The Spook's Mistake

CHAPTER 29 Where I belong

Ilearned afterwards that Alice tried to help with one of her potions but that the Spook forbade it. Instead, the local doctor visited the house again and gave me medicines that made me vomit until I thought my stomach would tear. It was almost five days before I was able to leave my sick bed. Had I known at the time that Alice wasn't being allowed to treat me, I would have protested.

The Spook recognized her skills with potions, but it was only after I'd recovered that I found out why he'd kept her away from my bedside. It was a blow to my heart. The worst possible news.

As soon as I was on my feet, we had a long discussion in the upstairs sitting room. The coffins of Bill Arkwright's mam and dad were no longer there — they'd been buried on the edge of a local churchyard where he could visit them. The Fiend had kept his word and their spirits had gone to the light. Now that the unquiet dead no longer haunted the mill, it had a new atmosphere of tranquillity.

Arkwright was very grateful for what I'd done. He began the discussion by thanking me to the point where it became embarrassing. Next, it was my turn to speak but I had little to tell the gathering, other than to describe how the fight on the marsh had unfolded. They knew the rest already. And the Spook knew too much. Far too much.

His face stern and tinged with anger, he explained that, although their bodies had been frozen in time, their minds had been free and they had somehow been able to see what I saw and listen to the discussion between the Fiend and me. They knew the task I'd been set and the bargain I'd made both for their lives and the release of Arkwright's parents. That was terrible enough as they feared the outcome on the marsh and were aware of the imminence of their own deaths. But, cheated of that, the Fiend had later maliciously told them other things — facts designed to drive a wedge between the Spook and me and, even worse, create a gulf between us and Alice that could never be crossed.

'I was already saddened and worried by the fact that you used the mirror to talk to the girl. It showed me the bad influence she's had on you. Far worse than I'd expected. ' lamented the Spook.

I opened my mouth to protest but he gestured angrily for silence. 'But now there's more. That sly and deceitful girl has been in contact with Grimalkin for nearly a month.'

I looked across at Alice. Tears were streaming down her face. I suspected that the Spook had already told her what was going to happen as a consequence.

'And don't try to tell me that good came from it,' the Spook continued. 'I know that Grimalkin saved your life — saved all our lives — by fighting alongside you on the marsh, but she's evil, lad. She belongs to the dark and we can't compromise, otherwise we'll end up no better ourselves and we might as well be dead as suffer that. Alice belongs in a pit, and as soon as we get back to Chipenden, that's where she'll go!'

'Alice doesn't deserve that!' I protested. 'Think of all the times she's helped us in the past — she saved your life when you were seriously hurt by that boggart near Anglezarke. You would have died but for Alice.'

I stared hard at him but his expression was unrelenting and a torrent of words poured from my mouth before I could stop them.

'If you do that, if you bind Alice in a pit, I'll leave. I won't be your apprentice any more! I couldn't work with you after that!'

One part of me meant every word; the other was horrified. What would Mam think of the threat I'd just made?

'That's your choice, lad,' said the Spook sadly. 'No apprentice of mine is forced to complete his time. You wouldn't be the first to walk away. But you'd certainly be the last. I won't take on another apprentice if you go.'

I tried one more time. 'You do realize that the Fiend told you those things about Alice deliberately? That he wants you to put her in a pit? That it serves his purpose because without Alice we'll be weakened?'

'Don't you think I haven't gone over all this in my mind already, lad? This is no easy decision and I don't make it lightly. And I do remember that your mam believed in the girl too, so you don't need to remind me of that. Well, anybody can be wrong. But my conscience tells me what to do. I know what's right.'

'You could be making a big mistake,' I told him bitterly, feeling that nothing I said would change his mind; 'the biggest mistake you've ever made.'

There was a long silence then but for the sound of Alice weeping. Then Arkwright spoke up.

'It seems to me that there's another way,' he said quietly. 'There's clearly a strong bond between Master Ward and this girl. And I'll say this to you, Mr Gregory: if you carry out your threat, you'll lose an apprentice. Perhaps the best you've ever had. We'll all lose someone who could be a dangerous foe to the Fiend. Because without our training and protection Tom will be seriously vulnerable and might never reach his full potential.

'And there's something else very close to my own heart. The lad made a bargain with the Fiend that freed my mam and dad's spirits from over fifteen years of suffering. But without the help of Grimalkin he wouldn't have been able to win. And without Alice summoning her, the witch assassin wouldn't have stood at Master Ward's side. So even I owe the girl something.'

I was astonished by Arkwright's defence of Alice. I'd never heard him talk with such eloquence and passion. Suddenly I was filled with hope.

