Joseph Delaney - The Spook's Mistake

'The Fiend is the dark made flesh. The Devil himself, who rules over and owns the souls of those who belong to the dark. The girl here has been trained as a witch and has come close, far too close, to becoming a creature of darkness herself. That being the case, she senses the Fiend's power and knows just how easily he could steal away her soul. She's vulnerable and she knows it. That's what makes her afraid.'

'But—' I began.

'Save your breath, lad! It's been a long night and I'm too tired to listen. After what you've told me I can hardly bear to look at the two of you so I'm going upstairs to catch up on some sleep. I suggest you two do the same. The dog should warn us if anything gets close.'

When he'd gone upstairs, I turned to Alice. 'Come on, he's right,' I said. 'Let's get some sleep.'

She didn't reply and I realized that she was already in a deep slumber. So I settled myself down in my chair and within a few moments I'd fallen asleep myself.

A few hours later I awoke with a start. Daylight was streaming through the windows, and looking across, I saw that Alice was already awake. But what I saw her doing gave me a shock. She had my pen in her hand and was writing furiously in my notebook — muttering to herself as she did so.

'Alice! What are you doing?' I demanded. 'Why are you writing in my book?'

She looked up, her eyes wide. 'Sorry, Tom. Should have asked you first but I didn't want to disturb you.'

'But what are you writing?'

'Just jotting down some things that Bony Lizzie taught me; some things that might help us defeat the Fiend. You're going to need all the help you can get.'

I was horrified. The Spook had once told Alice that she had to tell me the things she'd been taught so that we could increase our knowledge of witch lore and the dark powers that we faced. But this was different. She was suggesting we use the dark to fight the dark and I knew the Spook wouldn't like it.

'Weren't you listening last night?' I shot back. 'Using the dark is making us vulnerable.'

'Don't you see that we're vulnerable already?'

I turned away.

'Look, Tom, what Old Gregory said about me last night was true. I've been as close to the dark as you can get — at least without becoming a fully-fledged witch. So I was terrified, being close to the Fiend like that. Ain't no way I can tell you how I felt. You belong to the light, Tom, fully to the light, and you'll never get that same feeling. A mixture of terror and despair, it was. A sense that I deserved whatever I got — if he'd asked me to follow him, to be his creature, I'd have done it without another thought.'

'I don't understand what that's got to do with anything,' I said.

'Well, I ain't the first person to feel like that. Once, long ago, the Fiend walked the earth and witches had to deal with that. So there are ways to cope. Ways to keep him at bay. I'm just trying to remember some of them. Lizzie kept Old Nick away from her but she never told me how she done it; it could be there in some of the things she said.'

'But you'd be using the powers of the dark against him, Alice! That's the whole point. You heard what the Spook said. It was bad enough using a mirror. Please don't do something worse.'

'Worse? Worse! What could be worse than having the Devil appear right in this room now and be unable to do anything about it? Old Gregory can't do nothing. Reckon he's scared. Reckon this time he's up against something just too big and dangerous for him to cope with. Surprised he ain't gone back to Chipenden, where he'd feel safer!'

'No, Alice! If he's scared, then he's got good reason for it but the Spook isn't a coward. He'll have a plan. But don't use the dark, Alice. Forget what Bony Lizzie taught you. Please don't do it. No good can come of it—'

At that moment I heard the clump of boots coming down the stairs and Alice ripped the page out, screwed it up and stuffed it up her sleeve. Then she quickly pushed the pen and notebook back into my bag.

As the Spook came into the kitchen, carrying Arkwright's book, she gave me a sad smile.

'Right, you two,' he said. 'Feeling better?'

Alice nodded and he gave her the slightest nod in return before sitting down on the chair nearest to the stove.

'I hope you've both learned something from yesterday,' he continued. 'Using the dark will only weaken us. Do you understand that now?'

I nodded but hardly dared look at Alice.

'Well,' my master went on, 'it's time to continue our discussion and decide what's to be done. I've learned a lot about the Fiend's daughter. It's a far better book than I thought Bill Arkwright capable of. I want you to start at the beginning, lad, and tell me everything that happened from the moment you came to the mill for the first time until I found you bound and gagged in the warehouse. I can see you've been in the wars,' he said, glancing at my sore ear, 'so take your time. Give me all the details. There might be something important.'

So I began my account, missing nothing out. When I reached the point where Arkwright gave me the letter and I decided to return to the mill, my master interrupted for the first time.

'It was as I feared. Bill Arkwright has demons inside him when he drinks. I'm sorry you suffered like that, lad, but I did intend it for the best. He's younger and stronger than me and there are things he can teach you that I can't any more. You need toughening up to fight the Fiend and win — we might have to try things that we've never dreamed of before.'

At that Alice gave me the faintest of smiles but I ignored her and carried on with my tale. I told the Spook about the attack of the water witch when she'd almost killed me, how we'd crossed the sands to reach Cartmel, and of our meeting with the hermit. I recounted how Arkwright had had to drive out the press gang before the hermit would dowse for him and discover the whereabouts of Morwena. Some sections of my tale were uncomfortable to tell — particularly finding the dead dog and Arkwright's boot in the water, and, of course, using the mirror to communicate with Alice. But at last, describing how I'd crossed the dangerous sands once again and returned to the mill, I finally pushed on to the ending of my tale in the warehouse.

'Well, lad, you've had a hard time of it but it's not as bad as you think. For one thing, I have a feeling that Bill Arkwright's probably still alive. '

I looked at my master in astonishment.

'Close your mouth, lad, or you'll start catching flies,' he said with a grin. 'You're probably wondering how I know that. Well, to be honest, I'm not absolutely sure but I have three things that point to him having survived. The first is a hunch. Pure instinct. You should always trust your instincts, lad, as I've told you before. And they tell me that Bill is still alive. The second is the ghost of his mother. You've just told me what she said to you, and last night she said pretty much the same to me. '

'But how can she know,' I demanded, 'when she's bound to her bones and can't travel much further than the mill garden?'

'Amelia is no ordinary ghost, lad. Technically she's what we sometimes term a water wraith because she suffered death by drowning. Not only that: in a rash moment she killed herself, and many who do that instantly regret it, but do so when it's too late. Such troubled spirits can sometimes be in tune with the living,' he answered. 'Bill and his mother were very close. So her spirit senses that something really bad has happened to him; that he needs help; that he's still alive. And she told me that he's "shackled in the bowels of the earth, waiting to die" — the very same words she said to you.

'And the third thing is what I've gained from reading this book. Sacrifices to Morwena were made at the approach of the full moon. '