James countered with a grin. "I could learn, couldn't I? Who knows what can be achieved when you set your mind to it! What is it, Tom? You don't look that happy at the idea of me coming home to live. Is it that?"It's not that, James. It just worries me, that's all. The Pendle witches know where the farm is now. Whatever we do here, it won't be over. It'll never be over. I just don't want to see another brother hurt."Well, it's what Mam wanted, and I'm going to do it. I think the time she spoke of has already come; if there is some sort of enduring threat, then I think I should stand by my brother and his family. Anyways, it might be quite a while before Jack fully regains his strength. It's my duty-that's the way I see it, so my mind's made up."I nodded and smiled. I knew all about duty, and I knew what my brother meant.James pointed down at Mam's trunk. "What have you found in there? Was it worth all the trouble?" he asked."I think so, James. The story of Mam's life is somewhere inside this trunk-but it might take time to work it all out. And there might just be something very powerful; something that we could use to fight the dark. It's got lots of her books in it -some look like diaries; accounts from "when we were children. There's money as well. Would you like to take a look?"
"Oh, yes, please, Tom, I'd really like that," James said eagerly, so I lifted the lid.As he stared at the contents of the trunk with wide eyes, I lifted out one of the bags of money and untied the string before pulling out a handful of guineas."There's a fortune there, Tom!" he gasped. "Has that money been in the house all these years?"Must have been. And those two other bags are full of the same," I replied. "We should split it seven ways-It belongs to all Mam's sons, not just me. Your share could pay for the cost of a forge and keep the wolf from your door until you've gotten established." "That's very generous of you, Tom," James said, looking doubtful and shaking his head, "but if that's what Mam had wanted, she'd have shared it among us herself. No, the fact that it's in the trunk, together with all the other things that'll be useful to you in your trade, means you might need it for something else. Something more important…"I hadn't thought of that. There was a reason for everything Mam did. It needed thinking about some more.James picked up the largest of the leather-bound books, the one that had attracted my eye when I first opened the trunk.
He opened it at a page close to the front."What's this?" he asked, looking puzzled. "It looks like Mam's handwriting, but I can't make moss nor sand of it. It's in a foreign language."It's Mam's language, Greek," I told him."Of course, Tom. I wasn't thinking. But she taught you the language, didn't she? I wonder why she didn't teach me?" For a moment he looked sad, but then his face brightened. "I expect it was because of the trade she wanted you to follow, Tom. She had a good reason for everything and always did things for the best. I don't suppose you could read a little of the book to me? Would you mind? Just a few words…"So saying, he handed me the book, still open at the original page that he'd chosen at random. I glanced at it quickly. "It's Mam's diary, James," I told him before reading aloud, translating from the top.Yesterday I gave birth to a fine healthy don. We will call himJames, a good County name and his father's choice. But my ownsecret name for him shall be Hephaestus, named after the god of the forge. For I see its light in his eyed just as I see the hammer in his hand. I have never been happier. How I wish I could be a mother with young children forever. How dad it id that they mustgrow up and do what must be done.I stopped reading and James looked at me in astonishment.
"And I became a blacksmith!" he exclaimed. "It's almost as if she chose that for me from birth…" "Maybe she did, James. Dad arranged your apprenticeship, but maybe Mam chose your trade. That's certainly what happened in my case."There was something else that I didn't bother to mention. But perhaps, in time, James would realize it for himself. It was the way he had picked the page that referred directly to his birth and name. It was almost as if Mam had reached out from afar and made him choose that page. This was the book that had attracted me, too; the book from which the letter had fallen, telling me what I needed to know about the contents of the other two trunks.If that was the case, it made me realize just how powerful Mam was. She'd prevented the witches from opening the trunks, and now they -were in our hands and protected by her lamia sisters. Thinking that made me more optimistic. The dangers ahead were great, but with a mam like mine behind me and my master at my side, maybe things would all work out in the end.
