Letter 8

Poppy,

I can't believe it! I killed the wraith!

So I went down to the vaults first thing in the morning again, before breakfast. All the way down to sublevel 19. I'd wrapped the spirit bound bottle inside several cloths, inside a pouch, and hung this around my neck, under the cloak. That was a bad idea. If I thought the boot didn't want to be stored, that was nothing compared to this bottle. It was icy cold, biting my skin even through all of the layers.

Though the temperature was pleasant compared to sublevel 17, an unnatural wind tore through sublevel 19. It was a struggle to stay on my feet once I opened the well warded door. I staggered against the wind to move deeper into the vault and the poor gorble gripped my shoulder with his claws so tight that he ripped my cloak. I can't blame him though, the poor little guy didn't stand a chance against that relentless gust.

Again this vault was lined with alcoves, though the magelight here was so low it was difficult to see more than a few metres away. I braced my body against the wind and pushed through until I found an empty alcove, number 273 to be exact. This time I managed to make it out of the vault easily, being shunted and pushed by the wind until the door slammed shut behind me and I leant against it catching my breath. I was feeling quite proud of myself, until I was back on the staircase at least.

I'm not sure if it was a mistake or not, but I peered down the stairs, instead of walking straight up and back to safety. It was the lowest level of the vault I'd been to, so I guess I was just curious. But I could see a shadow swaying in and out of the dim magelight down there.

My next mistake was not to check the gorble’s ears, because I'm sure they would have been glowing a faint yellow to orange, urging me to be cautious. But I went down to the next level anyway, and that's where it was waiting for me.

In the dim glow of light I could just make out its skeletal form, and the deep, oily shadows beneath its hood. I was rooted to the spot when it dropped to the floor and started to edge towards me on all fours. Its breath was raspy as it seemed to be trying to talk.

I tried to move but couldn't. If the gorble was flapping, I couldn't feel it. Everything else in the world seemed to have vanished, leaving only the wraith, getting closer and closer. Its breath rattled.

I felt certain that there was no hope, no point in fighting but the gorble shrieked in panic, snapping me back to myself. Breaking whatever spell I was under.

As the wraith crept closer I withdrew the dagger from beneath my cloak and though my hands wobbled I felt brave. I wasn't going to let this little gorble down. Just as it reached up towards me I plunged the dagger down, into the space beneath the hood. The wraith let out a bloodcurdling scream as it writhed in pain. And then it was gone. Just a pile of ash remained.

I don't know how long I stayed on that staircase, heart pounding. I came straight back to my room, cradling the gorble in my hands, trying to soothe the poor guy. Some more wormy treats seemed to do the trick. I've decided to name him Magnar, since he saved my life.

I'm not sure how the wraith left sublevel 17, or if there's more than one. But now I've faced one, and won, I'm not quite as scared as before.

I won't tell the Chief Librarian what really happened. She already thinks I'm dangerous and if she finds out I took the dagger from the armoury, she will definitely confiscate it. I’ll need it if there are more of them down there.

Your dearest friend

Willow