Spook's Secret (wc-3) (19 page)

    'I've thought of something, Meg' I said, trying my first plan, which was to win her round with words. 'Something that could make things a lot better for both of us. Why don't you give me the run of the house? I could make the fires and bring in the water. I could help a lot. What will you do when Shanks delivers the groceries? If you answer the door, he'll know you're free. But if I answer he'll never guess. And if anyone comes on spooks' business I could just say that he's still ill. If you had me to answer the door, it would be a long time before anybody knew you were free. You'd have plenty of time to decide what to do about Mr Gregory'

    Meg smiled. 'Take your soup, boy.'

    I bent down, lifted the bowl from the tray and helped myself to one of the spoons. When I stood upright, Meg waved me back and started to pull the cell door shut.

    'A good try, boy,' she said, 'but how long would it be before you took advantage and tried to free your master? Not long, I'll bet!'

    Meg locked the door. My first plan had failed already. I'd no choice now but to try the second. I put my bowl of soup on the floor and pulled my key from my pocket. I could hear Meg already turning her own key in the lock of the Spook's cell. I waited, taking a chance, hoping against hope.

    I was right! She went straight into the Spook's cell. I'd guessed that he might be too weak or groggy to be able to stand and come to the door. She might even be going to feed him herself. So, wasting no time, I unlocked my own door, pushed it carefully open and stepped outside. Mercifully it didn't stick and make a noise this time.

    I'd thought everything through carefully, weighing all the risks in my mind. One option would have been to go straight into the Spook's cell and try to deal with Meg. Under normal circumstances, together, my master and I might have been a match for her, but I suspected that the Spook would be too weak to help. And we had nothing to fight her with: no rowan staff and no chain.

    So I'd decided to go and get the silver chain from my bag in the study and try to bind Meg. To achieve that, I was counting on two things. One was that the feral lamia wouldn't scamper up the steps and catch me before I got through the iron gate. The second was that Meg hadn't locked the gate after her. That's why I'd been concentrating hard. The gate had clanged and the heels had started clicking downwards almost immediately afterwards. She hadn't had time to lock it. Or at least, I didn't think so!

    I tiptoed at first, just one step up at a time, and kept glancing back over my shoulder: at the cell, to see if Meg was coming out; then at the corner of the steps to see if feral Marcia was after me. I was hoping that she was still too full after her morning meal. Or that she wouldn't come up from the cellar while Meg was there. Perhaps she was afraid of her sister. She'd certainly gone back down the steps at Meg's command.

    At last I reached the gate and gripped the cold iron. Was it locked? To my relief, it yielded and I pulled it open, trying to keep the movement as smooth as possible. But the Spook had known what he was doing when he'd had it built on the steps. There was a clang and the whole house above seemed to reverberate like a bell.

    Immediately Meg rushed out of the Spook's cell and ran up the steps towards me, her arms raised, fingers splayed and arched like talons. For a moment I froze. I couldn't believe how fast she was moving. Another couple of seconds and it would have been too late, but

    I ran too. Ran and ran without looking back. Right to the top of the steps, then through the house to the kitchen, aware that Meg was close at my heels, hearing her footsteps behind and expecting to feel her nails cut into my skin at any moment. There was no time to go into the study for my bag. I wouldn't have a hope of unfastening it and getting my silver chain out in time. At the back door I snatched up my cloak, jacket and staff, unlocked the door and raced out into the freezing cold.

    I'd been right. It was dusk, but there was still plenty of light to see by. I kept glancing backwards but there was no sign of pursuit. I struggled down the clough as fast as I could manage, but it was hard work. The snow was starting to freeze hard underfoot and there was a lot of it.

    When I reached the bottom of the slope, I halted and looked back again. Meg hadn't followed me. It was bitterly cold and the wind was gusting from the north, so I put my sheepskin jacket on, pulling my cloak over the top. Then I paused for thought, my breath steaming into the cold air.