Chapter XIX
Agnes Sowerbutts
IN the morning Alice cooked us a good breakfast, making the best of the ingredients available. I helped her by cleaning out the pots and pans and peeling and chopping potatoes, car-rots, and turnips. We boiled one of the hams as well, after Alice had sniffed it carefully to make sure that it hadn't been poisoned. "Make the most of this, lad," the Spook told me as I tucked into the steaming stew. "It's the last big meal 'we'll be eating for some time. After this we'll be fasting and getting ready to deal with the dark!"My master hadn't yet outlined his plans for the day, but I was more concerned about something that had kept me awake for much of the night."I'm worried about my family," I told him. "Can't we go to Roughlee and bring them back here? There might be something in Mam's trunk that we can use to cure Jack."The Spook nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, that sounds like a good idea. Best to get them out of Deane territory. It'll be dangerous, but with the girl to guide you I'm sure you'll manage all right."It'll be fine, Tom," Alice agreed. "Don't worry, they're all right-we'll get em back here safe and sound in a couple of hours. And I'm sure there'll be something in the trunk to help your brother."And while you're doing that," said the Spook, "James and I will pay another visit to Downham. Time's getting short, and it seems to me that it would be wise to rally some of the village men and get them back here to the refuge of the tower. We'd be better placed to strike when the need arises. And on our way there, we'll be on the lookout for Wurmalde and young Mab. The first needs binding and putting out of harm's way. The second should have calmed down a bit by now and might just listen to reason."After breakfast I took a clean shirt from my bag and discarded the bloodstained one, glad to be rid of it at last, with the terrible memories it evoked of poor Father Stocks's death.
Less than an hour later we were on our way. With nobody to raise the drawbridge after we'd left, we had to use the tunnel. The Spook took the lead carrying one lantern; Alice brought up the rear, lighting the steps from behind with another. As we descended, everything was silent and deserted, and I noticed that the bodies of the witch and her male companion had been removed from the foot of the stairwell. But once through the lower trapdoor, I sensed a presence. The lanterns revealed nothing, and the only sound was the echo of our footsteps. But the circular hall was large and there were lots of dark shadows beyond the pillars; as we left the steps, the hair on the back of my neck began to rise."What have we here?" asked the Spook, pointing at the farthest of the pillars.He walked toward it, his staff at the ready, lantern raised. I was at his shoulder, my own staff in my left hand, Alice and James close at my heels.At the foot of the pillar was a wooden bucket, and something was dripping into it steadily. Another step forward, and I saw that it contained blood and that it was slowly being filled as we watched.Looking up, I saw that there were chains hanging from the darkness of the ceiling far above, chains that had no doubt been used to bind prisoners while they were tortured or left to die of starvation.
Now those chains had been put to another use. Attached to them at intervals, all the way up into the dark, were small animals: rats, weasels, rabbits, stoats, and the odd squirrel or two. Some were fastened by their tails, others by their legs, but all hung head downward. They had been killed, and their blood 'was dripping into the bucket. It reminded me of a gamekeeper's gibbet: dead animals nailed to a fence, both as a warning and as a display of kills made."It's a grim sight," the Spook said, shaking his head. "But we must be grateful for small mercies. There could be people hanging there."Why have the lamias done that? What's it for?" I asked.The Spook shook his head. "When I find out, lad, I'll write it up in my notebook. Th
is is new to me. I've never dealt with this type of winged lamia before, so we've a lot to learn. It could be that it's just a way of collecting blood together from a lot of small animals to make it amount to a more satisfying meal. Or it could be something that only makes sense to a feral lamia. Year by year our store of knowledge grows, but we must think ahead, lad, and not always expect immediate answers. Perhaps one day you'll finally get a chance to read your mam's notebooks and find the answer there. Anyway, let's move on. We've no time to waste."When he had finished speaking, there came a slight scratching noise from somewhere above. I looked up nervously and heard a click as the Spook released the blade from its recess in his staff.
