'My son, my William, still lives. Help him, please, before it's too late.'
'I'm sorry, Mrs Arkwright. Really sorry. I wish I could help but I can't. You must believe me, your son really is dead,' I said, trying to keep my voice as kind and calm as possible, just as the Spook advised when facing the unquiet dead.
'No! That isn't true. Listen to me! He's shackled within the bowels of the earth, still waiting to die.'
'How can you know that,' I asked her gently, 'when you're a spirit bound to this place.'
She began to weep softly and the light faded. But, just when I thought she'd gone completely, it flared to a new brilliance and she cried out in a loud, tremulous voice:
'I heard it in the howl of a dying dog; I read it in the whispers of the marsh reeds; I smelled it in the water dripping from the broken wheel. They spoke to me and now I speak to you. Save him before it is too late. Only you can do it. Only you can face the power of the Fiend!'
And then, in an instant, the column of light shifted into the image of a woman. She was wearing a blue summer dress and carrying a basket full of spring flowers. She smiled at me and the scent of those flowers suddenly filled the bedroom. It was a warm smile but her eyes glistened with tears.
Suddenly she was gone. I shivered and made my way back to the kitchen, thinking over what had been said. Could the ghost of Arkwright's mother be right? Was he still alive? It seemed unlikely. The trail of blood had led right to the edge of the lake and he'd lost his staff and boot. The witches must have dragged him into the water. Surely they'd have taken their chance to slay him there and then? After all, he'd been their enemy for long enough and killed many of their kind.
As for that poor ghost, she was probably just confused. That happens sometimes with spirits that are bound to the earth. Their reason flees. Memories fray and become tattered and torn.
With trepidation, I thought about what lay ahead. I didn't expect Morwena and the other witches to arrive for a while yet. When they came, the moat would hopefully keep them at bay — but for how long? With luck, Alice and the Spook would arrive before then. Together, we could finish Morwena off for ever. I certainly didn't feel capable of it alone. Then we could return to Chipenden and leave this terrible place of streams, lakes and bogs behind. I hoped that the Spook wouldn't be too angry with Alice for using the mirror. Surely he had to see that it was justified?
I'd just picked up the book and started to read when I heard the sound of a distant bell. I listened carefully: after a few moments the sound was repeated. When it rang for the fifth and final time, I knew that it was Mr Gilbert down by the canal with a delivery.
He must have often rung the bell when Arkwright was away on business. If I just stayed in the mill, he'd probably move on down the canal, thinking to call next time he passed. But Mr Gilbert wouldn't yet know that Arkwright was dead, and as he'd seemed genuinely fond of the man, I felt it was my duty to go and break the bad news to him. After all, it should be safe enough. Morwena would still be miles away and I could do with seeing a friendly face.
So, carrying just my staff, I set off for the canal. It was a bright afternoon and the sun was shining. Mr Gilbert was heading south and the barge was on the far side of the canal. It seemed very low in the water, suggesting that it was heavily laden with cargo. Someone was grooming the horses. It was a girl of about my own age, golden hair glinting in the sun — no doubt Mr Gilbert's daughter. He waved to me from the towpath and pointed towards the nearest bridge, about a hundred yards to the north. I crossed over and came back to the barge.
When I drew closer, I could see that the bargeman was holding an envelope. He raised his eyebrows. 'What's wrong?' he demanded. 'You look down in the mouth, Tom. Bill's not giving you that bad a time, is he?'
There was no easy way to explain what had happened so I told him simply, 'I've some bad news for you. Mr Arkwright's dead. He was killed by water witches north of the bay. They may be after me now, so take care of yourself on the water. Who knows where or when they might appear?'
Mr Gilbert looked stunned. 'Who indeed!' he said. 'It's a terrible business. Bill'll be sadly missed and I fear for the County now he's gone.'
I nodded. He was right. There would be nobody to replace him. Competent members of our trade were thin on the ground. The area north of Caster would become much more dangerous now. It was a significant victory for the dark.
With a regretful sigh he handed me the envelope. 'This is from Mr Gregory,' he said quietly. 'He gave it me this morning at Caster.'