     I felt like a coward for leaving the Spook behind at the mercy of Meg, and I had to make up for what I'd done. Somehow I had to rescue the Spook and get him out of her clutches. But I needed help to do that. And help was close by: living and working in Adlington was the Spook's brother, Andrew, who'd helped me before in Priestown. He was the locksmith who'd made the Spook a key to the Silver Gate that imprisoned the Bane. Making a key for the iron gate to the Spook's cellar should be far easier. And that was exactly what I needed.

    I was going to have to sneak back into the winter house, get through the gate and let the Spook out of his cell, something that was easier said than done. There was a feral lamia on the loose - not to mention Meg.

    Trying not to think too much about the difficulties ahead, I trudged on through the snow towards Adlington. It was downhill all the way. But soon I'd have to return.

Snowbound

    
T
he cobbled streets of Adlington Village were buried under six inches or more of snow. In the fading light, delighted children were out in force, laughing, screeching and shouting, making slides or hurling snowballs at one another. Other people were less happy. A couple of shawled women passed me, stepping nervously on the snowladen pavement with bowed heads, eyes watching their feet. They were clutching empty baskets and heading down towards Babylon Lane for some last-minute shopping. I followed in the same direction until I reached Andrew's shop.

    As I lifted the latch and pushed open the door, a bell

    tinkled. The shop was empty but I heard someone approaching from the back. There was the
click, click, click
of pointy shoes and, to my astonishment, Alice walked in and came up to the counter, a big smile on her face.

    'Good to see you, Tom! I wondered how long it would take you to find me ...'

    'What are you doing here?' I asked in astonishment.

    'Working for Andrew, of course! Gave me a job
and
a home,' she answered with a smile. T mind the shop so he can have more time in his workshop. Do most of the cooking and cleaning too. He's a good man, Andrew.'

    I fell silent for a moment and Alice must have read the expression on my face because her smile quickly faded and she looked concerned. 'Your dad...' she said.

    'When I got there, Dad had already passed away. I was too late, Alice.'

    I couldn't say any more because my voice failed and a lump came up into my throat. But in an instant, Alice reached across and put her hand on my shoulder. 'Oh,

    Tom! I'm so sorry,' she told me. 'Come through to the back and warm yourself by the fire.'

    The living room was comfortable› with a settee, two comfy armchairs and a generous coal fire blazing in the grate. T like a good fire,' Alice said happily. 'Andrew's more careful with the coal than I am but he's away on a job and won't be back until well after dark. While the cat's away ...'

    I leaned my staff in the corner before sinking into the settee, which faced the fire directly. Instead of sitting down beside me, Alice knelt by the fire, her knees on the hearthrug, so that her left side was towards me.

    'Why did you leave the Hursts?' I asked.

    'Had to get away' Alice said with a scowl. 'Morgan kept pestering me to help him in some way, but wouldn't say exactly how. Got a grudge, he has. Had some sort of a plan to get back at Old Gregory.'

    I thought I probably knew what she was talking about but I decided not to say anything to her. I'd promised Morgan I'd tell no one about his plans. He was a necromancer who used spirits to find things out.

    I couldn't take the chance. I couldn't tell Alice in case he found out and made Dad suffer again.

    'He wouldn't leave me alone' continued Alice. 'That's why I left. Couldn't stand the sight of him one minute longer. So I thought of Andrew. But that's enough about me, Tom. I'm sorry about your dad. Do you want to talk about it?'

    'It was hard, Alice. I even missed Dad's funeral. And Mam's gone off somewhere and nobody knows where she is. She could have gone back to her own land and I might never see her again. I feel so lonely ...'

    'Been lonely most of my life, I have, Tom. So I know what that feels like. We've got each other though, ain't we?' she asked, reaching across to hold my hand. 'We'll always be together. Even Old Gregory won't be able to stop that!'

    'The Spook's in no position to do anything at the moment' I said. 'When I got back, Meg had turned the tables. He's the one locked up now. I need Andrew to make me a key so that I can get the Spook out of there. I need your help. You and Andrew are the only people I can turn to.'

    'Seems to me he finally got what was coming to him' Alice said, pulling her hand away from mine, a faint smile turning up the corners of her mouth. 'Got a good dose of his own medicine!'

