Then I descended the hill cautiously. There was a chance that someone was still inside the cottage, someone who'd been there all along. I mean, would they go off and leave Alice unguarded? It seemed very unlikely.When I reached the door, I unlocked it with the special key Andrew had given me.I eased the door open slowly and stepped directly into a cluttered kitchen. By the light of three black wax candles, I saw that the sink was heaped with unwashed plates and pots and the flagged floor was littered with animal bones and splattered with congealed fat and grease. As I closed the door gently behind me, my eyes darted around the room, alert for danger. It seemed deserted, but I didn't move. I just leaned back against the door, the stink of rancid fat and rotting food in my nostrils, and breathed slowly to calm my nerves, listening very carefully all the while.
The rest of the cottage sounded empty, but it was almost too silent. It seemed hard to believe that Alice would make no sound at all. At that thought, my heart began to hammer in my chest again and my throat tightened with fear. What if she'd already been killed? What if the man had brought her into the house for just that purpose?The horror of that thought started me moving. I would have to check each room in turn. It was a small single-story cottage, so there was no upstairs to investigate. The inner door opened into a tiny, cramped room; on the bed were creased, dirty sheets, and another black candle flickered on the window ledge. There was no sign of Alice. Where could she be?Beyond the bed, set into the far wall, was another door. I turned the handle, eased it open, and stepped through to find myself in the living room.One glance told me that I wasn't alone! To my right was the hearth, where the embers of a coal fire gleamed. But directly facing me, sitting hunched at a table, was a witch with wild eyes and a mass of frizzy white hair. In her left hand was a candle stub with a flickering flame that gave off a lot of smoke. Instinctively I raised my staff as her mouth opened and she began to shout, shaking her fist toward me.
But there was no sound, and instantly I realized that the witch wasn't actually in the room with me. I was looking into a large mirror. She was using it to watch from a distance.How far off was she? Miles away or close at hand? Wherever she was, using another mirror, she might well be able to tell the Mouldheels that there was an intruder in the cottage. How long before somebody returned?Below the mirror and to my left I could see narrow steps leading down into the darkness. There must be a cellar. Could Alice be down there?Quickly I pulled my tinderbox and a candle stub from my breeches pockets. Moments later, ignoring the witch, who was still ranting silently in the mirror, I was on my way down the steps, candle in my right hand, staff in my left. There was a locked door at the bottom, but my key made short work of that. I eased it open and let the candle illuminate the room.Relief washed over me as I saw Alice sitting with her back against the wall next to a heap of coal. She seemed unhurt.
She looked up, opening her mouth to speak, fear etched into her face. Then she recognized me and sighed with relief."Oh, Tom! It's you. I thought they were coming to kill me."It's all right, Alice," I told her. "I'll have you free in a minute."I knelt down, and it really was but the work of a moment to unlock the padlock with my key and ease the chains from Alice's legs. So far things were going really well. But when I helped her to her feet, she was shaking and still seemed fearful. It was then that I realized there was something odd about the cellar. It was too bright. One candle shouldn't have lit it so well.As I came to my feet, I saw why. Fastened to each of the four walls, at about the height of my own head, was a large mirror set in an ornate black wooden frame. The mirrors were reflecting the candle back, intensifying the light.
But then, to my horror, I saw something else: In each mirror was a face staring out at me, eyes filled with spite.Three were women -witches with wild, malevolent eyes and thick, unkempt hair -but the fourth looked like a child. And it "was that fourth image that held my gaze, fixing me to the spot so that I felt unable to move. The head was small-that's why I'd assumed it was a boy-but the features were those of a man, completely bald and with a hooked nose. For a moment the image was still, frozen in time like a portrait, but as I watched, the mouth widened like an animal's jaws getting ready to savage its prey. The teeth within were razor-sharp needles.Who or what it was I had no idea, but it scared me badly -I had to get out of that cellar. All four figures were watching us. They now knew that I'd released Alice. I blew out the candle and returned it to my pocket.