It was addressed to me and was in my master's handwriting. To reach Caster so soon the Spook and Alice must have set off over the fells almost immediately and walked through the night as I had. I was relieved at the thought. But why hadn't the Spook carried on to the mill? He could have got himself a ride on the barge — although the barge was now on the wrong side of the canal, as if it had come from the north rather than from Caster. But then I realized the bargeman must have used the bridge I'd just crossed to bring the horses over to this side so he could now head back south. I tore open the envelope and began to read:
Ask Mr Arkwright to release you from his instruction for a few days. Mr Gilbert will bring you safely to Caster, where I'll be waiting. This is a matter of great urgency. Right in the heart of that city, close to the canal, I've found something of immense help in our fight against the dark. It concerns you directly.
Your master,
John Gregory
The Spook seemed to know nothing of Bill's death, so either Alice hadn't told him or for some reason he was pretending not to know. And as he hadn't come straight to the mill to deal with Morwena, I knew that the find in Caster must be something very special.
'Get yourself aboard,' said Mr Gilbert, 'but first there's somebody I'd like you to meet. My son had long overdue chores at home, but my daughter's with me. Come here, Daughter, and meet young Tom!' he called out.
The girl looked up from her grooming and, without bothering to turn round, lifted her arm to wave but made no effort to obey her father.
'A very shy girl,' Mr Gilbert observed. 'But let's be on our way. No doubt she'll pluck up the courage to talk to you later.'
I hesitated. Leaving Claw at the mill would probably be all right — she could fend for herself for now. And I felt happy enough about leaving my bag but not the most valuable thing it contained — my silver chain. Who knew what we might face in Caster? It was a potent weapon against the dark — particularly witches — and I didn't want to be without it.
'I need to go back to the mill for something,' I told Mr Gilbert.
He frowned and shook his head. 'We haven't really got time. Your master's waiting and we need to get to Caster before dark.'
'Why don't you start the journey,' I told him, 'and I'll run and catch you up.'
I could tell that he didn't like it, but what I'd suggested was perfectly reasonable. Pulling a heavy barge, horses usually plodded along at a relatively slow pace, so I would be able to catch them up and then ride and rest for the remainder of the journey.
I smiled at him politely, then set off at a run. Soon I'd crossed the bridge and was sprinting along the banks of the river towards the house.
When I walked into the kitchen, I had the shock of my life. Alice was sitting in the chair by the stove and Claw was close to her, muzzle resting comfortably upon her pointy shoes.
She smiled up at me and patted Claw on the head. 'Expecting puppies, this one,' she said. 'Two, I reckon.'
I smiled back, relieved and glad to see her. 'If that's so, their father's dead,' I told her, the smile slipping away. 'Morwena killed him as well as his master. It's been bad, Alice. Really bad. You can't know how glad I am to see you. But why aren't you in Caster with the Spook?'
'Caster? Don't know nothing about that. Old Gregory went off to Pendle more than a week ago. On his way to Malkin Tower, he said. He was going to look in your mam's trunks and see if they held any information about the Fiend. When I talked to you in
the mirror, he still wasn't back so I left him a note and came by myself. Knew you needed help urgently.'
Puzzled, I handed Alice the Spook's letter. She read it quickly and looked up, nodding. 'Makes sense,' she said. 'Most likely Old Gregory found something important and travelled straight from Pendle to Caster. Don't know what's happened to Arkwright yet, does he? Just sent a message to the mill and asked for you.'
'You nearly missed me, Alice. Mr Gilbert's waiting for me now. I only came back to get my silver chain.'
'Oh, Tom!' Alice said, coming to her feet and moving towards me, alarm on her face. 'What's happened to your ear? It looks really sore! I've got something that should help. ' She reached for her pouch of herbs.
'No, Alice, there isn't time now and the doctor said it'll be all right. It's where Morwena hooked me with a talon and dragged me into the bog. Claw saved me. I'd be dead but for her.'
I unfastened my bag and pulled out my chain, which I then tied about my waist, hiding it under my cloak. 'Why didn't you follow the canal from Caster to the mill, Alice? It's the shortest route.'