As we watched, a dark shape scuttled down the pillar toward the arc of light cast by the lanterns. It was one of the feral lamias.The creature had climbed down headfirst. Its wings were folded across its back, and its body was in shadow. Only its head was clearly illuminated. The Spook angled his blade at the lamia, and James stepped forward and raised his huge hammer, ready to strike. The lamia responded by opening its mouth wide and hissing, giving us a glimpse of razor-sharp white teeth.I put down my staff and touched the Spook and James lightly on the shoulder. "It'll be all right. It won't hurt me," I said, stepping between them and moving closer to the lamia.Mam had said the creatures would protect me, even at the cost of their own lives, and I felt that James was safe, too. It was the Spook and Alice that I was worried about. I didn't want it to attack them. Neither did I -want anyone to kill it in self-defense.
"Take care, Tom," Alice pleaded from behind. "Don't like the look of it. Dangerous, ugly thing, it is. Don't trust it, please…"Aye, the girl's right. Be on your guard, lad. Don't get too close," warned the Spook.Despite their warnings I took another step nearer. There were scratch marks on the stone pillar made by the creature's sharp talons. Its eyes were staring straight into my own."It's all right," I told the lamia, keeping my voice calm. "These people are my friends. Please don't hurt them. Just guard them as you would guard me, allowing them to come and go freely as they wish." Then I smiled.For a moment or two there was no response, but then the cruel eyes widened a fraction and the lips parted slightly. It was more of a grimace than a smile. Then, from beneath its body, one of the forelimbs was raised toward me, the nails less than a hand span from my face. I thought it was going to touch me, but quite definitely, the lamia dipped its head in agreement and, still keeping its eyes locked upon mine, scuttled backward up the pillar to be lost in darkness.I heard James let out a big sigh of relief behind me. "Wouldn't want to be in your line of work for anything!" he exclaimed.
"I don't blame you for that, James,'' said the Spook, "but somebody's got to do it. Anyway, let's press on."Alice took the lead now, holding her lantern high, and went into the passageway between the cells. On either side were the unquiet dead. I could sense their anguish, hear their pleading voices. James, not being a seventh son of a seventh son, would be spared that, but I was eager to move on quickly into the tunnel and leave all that pain behind me. However, before we reached the wooden door that led to the outer tunnel, the Spook rested his hand upon my shoulder and came to a halt. "This is terrible, lad," he said softly. "There are spirits in torment here. More trapped together in one place than I've ever encountered before. I can't just leave them like this -"Spirits? What spirits?" James asked, looking around nervously."It's just the spirits of those who died here," I told him. "They're nothing to worry about, but they're in pain and need releasing."
"Aye," said the Spook, "and it's my duty to deal with them now. I'm afraid it's going to take me some time. Look, James, you press on to Downham. You don't need me. In fact, you might find it easier to rally the villagers if I'm not there. Stay overnight and bring as many back here as you can tomorrow. Don't try to use the tunnel -I don't think it'll do much for the villagers' courage to pass through this dungeon. Come straight up to the tower and we'll lower the drawbridge. And another thing -I wouldn't mention the death of poor Father Stocks just yet. It'll be a real blow to the village, not good for their morale. And as for you two" -he looked at Alice and me in turn -"get yourselves off to Roughlee and bring Jack, Ellie, and the child back here to safety. I hope to see you again in a few hours at the most."It seemed to be for the best, so we left the Spook with a lantern as he prepared for the long task of sending the tormented dead of Malkin Tower toward the light. Then we set off along the tunnel, Alice in the lead and James close behind me.Soon we came to the lake, and Alice stepped forward warily, holding her lantern high.