"Come on, Alice," I said, seizing her hand. "Let's get away from here!"With those words I began to lead her up the steps, but either she was afraid to go or was weakened in some way because, as I climbed, she seemed to drag and her hand tried to pull me back."What are you doing, Alice?" I demanded. "They could be back at any moment!"Alice shook her head. "Ain't that easy. Did more than just chain me. Bound here, I am. Won't get much farther than the yard anyway…"A spell of binding?" I asked, halting and turning to face her on the steps. I already knew the answer. Mab had said she was bound -she obviously hadn't been lying.Alice nodded, her face desperate. "There's a way to get me free of it, but it ain't going to be easy. Not easy at all. Got a lock of my hair, they have. Twisted back on itself. It needs to be burned. That's the only way -"Where will it be?"Mab has it 'cause she cast the spell."We'll talk outside," I said, pulling Alice up again.
"Don't worry, I'll find a way."I tried to sound cheerful, but my heart was sinking toward my boots. What hope had I of getting the lock of hair away from Mab, with so many others to help her?Somehow, by pulling and tugging, I managed to get Alice to the top of the cellar steps. The witch was no longer peering out through the mirror. Was she on her way here now? We got through the bedroom and the kitchen and reached the back door, but when I opened it, my heart sank even lower. I could hear angry voices some distance away but getting nearer by the second. We began crossing the yard to the gate that led to the track at the front of the house. Alice was really trying, but she was gasping merely with the effort of walking, and beads of sweat were erupting on her brow. Suddenly she came to a halt."Can't go any farther!" she sobbed. "Can't take another step!"I'll carry you!" I told her.
"Mab said you're bound for a hundred paces. If I can get you beyond that, maybe you'll be all right." And without waiting for a reply I caught her by the legs and heaved her up onto my right shoulder. Gripping my staff in my left hand, I went through the open gate, crossed the track, then plunged through the fast-flowing stream to the far bank. Now I felt better. Witches couldn't cross running water, so I'd put a barrier between us and pursuit. They'd have to find a different route, maybe going miles out of their way. It had given us a head start back to Downham.It was hard carrying Alice, and she kept moaning as if in pain. So I called out to her, "Are you all right, Alice?"Her only reply was to give another groan, but there was nothing for it but to keep moving, so I gritted my teeth and strode on, heading north, with Pendle Hill on my left. I knew I would soon reach Witch Dell, so I moved to my right, farther east, hoping to give it as wide a berth as possible. Soon I came upon another stream. Hearing no sounds of pursuit, I eased Alice from my shoulder and down onto the grass at the water's edge. To my dismay, her eyes were closed. Was she asleep or unconscious?I called her name several times but received no response. I tried shaking her gently, but that did no good either. So, growing more concerned by the moment, I knelt down beside the stream, cupped my hands, and filled them with cold water. Next I allowed the water to drip and then flow onto Alice's forehead. She gave a gasp and sat up straight, her eyes wild and fearful."It's all right, Alice. We've gotten away. We're safe -"Safe? How can we be safe? Come after us, they will. Won't be far behind."No," I told her. "We forded the stream on the other side of the track. It's running water, so they can't cross."
Alice shook her head. "Ain't that easy, Tom. Most witches ain't stupid. Lots of streams flow down that big ugly hill over there," she said, pointing toward Pendle. "Would witches live where it was so difficult to get from place to place? They have ways and means, don't they? They've built 'witch dams' in places w
here they're really needed. Turn a handle and pulleys lower a big wooden board down into the water, cutting off the flow from upstream. Of course, it don't take water that long to back up and flow around the board, but it's more than enough time to allow a few witches to cross. They won't be that far behind, if I'm not mistaken!"No sooner had Alice finished talking than I heard someone shout from beyond the trees to our rear.
