The Spook's Apprentice Part 7

I approached the eastern garden carrying the basket. It was dark, but not quite as dark as I'd expected. For one thing, my eyes have always been pretty sharp at night. My mam's always good in the dark and I think I get it from her side. And for another, it was a cloudless night and the moonlight helped me to pick out my way.

As I entered the trees, it suddenly grew colder and I shivered. By the time I reached the first grave, the one with the stone border and the thirteen bars, I felt even colder. That was where the first witch was buried. She was feeble, with little strength, or so the Spook had said. No need to worry there, I told myself, trying hard to believe it.

Making up my mind to give Mother Malkin the cakes in daylight was one thing, but now, down in the garden close to midnight, I was no longer so sure. The Spook had told me to keep well away after dark.

He'd warned me more than once so it had to be an important rule and now I was breaking it.

There were all sorts of faint sounds. The rustlings and twitchings were probably nothing, just small creatures I'd disturbed moving out of my path, but they reminded me that I'd no right to be here.

The Spook had told me that the other two witches were about twenty paces further on, so I counted my steps out carefully. That brought me to a second grave which was just like the first one. I got closer, just to be sure. There were the bars and you could see the earth just beneath them, hard-packed soil without even a single blade of gra.s.s. This witch was dead but was still dangerous. She was the one who had been buried head downwards. That meant that the soles of her feet were somewhere just below the soil.

As I stared at the grave I thought I saw something move. It was a sort of twitch; probably just my imagination, or maybe some small animal - a mouse or a shrew or something. I moved on quickly. What if it had been a toe?

Three more paces brought me to the place I was looking for - there was no doubt about it. Again, there was a border of stones with thirteen bars. There were three differences though. Firstly, the area under the bars was a square rather than an oblong. Secondly, it was bigger, probably about four paces by four. Thirdly, there was no packed earth under the bars, just a very black hole in the ground.

I halted in my tracks and listened carefully. There hadn't been much noise so far, just the faint rustlings of night creatures and a gentle breeze. A breeze so light that I'd hardly noticed it. I noticed it when it stopped though. Suddenly everything was very still and the wood became unnaturally quiet.

You see, I had been listening to try and hear the witch and now I sensed that she was listening to me.

The silence seemed to go on and on for ever, until suddenly I became aware of a faint breathing from the pit. That sound somehow made it possible to move, so I took a few more steps till I was standing very close to its edge, with the toe of my boot actually touching the stone border.

At that moment I remembered something the Spook had told me about Mother Malkin...

* Most of her power's bled away into the earth but she'd love to get her hands on a lad like you .'

So I took a step backwards - not too far, but the Spook's words had set me thinking. What if a hand came out of the pit and grabbed my ankle?

Wanting to get it over with, I called down gently into the darkness. "Mother Malkin,' I said. *I've brought something for you. It's a present from your family. Are you there? Are you listening?'

There was no reply, but the rhythm of the breathing below seemed to quicken. So wasting no more time and desperate to get back to the warmth of the Spook's house, I reached into the basket and felt under the cloth. My fingers closed upon one of the cakes. It felt sort of soft and squishy and a bit sticky. I pulled it out and held it over the bars.

*It's just a cake,' I said softly. *I hope it makes you feel better. I'll bring you another one tomorrow night.'

With those words, I let go of the cake and allowed it to fall into the darkness.

I should have gone back to the cottage immediately but I stayed for a few more seconds to listen. I don't know what I expected to hear but it was a mistake.

There was a movement in the pit, as if something were dragging itself along the ground. And then I heard the witch begin to eat the cake.

I thought some of my brothers made unpleasant noises at the table but this was far worse. It sounded even more revolting than our big hairy pigs with their snouts in the swill bucket, a mixture of snuffling, snorting and chewing mixed with heavy breathing. I didn't know whether or not she was enjoying the cake, but she certainly made enough noise about it.

That night I found it very hard to sleep. I kept thinking about the dark pit and worrying about having to visit it again the following night.

I only just made it down to breakfast on time and the bacon was burnt and the bread a bit on the stale side. I couldn't understand why this was - I'd bought the bread fresh from the baker's only the day before. Not only that, the milk was sour. Could it be because the boggart was angry with me? Did it know what I'd been up to? Had it spoiled the breakfast as some sort of warning?

Working on a farm is hard and that was what I was used to. The Spook hadn't left me any tasks to do, so I'd nothing to fill my day with. I did walk up to the library, thinking that he probably wouldn't mind if I found myself something useful to read, but to my disappointment the door was locked.