'From what I've been told, the girl had a bad upbringing, a training in witchcraft that very few people of even the strongest character would have been able to recover from. That she did recover and has contributed so much shows you her mettle. I don't think we're dealing with a witch here. And certainly not a malevolent one. But maybe, like all of us, she's both good and bad inside, and you know only too well that light and dark fight a war within each of our hearts. I should know: at times my thoughts have been darker than most people's. And I've had to struggle long and hard to limit my drinking. So let Alice go free. You wouldn't be releasing a witch into the world. You'd be releasing a girl who I think will prove to be a strong-minded woman; she'll still be on our side whatever the methods she may sometimes choose to employ. As I said, there's a middle way,' he continued. 'Don't put her in a pit. Instead, why don't you just send her away to make her own way in the world? Just banish her. Do that for us all. It's a way out of this mess.'

There was a long silence, then the Spook looked at me. 'Would that be lenient enough for you, lad? Could you live with that? If I did that, would you continue as my apprentice?'

The thought of not seeing Alice again was more than I could bear but it was far better than her being condemned to spend the rest of her life in a pit. I also wanted to continue as the Spook's apprentice. It was my duty to fight the dark. I knew that my mam would want me to carry on.

'Yes,' I said softly, and the moment I spoke Alice stopped sobbing. I felt so bad, I couldn't even look at her.

'Right, girl,' said the Spook. 'Collect your things and get you gone. Keep well away from the lad and don't ever come within five miles of Chipenden again! Return and you'll know exactly what to expect.'

Alice didn't reply and I suddenly realized that she'd been silent throughout and hadn't uttered even one word in her own defence. That wasn't like Alice! Now, silently, her face grim, she left the room.

I looked at the Spook. 'I need to say goodbye to her,' I told him. 'It's something I've got to do!'

He nodded. 'If you must. But make it short, lad. Don't linger. '

I waited for Alice at the edge of the garden. She smiled sadly as she approached through the drooping willows, carrying her few belongings in a bundle. It was starting to rain; a cold drizzle, the kind that soaks you to the bone.

'Thanks for coming to say goodbye, Tom,' she said, wading through the moat. Once across, she held my hand very tightly, her left hand squeezing mine in such a grip that I thought my bones would break as well as my heart.

'I don't know what to say,' I started.

She silenced me. 'Ain't nothing you can say. We both done what we thought was best — and I always knew what Old Gregory thought about me using the dark. It was a risk worth taking to protect you. I don't regret it for a minute — though it breaks my heart to think I'll never see you again.'

We walked in silence until we reached the canal bank. Then she released my hand, pulled something from the pocket of her coat and held it out towards me. It was the blood jar.

'Take it, Tom. Fiend can't touch you if you keep this close. It's got Morwena's blood in it. Keep you safe, it will!'

'How did you get her blood? I don't understand. '

'Don't you remember? I washed your chain. But first I put some in the bottle. Don't take much. Just add a few drops of your own blood to it and it'll do the trick!'

I shook my head. 'No, Alice. I can't take it—'

'Oh, please, Tom, please. Just take it. Take it for me. Not trying to scare you. But you'll be dead soon without this. Who'll keep you safe if I'm not there? Old Gregory can't, that's for sure. So take the bottle so I can sleep at night knowing that you're safe.'

'I can't take it, Alice. I can't use the dark. Please don't ask me again. I know you mean well, but I just can't accept it. Not now. Not ever.'

She looked down at the towpath, replaced the bottle in her pocket and started to cry silently. I watched the tears run down her cheeks and start to drip from the end of her chin. One part of me wanted to put my arms round her but I daren't. Do that and I'd never be able to let her go. I had to be strong and keep her at a distance.

'Where will you go, Alice? Where will you stay?'

She lifted her tear-lined face towards me, her expression a blank. 'I'll go home,' she said. 'Back to Pendle. Back where I belong. I was born to be a witch and that's what I'm going to be. It's the only life I can live now. '

Then Alice put her arms round me and pulled me close, almost squeezing the breath from my body. And before I could move, her lips were pressed against mine, kissing me hard. It only lasted a couple of seconds, then she turned and ran off down the towpath, heading south. It hurt me to watch her go. My own eyes filled with tears and I sobbed deep in my throat.

The clans were divided against themselves now, some in support of the Fiend, others in opposition. But because of what she'd done before — and also the blood that ran through her veins, half Deane and half Malkin — Alice had many enemies in Pendle. Her life would be in danger as soon as she set foot there.

What hurt me most of all was that I knew she didn't want to go. She didn't really want to become a witch — I was sure of that. Alice was just saying it because she was upset. Before our last visit to Pendle she'd been afraid of returning. I knew she felt no differently now.

Alice had said that Pendle was where she belonged. That wasn't true but the danger now was that, under the influence of the dark forces there, she might eventually become a fully-fledged malevolent witch. In time, despite Arkwright's optimism, she could belong to the dark.