It sounded like they were on our trail all right, and closing in."Can you walk?" I asked.Alice nodded. "Think so," she said, so I gripped her hand and helped her to her feet. "Carried me out of range of the binding, you did. It hurt a lot, but I'm almost free now. Though Mab's still got that lock of my hair. Dread to think what other mischief she could get up to, using that. She has the advantage of me there, all right!"We carried on north toward Downham. At first Alice seemed to find it difficult to walk, but with every step she appeared to grow a little stronger, and soon we were making reasonable progress. The trouble was, the sounds of pursuit,were gradually getting closer. They were gaining on us.As we climbed to the edge of Downham Moor and entered a small wood, Alice suddenly put her hand on my arm and brought us to a halt."What is it, Alice? We've got to keep going-"Something ahead, Tom. There's a dead witch heading this way."
I saw a hunched figure moving directly toward us through the trees, feet shuffling through last autumn's soggy leaves. It would be one of the really strong witches who were able to leave the dell and hunt for prey. The witch was heading in our direction, but she didn't seem to be moving very fast. We couldn't go back because the Mouldheels weren't too far behind, but we could move to the right or the left and give her a wide enough berth. But when I tried to lead Alice off the path, she put her hand on my arm again."No, Tom. It'll be all right. I know this witch. It's old Maggie Malkin. She's family. They hanged her at Caster three years ago but let us bring her home for burial. Didn't bury her though, did we? Carried her to the dell where she'd have company. And here she is now. Wonder if she'll remember me. Don't worry, Tom. This could be just what we need…"I moved away from Alice and readied my staff. I didn't like the look of the dead witch one little bit. Her long dark gown was slimy and covered in patches of mold. There were leaves stuck to it-no doubt she buried herself under the trees to sleep away the daylight hours. Her eyes were open, but they bulged from their sockets as if about to pop out onto her cheeks, and her neck was too long, with her head twisted round to the left. And where the moonlight dappled through the trees, there was a faint silver trail behind her, the kind that a slug or snail leaves in its wake."Good to see you, Cousin Maggie," Alice called out in a cheerful voice.At that, the dead witch came to a halt. She was now no more than five paces away."Who speaks my name?" she croaked."It's me, Alice Deane. Don't you remember me, cousin?"My memory ain't what it used to be," sighed the witch. "Come closer, child, and let me see you."To my horror, Alice obeyed, stepping right up to Maggie, who put her hand on her shoulder and sniffed loudly at her three times. I wouldn't have liked that hand touching me. Her long fingernails resembled the talons of a predatory bird.
"You've grown, child," said the witch. "So much so that I hardly recognize you. But you still smell like family, and that's enough for me. But who's the stranger with you? Who's the boy?"It's my friend Tom," Alice said.The dead witch stared hard at me and sniffed the air. Then she frowned and opened her mouth to reveal two jagged rows of blackened teeth."He's a strange one, that," she said. "Don't smell right and his shadow's too long. He's not good company for a young girl like you!"A shaft of moonlight had pierced the trees, casting our shadows along the ground. My shadow was very long, at least twice the length of Alice's and Maggie's -something that always happens in moonlight. I never give it much thought. I've just gotten used to it."Better choose friends from your own kind," continued the witch. "That's what you should do. Anything else only ends in sorrow and regret. You'd be better off rid of him. Give him to me, that's a good girl. The hunt ain't gone well tonight, and my tongue is bone-dry. So give me the boy…"With those words the dead witch thrust out her tongue so far that, momentarily, it hung well below her chin."No, Maggie-need something juicier than him, you do," Alice said. "Ain't got much meat on his bones, and his blood's too thin for your taste. No, back yonder, that's where the hunting's good tonight," she 'went on, pointing back the way we'd come.