'No it ain't,' she said. 'Not if you know what's what. Told you before, I know this place well, don't I? Year before I met you, Bony Lizzie brought me up here and we stayed on the edge of the marsh until Arkwright came back from one of his trips north and we had to move on. Anyway, I know that marsh like the back of my hand.'
'I don't expect Mr Gilbert'll mind if you travel with me. But he'll probably have set off already and we'll have to catch him up.'
When Claw followed us out into the garden, Alice shook her head. 'Ain't a good idea for her to go with us to Caster,' she said. 'City ain't no place for a dog. Better off here, where she can live off the land.'
I agreed but Claw completely ignored Alice's commands that she 'stay' and trotted at our heels until we were on the path beside the stream.
'You tell her, Tom. Maybe she'll listen to you. After all, she's your dog now!'
My dog? I hadn't thought of that. I couldn't imagine the Spook wanting a dog with us in Chipenden. Nonetheless I knelt down beside Claw and patted her head.
'Stay, girl! Stay!' I commanded. 'We'll be back soon.'
She whimpered and rolled her eyes. It wasn't that long since I'd been terrified of her but now I felt sad at leaving her. But I wasn't lying. We'd call back here on our way to deal with Morwena.
To my surprise, Claw obeyed me and stayed behind on the path. We jogged along until we reached the canal. The barge was still waiting.
'Who's the girl?' Alice demanded as we walked towards the bridge.
'That's just Mr Gilbert's daughter. She's really shy.'
'Never seen a shy girl with hair that colour,' Alice said, an edge of venom in her voice.
The truth was I'd never seen a girl with quite that colour hair at all. It was far brighter and more vivid than that of Jack's wife, Ellie, whose hair I'd always considered especially beautiful. But whereas Ellie's was the colour of best-quality straw three days after a good harvest, this really was a most spectacular gold, now lit to brilliance by the sun.
The girl was still grooming the horses and probably felt more comfortable doing that than talking to strangers. Some people were like that. My dad told me that he'd once worked with a farm labourer who wouldn't give you the time of day yet talked to the animals all the time.
'And who's this young lady?' Mr Gilbert asked as we came up to the barge.
'This is Alice,' I said, introducing her. 'She stays with us at Chipenden and makes copies of Mr Gregory's books. Is it all right if she travels with us on the barge?'
'Only too happy to oblige.' Mr Gilbert smiled, glancing down at her pointy shoes.
Moments later we were both aboard but the bargeman's daughter didn't join us. Her job was to lead the horses down the towpath while her dad relaxed on the barge.
It was now late afternoon, but it was pleasant to be gliding towards Caster in the sunshine. However, the thought of entering that city filled me with foreboding. We'd always avoided it previously because of the danger of being arrested and imprisoned in the castle. I wondered what it was that my master had found that was so important.
CHAPTER 19
The bargeman's daughter
The journey south was uneventful. The strange thing was that, for most of the time, nobody spoke a word. I'd lots of things to say to Alice but I didn't utter them in the bargeman's presence. I just didn't like talking spooks' business in front of him and I knew my master would have agreed. Such things were best kept to ourselves.
I already knew that Mr Gilbert was a taciturn man and didn't expect much in the way of conversation, but then, as the castle and church spires of the city came into view, he suddenly became very talkative.
'Do you have brothers, Tom?' he asked.
'I have six,' I answered. 'The eldest, Jack, still lives on the family farm. He runs it with James, the next eldest, who's a blacksmith by trade.'
'What about the others?'
'They're scattered about the County doing jobs of their own.'
'Are they all older than you?'
'All six,' I said with a smile.
'Of course they are — what a fool I am to ask! You're the seventh son of a seventh son. The last one to gain employment and the only one fitted by birth for Bill Arkwright's trade. Do you miss them, Tom? Do you miss your family?'
I didn't speak and for a moment became choked with emotion. I felt Alice rest her hand on my arm to comfort me. It wasn't just missing my brothers that made me feel that way — it was because my dad had died the previous year and Mam had returned to her own country to fight the dark. I suddenly felt very alone.