So what could I do but go for a walk? I decided to explore the fells, firstly climbing Parlick Pike; at the summit I sat on the cairn of stones and admired the view.

It was a clear, bright day and from up there I could see the County spread out below me, with the distant sea an inviting, twinkling blue, way out to the northwest. The fells seemed to go on for ever, great hills with names like Calder Fell and Stake House Fell - so many that it seemed it would take a lifetime to explore them.

Nearby was Wolf Fell and it made me wonder whether there actually were any wolves in the area.

Wolves could be dangerous and it was said that in winter, when the weather was cold, they sometimes hunted in packs. Well, it was spring now, and I certainly didn't see any sign of them but that didn't mean they weren't there. It made me realize that being up on the fells after nightfall would be quite scary.

Not as scary, I decided, as having to go and feed Mother Malkin another of the cakes, and all too soon the sun began to sink towards the west and I was forced to climb down towards Chipenden again.

Once more I found myself carrying the basket through the darkness of the garden. This time I decided to get it over with quickly. Wasting no time, I dropped the second sticky cake through the bars into the black pit.

It was only when it was too late, the very second it left my ringers, that I noticed something that sent a chill straight to my heart.

The bars above the pit had been bent. Last night they'd been perfectly straight, thirteen parallel rods of iron. Now the centre ones were almost wide enough to get a head through.

They could have been bent by someone on the outside, above ground, but I doubted that. The Spook had told me that the gardens and house were guarded and that n.o.body could get in. He hadn't said how and by what but I guessed it was by some sort of boggart. Perhaps the same one that made the meals.

So it had to be the witch. She must have climbed up the side of the pit somehow and begun working at the bars. Suddenly the truth of what was happening dawned inside my head.

I'd been so stupid! The cakes were making her stronger.

I heard her below in the darkness, starting to eat the second cake, making the same horrible chewing, snuffling and snorting noises. I left the trees quickly and went back to the cottage. For all I knew she might not even need the third one.

After another sleepless night I'd made up my mind. I decided to go and see Alice, give her back the last cake and explain to her why I couldn't keep my promise.

First I had to find her. Straight after breakfast I went down to the wood where we'd first met and walked through to its far edge. Alice had said she lived *yonder' but there was no sign of any buildings, just low hills and valleys and more woods in the distance.

Thinking it would be faster to ask directions, I went down into the village. There were surprisingly few people about, but as I'd expected, some of the lads were hanging about near the baker's. It seemed to be their favourite spot. Perhaps they liked the smell. I know I did. Freshly baked bread has one of the best smells in all the world.

They weren't very friendly considering that last time we'd met, I'd given them a cake and an apple each. That was probably because this time the big lad with piggy eyes was with them. Still, they did listen to what I had to say. I didn't go into details - just told them I needed to find the girl we'd met at the edge of the wood.

*I know where she might be,' said the big lad, scowling fiercely, *but you'd be stupid to go there.'

*Why's that?'

*Didn't you hear what she said?' he asked, raising his eyebrows. *She said Bony Lizzie was her aunt.'

*Who's Bony Lizzie?'

They looked at each other and shook their heads as if I were mad. Why was it that everyone seemed to have heard of her but me?

*Lizzie and her grandmother spent a whole winter here before Gregory sorted them out. My dad's always going on about them. They were just about the scariest witches there've ever been in these parts.

They lived with something just as scary though. It looked like a man but it was really big, with too many teeth to fit into its mouth. That's what my dad told me. He said that back then, during that long winter, people never went out after dark. Some spook you'll be if you've never even heard of Bony Lizzie.'

I didn't like the sound of that one little bit. I realized I'd been really stupid. If only I'd told the Spook about my talk with Alice he'd have realized that Lizzie was back and would have done something about it.

According to the big lad's dad, Bony Lizzie had lived on a farm about three miles south-east of the Spook's place. It had been deserted for years and n.o.body ever went there. So that was the most likely place she'd be staying now. That seemed about right to me, because it was in the direction that Alice had pointed.

Just then a group of grim-faced people came out of the church. They turned the corner in a straggly line and headed up the hill towards the fells, the village priest in the lead. They were dressed in warm clothing and many of them were carrying walking sticks.

*What's all that about?' I asked.

*A child went missing last night,' answered one of the lads, spitting onto the cobbles. *A three-year-old. They think he's wandered off up there. Mind you, it's not the first. Two days ago a baby went missing from a farm over on the Long Ridge. It was too young to walk, so it must have been carried off. They think it could be wolves. It was a bad winter and that sometimes brings them back.'