    'I can't just leave him there' I told Alice. 'And what about the other lamia? The feral one? Meg's sister? She's out of her pit and free to roam the steps behind the gate. What if she were to get out of the house? She could come down here, to the village. Nobody would be safe and there are a lot of children living here.'

    'But what about Meg?' Alice asked. 'Ain't that simple, is it? Don't deserve to go in a pit. Don't deserve to spend the rest of her life sipping herb tea either! One way or another that's got to stop.'

    'So you're not going to help?'

    'Didn't say that, Tom. It just needs thinking about, that's all.'

    Soon after dark, Andrew returned. I was waiting for him in the shop when he came in.

    'What's this then, Tom?' he asked, stamping the snow from his boots and rubbing his hands together to get the blood circulating properly again. 'What does that brother of mine want now?'

    Andrew always looked like a well-dressed scarecrow, his limbs gangly and awkward, but he was kind and easy-going and really good at his job.

    'He's in trouble again,' I told Andrew. T need you to make a key so we can get him out of it. And it's really urgent.'

    'A key? A key for what?'

    'The gate on the cellar steps in his house. Meg's got him imprisoned down there.'

    Andrew shook his head and clicked his tongue. 'Can't say I'm surprised. It was bound to happen one day. Just astonished that it's taken so long! I always thought Meg would get the better of him in the end. He cares about her too much and always has. He must have let his guard down.'

    'But you will help?'

    'Of course I will. He's my brother, isn't he? But I've been out in the cold most of the day and I can't do much till I've warmed my bones and got some hot food in my belly. You can tell me all about it when we've eaten.'

    I'd not sampled much of Alice's cooking, apart from rabbits cooked in the embers of a fire outdoors, but judging by the appetizing smell of stew wafting in from the kitchen, I was in for a real treat.

    I wasn't disappointed. 'It's really good, Alice,' I said, tucking in right away.

    Alice smiled. 'Aye, better than that muck you fed me in Anglezarke.'

    We laughed, then ate in silence until there wasn't a scrap of food left. It was Andrew who spoke first.

    'I haven't got a key to that gate,' he told me. 'The lock and key were crafted by a locksmith from Blackrod a good forty years ago or more. He's dead now but he'd a reputation second to none, so we're facing a very complex mechanism. I'll need to go to the house and take a look myself. The easiest way would be for me to try and pick the lock and let you through the gate.'

    'Could we go tonight?' I asked.

    'The sooner the better' he said. 'But I'd like to know exactly what we're up against. Where's Meg likely to be?'

    'She usually sleeps in a rocking chair by the fire in the kitchen. But even if we get past Meg safely and through the gate, there's another problem ...'

    So I told him about the feral lamia loose in the cellar. He kept shaking his head as if he couldn't believe just how bad things were.

    'How will you deal with her? Use that silver chain of yours?'

    'I haven't got it' I told him. 'It's in my bag. And the bag's probably still in its usual place in the Spook's study. But I've got my staff. It's made of rowan wood and if I'm lucky it'll keep a lamia at bay'

    Andrew shook his head and didn't look too happy. 'That's hardly a plan, Tom. It's far too dangerous. I can't pick a lock while you fight off two witches. But there is another way' he said. 'We could get a dozen or so of the men from the village to go with us and sort out Meg once and for all.'

    'No' Alice said firmly. 'That ain't the way. It's too cruel.'

    I knew she was remembering when the mob from Chipenden had attacked the house where she'd been living with her aunt, Bony Lizzie. Alice and her aunt had sniffed them out and just had time to escape, but everything had gone up in flames and they'd lost all their possessions.

    'Mr Gregory wouldn't want that, I'm sure of it' I said.

    'That's true enough' Andrew said. 'It's the safest way, but John would probably never forgive me. All right, looks like we're back to the first plan.'

    'Here's something you ain't thought of' Alice said. 'A witch like that can't sniff
you
out at a distance, Tom. Don't work on a seventh son of a seventh son, do it? Most likely I'd be all right too - that's if I do decide to go with you. But Andrew's different. Once he approaches the house she'll sniff him out and be ready'