'I can sense your sadness, Tom,' said Mr Gilbert. 'Family are very important and their loss can never be replaced. It's good to have family about you and to work alongside them as I do. I have a loyal daughter who helps me whenever I need her.'
Suddenly I shivered. Only moments earlier the sun had been far above the treetops, but now it was quickly growing dark and a thick mist was descending. All at once we were entering the city and the angular shapes of buildings quickly rose up on either side of the canal bank like threatening giants, though all was silent but for the muffled clip-clop of the horses' hooves. The canal was much wider here, with lots of recesses on the far bank where barges were moored. But there was little sign of life.
I felt the barge coming to a halt and Mr Gilbert stood up and looked down at Alice and me. His face was in darkness and I couldn't read his expression but somehow he seemed threatening.
I looked ahead and could just make out the form of his daughter, apparently draped over the leading horse. She didn't seem to be moving so she wasn't grooming it. It was almost as if she were whispering into its ear.
'That daughter of mine,' Mr Gilbert said with a sigh. 'She does so love a plump horse. Can't get enough of them. Daughter! Daughter!' he called out in a loud voice. 'There's no time for that now. You must wait until later!'
Almost immediately the horses took up the strain again, the barge glided forward and Mr Gilbert went towards the bow and sat down again.
'Don't like this, Tom,' Alice whispered in my ear. 'It don't feel right. Not right at all!'
No sooner had she spoken than I heard the fluttering of wings somewhere in the darkness overhead, followed by a plaintive, eerie cry.
'What sort of bird is that?' I asked Alice. 'I heard a cry like that just a few days ago.'
'It's a "corpsefowl", Tom. Ain't Old Gregory told you about 'em?'
'No,' I admitted.
'Well, it's something you should know about, being a spook. They're night birds and some folk think witches can shape-shift into them. But that's just a load o' nonsense. Witches do use them as familiars though. In exchange for a bit o' blood, the corpsefowl will become their eyes and ears.'
'Well, I heard one when I was looking for Morwena. D'you think it's her familiar? If so, she might be somewhere nearby. Perhaps she's moved faster than I expected. Maybe she's swimmi
ng underwater close to this barge.'
The canal narrowed, the buildings closing in on either side, as if attempting to cut us off from the thin oblong of pale sky above. They were huge warehouses, probably busy with the hustle and bustle of business during the day but now still and silent. The occasional wall-lantern sent patches of flickering light down onto the water but there were large areas of gloom and patches of intense darkness that filled me with foreboding. I agreed with Alice. I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was but things certainly didn't feel right.
I glimpsed a dark stone arch ahead. At first I thought it was a bridge but then realized that it was the entrance to a large warehouse and the canal went straight through it. As we glided into the doorway, the horses beginning to slow, I could see that the building was vast and filled with large mounds of slate, probably brought by barge from the quarry to the north. On the wooden quayside were a number of mooring posts and a row of five huge wooden supports, which disappeared up into the darkness to hold up the roof. From each hung a lantern so that the canal and near bank were bathed in yellow light. But beyond lay the dark, threatening vastness of the warehouse.
Mr Gilbert bent towards the nearest hatch and slowly slid it back. Until that moment I hadn't noticed that it wasn't locked, something he'd once told me was vital when carrying cargo. To my surprise the hold was also filled with yellow light and I looked down to see two men sitting on a pile of slate, each nursing a lantern. Immediately I saw something to their left that started my whole body trembling and plunged me into a pit of horror and despair.
It was a dead man, the unseeing eyes staring upwards. The throat had been ripped out in a manner that reminded me of what had been done to Tooth by Morwena. But it was his identity that scared me more than the cruel horror of his murder.
The dead man was Mr Gilbert.
I looked across the open hatch at the creature who had taken the bargeman's likeness. 'If that's Mr Gilbert,' I said, 'then you must be. '
'Call me what you will, Tom. I have many names,' he replied. 'But none adequately convey my true nature. I've been misrepresented by my enemies. The difference between the words fiend and friend is merely one letter. I could easily be the latter. If you knew me better. '
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