The directions I was given turned out to be pretty good. Even allowing for going back to pick up Alice's basket, it was less than an hour before Lizzie's house came into view.

At that point, in bright sunlight, I lifted the cloth and examined the last of the three cakes. It smelled bad but looked even worse. It seemed to have been made from small pieces of meat and bread, plus other things that I couldn't identify. It was wet and very sticky and almost black. None of the ingredients had been cooked but just sort of pressed together. Then I noticed something even more horrible. There were tiny white things crawling on the cake which looked like maggots.

I shuddered, covered it up with the cloth and went down the hill to the very neglected farm. Fences were broken, the barn was missing half its roof and there was no sign of any animals.

One thing did worry me though. Smoke was coming from the farmhouse chimney. It meant that someone was at home and I began to worry about the thing with too many teeth to fit into its mouth.

What had I expected? It was going to be difficult. How on earth could I manage to talk to Alice without being seen by the other members of her family?

As I halted on the slope, trying to work out what to do next, my problem was solved for me. A slim, dark figure came out of the back door of the farmhouse and began to climb the hill directly towards me.

It was Alice - but how had she known I was there? There were trees between the farmhouse and me, and the windows were facing in the wrong direction.

Still, she wasn't coming up the hill by chance. She walked straight up towards me and halted about five paces away.

*What do you want?' she hissed. *You're stupid coming here. Lucky for you that those inside are asleep.'

*I can't do what you asked,' I said, holding out the basket towards her.

She folded her arms and frowned. *Why not?' she demanded. *You promised, didn't you?'

*You didn't tell me what would happen,' I said. *She's eaten two cakes already and they're making her stronger. She's already bent the bars over the pit. One more cake and she'll be free and I think you know it. Wasn't that the idea all along?' I accused, starting to feel angry. *You tricked me so the promise doesn't count any more.'

She took a step towards me, but now her own anger had been replaced by something else. Suddenly she looked scared.

*It wasn't my idea. They made me do it,' she said, gesturing down towards the farmhouse. *If you don't do as you promised it'll go hard with both of us. Go on, give her the third cake. What harm can it do? Mother Malkin's paid the price. It's time to let her go. Go on, give her the cake and she'll be gone tonight and never trouble you again.'

*I think Mr Gregory must've had a very good reason for putting her in that pit,' I said slowly. *I'm just his new apprentice, so how can I know what's best? When he gets back I'm going to tell him everything that's happened.'

Alice gave a little smile - the sort of smile someone gives when they know something that you don't.

*He ain't coming back,' she said. *Lizzie thought of it all. Got good friends near Pendle, Lizzie has. Do anything for her, they would. They tricked Old Gregory. When he's on the road he'll get what's coming to him. By now he's probably already dead and six feet under. You just wait and see if I'm right. Soon you won't be safe even up there in his house. One night they'll come for you. Unless, of course, you help now. In that case, they might just leave you alone.'

As soon as she'd said that, I turned my back and climbed the hill, leaving her standing there. I think she called out to me several times, but I wasn't listening. What she'd said about the Spook was spinning around inside my head.

It was only later that I realized I was still carrying the basket, so I threw it and the last of the cakes into a river; then, back at the Spook's cottage, it didn't take me very long to work out what had happened and decide what to do next.

The whole thing had been planned from the start. They'd lured the Spook away, knowing that, as a new apprentice, I'd still be wet behind the ears and easy to trick.

I didn't believe that the Spook would be so easy to kill or he wouldn't have survived for so many years, but I couldn't rely on him arriving back in time to help me. Somehow I had to stop Mother Malkin getting out of the pit.

I needed help badly and I thought of going down to the village, but I knew there was a more special kind of help near at hand. So I went into the kitchen and sat at the table.

At any moment I expected to have my ears boxed, so I talked quickly. I explained everything that had happened, leaving nothing out. Then I said that it was my fault and could I please be given some help.

I don't know what I expected. I didn't feel foolish talking to the empty air because I was so upset and frightened, but as the silence lengthened, I gradually realized that I'd been wasting my time. Why should the boggart help me? For all I knew it was a prisoner, bound to the house and garden by the Spook. It might just be a slave, desperate to be free; it might even be happy because I was in trouble.

Just when I was about to give up and leave the kitchen, I remembered something my dad often said before we went off to the local market: *Everyone has his price. It's just a case of making an offer that pleases him but doesn't hurt you too much.'

So I made the boggart an offer ...

*If you help me now, I won't forget it,' I said. *When I become the next Spook, I'll give you every Sunday off. On that day I'll make my own meals so that you can have a rest and please yourself what you do.'