"Mouldheel blood is what you need."Be there Mouldheels back there?" asked Maggie, raising her head and gazing through the trees while running her tongue over her lips. "Mouldheels, you say?"Enough to last you a week or more," said Alice. "Mab and her sisters and more besides. You won't go hungry tonight."Saliva began to dribble from the witch's open mouth, dripping onto the moldy leaves at her feet. Then, without another word or even a glance back, she set off toward the sound of the voices to our rear. She was still shuffling, but her progress was far more rapid than before, while we carried on our journey, walking fast."Should keep 'em busy for a while," Alice said with a grim smile. "Dead Maggie hates the Mouldheels. Pity we can't stay and watch!"Now that the immediate danger was over, my mind turned to other things. I was dreading the answer, but I just had to know."Didyou find out anything about Jack and his family?" I asked Alice."Ain't no easy way to tell you this, Tom," she said. "But no point in not telling you the truth, is there?"My heart lurched up into my mouth. "They're not dead, are they?" I asked."Two days ago they were still alive," Alice told me. "But they won't be for long if something ain't done. Got em locked away in the pits under Malkin Tower. The Malkins done it. My family are in the thick of it." She shook her head. "Got your trunks, too."
Chapter VII
Alice's Tale
WITHIN an hour or so we were knocking on the presby-tery.Both Father Stocks and theSpook had returned and at first my master was angry that I'd gone off by myselfAs we sat down at the kitchen table. I noticed that the mirror above the fireplaceHad been turned to the wall.It was still dark, and Father Stocks had obviously taken that wise precaution against being spied on by witches.My master made me give a detailed account of what had happened, and by the time I'd finished, Father Stocks had placed four bowls of hot chicken soup on the table.
As my master clearly had no desire to face the witches just yet, it seemed we weren't fasting, so I wolfed down the soup gratefully.Of course, although I explained how we'd had to flee the Mouldheels, I didn't mention that Alice had talked to the dead witch. I didn't think that would be the kind of thing the Spook would like to hear. To him, it would be an indication of how close Alice still was to her family and how little we could trust her."Well, lad," he said, dunking a big slice of crusty bread into his steaming soup, "though you were foolish to go off alone with that girl in the first place, all's well that ends well. But now I'd like to hear what Alice has to say," he went on, looking at her. "So start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened before Tom found you.Leave nothing out. The tiniest detail may be important."
"Spent a day and a night sniffing around before the Mouldheels caught me," Alice began. "Long enough to find things out. Went to talk to Agnes Sowerbutts, one of my aunts, and she told me most of it. Some things are as clear as the nose on your face. Ain't too difficult to work out what's going on there. But other things are a mystery. As I told Tom, his brother Jack and his family are prisoners in the dungeons under Malkin Tower. No surprise, that. No surprise either that the Malkins done it. Tom's trunks are there, too. And having real trouble with them three big ones, they are. Got the little boxes open easy enough, but they can't get into the big trunks.
They don't know what's in 'em either. Just that it's something well worth having-"How did they know about the trunks in the first place?" the Spook interrupted."Got themselves a seer,' 'Alice said. "Calls himself Tibb. Sees things at a distance, he does, but can't see into the trunks. Just knows they're worth opening. Knows about Tom, too; sees the future and thinks Tom's a real serious threat. More dangerous even than you," she said, nodding toward the Spook. "Can't afford to let him grow up. Want Tom dead, the Malkins do. But
first they want Tom's keys-so that they can open his mam's trunks."Who is this so-called seer?" asked the Spook, a touch of disdain in his voice. "Was he born and bred in the County?"My master didn't believe that anyone could see into the future, but I'd witnessed a few things that made me think he could be wrong. Mam wrote to me before we finally faced the Priestown Bane. She'd predicted what was likely to happen and had been proved right."Born in the County, after a fashion, but Tibb ain't human," answered Alice. "One glance at him tells you that -"You've seen him?" asked the Spook."Seen him all right, and so has Tom. We saw him in a mirror. The Mouldheels kept me prisoner in a cellar most of the time, and there were mirrors in there, so they could keep an eye on me.
The Spooks battle wc-4 Page 6