A sudden stench of rotting assailed my nostrils. I felt uneasy. The water had been agitated on my previous visit, but this time it was still and calm, reflecting back the glowing lantern and Alice's head and shoulders like a mirror. Then I saw why.The wight no longer guarded the tunnel. Several pieces of it were floating in the water. The head was close to the far wall. A huge arm was on the nearside bank, the thick, bloodless fingers resting on the muddy path as if attempting to claw their way out of the lake. Alice pointed down at the path. There were footprints on it-but they weren't human. They'd been made by one of the feral lamias."It cleared the way for you, Tom," said Alice. "And unless I'm very much mistaken, we won't have any witches to worry about either."Alice was probably right, but as we skirted the lake, my feeling of unease returned. The wight was clearly destroyed, yet I had a strange feeling that I was being watched.We quickly went past the lake, stepping over the bloated fingers, and continued on our way until we reached the earthen chamber. After standing there for a few moments, listening for danger, we moved on into the final low section of tunnel, 'which forced us down onto our hands and knees. Crawling forward, we found it hard going, but at last we dragged ourselves through onto the bone shelf and into the sepulchre.
As I clambered out, Alice was dusting herself down. She held the lantern aloft, and I glanced across at the empty leg irons in the corner. Dead Maggie was gone, probably freed by her family as they made their escape.We extinguished the lantern, and Alice left it just inside the door of the sepulchre against future need. Outside, we said a quick farewell to James, who headed north toward Downham. Moments later Alice and I were making our way through the trees to Roughlee, a strong wind bending the saplings, the smell of imminent summer rain strong in the air.For a while we walked in silence. The sky grew darker, it began to rain, and I was becoming increasingly uneasy. Although I generally trusted Alice's judgment, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed the height of folly to have left my family with one of the Deanes."This aunt of yours -are you sure she's to be trusted?" I asked. "It must be quite a few years since you last met her. She might have changed a lot since then. Maybe she's fallen under the influence of the rest of her family?"
"Ain't nothing to worry about, Tom, I promise you. Agnes Sowerbutts never practiced as a witch until her husband died. And now she's what people hereabouts call wise. She helps people and keeps her distance from the rest of the Deane clan."I felt better on hearing that. It seemed that Agnes was what the Spook would have termed benign, using her power to help others. When we came within sight of her house, things looked even more promising. It was an isolated, one-story farm cottage at the foot of a slope, on the edge of a narrow track; to the southwest, at least a mile away, chimney smoke from the village rose through the trees."You wait here, Tom," Alice suggested. "I'll just go down and see if everything's all right."I watched Alice descend the hill. By now the dark clouds were pressing lower and the ram increasing in force, so I pulled up the hood of my cloak. The door to the cottage opened before Alice reached it, and she spoke to someone who remained out of sight in the porch. Then she turned and beckoned me down the incline. When I reached the door, she'd already gone inside, but then a voice called to me from the cottage.
"Get yourself inside out of the rain and close the door!"I did as I was told. It -was a woman's voice, a little gruff but also filled with a mixture of kindness and authority. A few paces brought me into a cramped living room with a small fire burning in the gra
te and a kettle close to boiling on the hob. There was also a rocking chair and a table upon which stood a single unlit candle-which, I noted with interest and some relief, was made of beeswax rather than the black wax favored by malevolent witches.The room was cheerful -somehow filled with more light than the tiny front window should have allowed. There were lots of cupboards and row upon row of wooden shelves laden with all manner of jars and odd-shaped containers. Each bore a label on which -was written a word or words in Latin. Without doubt, I was in the presence of a healer.Alice was drying her hair with a towel. Agnes Sowerbutts, standing next to her, only came up to her niece's shoulder but was as wide as she was tall, with a warm smile that welcomed me into her home.
"It's good to meet you, Tommy," she said, handing me another towel. "Dry yourself before you catch cold. Alice has told me a lot about you."I nodded, thanked her for the towel, and made myself smile back out of politeness. I didn't really like being called Tommy, but it hardly seemed worth complaining. I dried my face, concerned that there was no sign of Ellie, Jack, and Mary."Where is my family?" I asked. "Are they all right?"Agnes walked closer and patted my arm in reassurance. "Your family is safe in the next room, Tommy. They're sleeping peacefully. Would you like to see them?"I nodded, and she opened a door and ushered me into a room that contained a large double bed. There were three figures lying on their backs atop the covers -Jack and Ellie, with the child between them. Their eyes were closed, and for a moment a chill ran down my spine and I feared the worst. I couldn't even hear them breathing.
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