Suddenly I felt something brush against my legs under the table. There was a noise too, a faint purring, and a big ginger cat strolled into view and moved slowly towards the door.

It must have been under the table all the time - that's what common sense told me. I knew different though, so I followed the cat out into the hallway and then up the stairs, where it halted outside the locked door of the library. Then it rubbed its back against it, the way cats do against table legs. The door slowly swung open to reveal more books than anyone could ever have read in one lifetime, arranged neatly on rows of parallel racks of shelves. I stepped inside, wondering where to begin. And when I turned round again, the big ginger cat had vanished.

Each book had its t.i.tle neatly displayed on the cover. A lot were written in Latin and quite a few in Greek. There was no dust or cobwebs. The library was just as clean and well cared for as the kitchen.

I walked along the first row until something caught my eye. Near the window there were three very long shelves full of leather-bound notebooks, just like the one the Spook had given me, but the top shelf had larger books with dates on the covers. Each one seemed to record a period of five years, so I picked up the one at the end of the shelf and opened it carefully.

I recognized the Spook's handwriting. Flicking through the pages, I realized that it was a sort of diary.

It recorded each job he'd done, the time taken in travelling and the amount he'd been paid. Most importantly, it explained just how each boggart, ghost and witch had been dealt with.

I put the book back on the shelf and glanced along the other spines. The diaries extended almost up to the present day but went back hundreds of years. Either the Spook was a lot older than he looked or the earlier books had been written by other spooks who'd lived ages ago. I suddenly wondered whether, even if Alice was right and the Spook didn't come back, there was a possibility that I might be able to learn all I needed to know just by studying those diaries. Better still, somewhere in those thousands upon thousands of pages there might be information that would help me now.

How could I find it? Well, it might take time, but the witch had been in the pit for almost thirteen years. There had to be an account of how the Spook had put her there. Then, suddenly, on a lower shelf, I saw something even better.

There were even bigger books, each dedicated to a particular topic. One was labelled, Dragons and Wormes. As they were displayed in alphabetical order, it didn't take me long to find just what I was looking for.

Witches.

I opened it with trembling hands to find it was divided into four predictable sections ...

The Malevolent, The Benign, The Falsely Accused and The Unaware.

I quickly turned to the first section. Everything was in the Spook's neat handwriting and, once again, carefully organized into alphabetical order. Within seconds I found a page t.i.tled: Mother Malkin.

It was worse than I'd expected. Mother Malkin was just about as evil as you could imagine. She'd lived in lots of places, and in each area she'd stayed something terrible had happened, the worst thing of all occurring on a moss to the west of the County.

She'd lived on a farm there, offering a place to stay to young women who were expecting babies but had no husbands to support them. That was where she'd got the t.i.tle *Mother'. This had gone on for years, but some of the young women had never been seen again.

She'd had a son of her own living with her there, a young man of incredible strength called Tusk. He had big teeth and frightened people so much that n.o.body ever went near the place. But at last the locals had roused themselves and Mother Malkin had been forced to flee to Pendle. After she'd gone they'd found the first of the graves. There was a whole field of bones and rotting flesh, mainly the remains of the children she'd murdered to supply her need for blood. Some of the bodies were those of women; in each case the body had been crushed, the ribs broken or cracked.

The lads in the village had talked about a thing with too many teeth to fit in its mouth. Could that be Tusk, Mother Malkin's son? A son who'd probably killed those women by crushing the life out of them?

That set my hands trembling so much that I could hardly hold the book steady enough to read it. It seemed that some witches used *bone magic'. They were necromancers who got their power by summoning the dead. But Mother Malkin was even worse. Mother Malkin used *blood magic'. She got her power by using human blood and was particularly fond of the blood of children.

I thought of the black, sticky cakes and shuddered. A child had gone missing from the Long Ridge. A child too young to walk. Had it been s.n.a.t.c.hed by Bony Lizzie? Had its blood been used to make those cakes? And what about the second child, the one the villagers were searching for? What if Bony Lizzie had s.n.a.t.c.hed that one too, ready for when Mother Malkin escaped from her pit so that she could use its blood to work her magic? The child might be in Lizzie's house now!

I forced myself to go on reading.

Thirteen years ago, early in the winter, Mother Malkin had come to live in Chipenden, bringing her granddaughter, Bony Lizzie, with her. When he'd come back from his winter house in Anglezarke, the Spook had wasted no time in dealing with her. After driving Bony Lizzie off, he'd bound Mother Malkin with a silver chain and carried her back to the pit in his garden.