’s… that’s what it says here,” said Arthur, who had only just realised what he was reading. He’d been concentrating so hard on getting the words right.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Leaf, with a shudder. “How do you stop it from doing that?”
“I’ll… I’ll see what the Atlas says,” said Arthur. He continued reading.
The mould enters its victim through skin, scales or hide once the Spirit-eater has provided a bridge by means of shaking hands, gripping a shoulder or such-like. Its spores are a grey colour, but they linger on the skin for only minutes, so the target is usually unaware it has been colonised. The mould travels through the blood, eventually lodging itself in the target’s brain or other major sensorium. At this location it rapidly spreads, duplicating the nervous tissue until it is able to sift through the target’s thoughts and memory, telepathically sharing them with the greater part of the mould that lies within the Spirit-eater’s own secondary brain, usually located in its mid-section. The Spirit-eater uses these memories and thoughts to better mimic the target it has replaced. It is able to control the minds of those subjects where the mould is well-established, but not with great precision.
The influence of the mould is also felt in the behaviour of the Spirit-eater. In its natural state on Avraxyn, the mould always establishes a lair where it locates its primary host safe from harm. In the Spirit-eater, the mould is subordinate and must go where the Spirit-eater wills, but it will always influence the Spirit-eater to establish a lair. This will be dark and as deep in the ground as is practical for the Spirit-eater to easily access. It will be lined with soft materials, and somewhere in it will be the original seed item from which the Spirit-eater has been grown. This is usually a bone, piece of flesh, item of clothing, treasured personal possession or long-term pet or companion of the victim.
“That’s really foul,” said Leaf.
“I’ve known worse,” muttered a voice from somewhere under the table. Dr Scamandros looked round, but either no one else heard Suzy’s comment or they were well-practised at ignoring her.
“It’s writing more,” said Arthur. The page cleared and the invisible hand wrote on.
The particular Spirit-eater that has duplicated Lord Arthur has chosen to call itself the Skinless Boy, perhaps because in its natural appearance it does not have very much skin, instead showing exposed bone. It may be defeated by taking its seed item, the pocket from Lord Arthur’s school shirt. Lord Arthur must plunge that pocket back into Nothing.
At present, 10.20 am local Earth Arthur time on Thursday, the Skinless Boy has established a temporary lair in the primary linen closet of East Area Hospital on Lower Ground Three. If the Spirit-eater moves to Arthur’s home, it is most probable that it will establish its lair in the sump cavity beneath the house, which can be accessed by raising a concrete slab in the garden near the back fence.
“What was that about Thursday?” asked Leaf. “What’s Arthur time?”
Arthur read it again.
“It shouldn’t be Thursday back home! We need to get back on Wednesday afternoon! How can it be Thursday?”
“Time is malleable between the House and the Secondary Realms,” said Dr Scamandros. “But powerful personages such as yourself, Lord Arthur, affect and govern the relative flows. I can only surmise that the Spirit-eater, having something of your quality, has taken your place for chronological purposes. In… ah… other words, you are back.”
“But what about Leaf? Can she go back to Wednesday?”
“I would say not,” said Dr Scamandros. “But I am no expert in these relativities. Perhaps Sneezer may know more, from the Seven Dials.”
“Without putting it to the test, sir, I cannot say,” said Sneezer. “However, as a general rule the temporal relationship between a Secondary World and the House is set by the Front Door and defies explication. It presumably thought you had returned to your Earth and did not miss Miss Leaf, if you pardon me saying so. Therefore, the earliest Miss Leaf can return is twenty minutes past ten on Thursday. If it is still that time. More orange juice?”
“But that means I’ll have been missing all night!” Leaf couldn’t believe it. “My parents will kill me!”
