The Spook's Mistake

I glanced towards the Spook, then lowered my voice. 'If the Spook finds out what you're trying to do, he'll send you away. Be careful, Alice, because it could happen. He's worried about us already because we used a mirror. Don't give him the slightest excuse, please. '

Alice nodded, and for a long time we didn't speak and just sat there gazing into the embers of the fire. After a while I noticed that the hermit was staring at me. I looked back at him and our eyes locked. He didn't even blink and I felt embarrassed, so I asked him, 'How did you learn to dowse, Mr Atkins?'

'How does a bird learn to build a nest? Or a spider spin its web? I was born with the gift, Thomas. My dad had it too and his dad before him. It tends to run in families. But it's not just a talent for finding water or missing people. It can tell you about people. About where they come from and their families. Would you like me to show you?'

I wasn't sure and didn't know what to expect, but before I could reply, the hermit stood up and walked around the fire towards me, pulling a piece of string from his pocket. He tied a small piece of crystal to it and held it above my head. It started to rotate slowly in a clockwise direction.

'You come from a good family, Thomas — that's clear enough. You have a mother and brothers who love you. Some of you have been separated but you'll all be together very soon. I see a big family occasion. A gathering of great importance.'

'That would be nice,' I said. 'My mam's away and I haven't seen four of my brothers for over three years.'

I glanced towards the Spook, grateful that he was still fast asleep. He would be annoyed that the hermit was predicting the future. By now Judd Atkins had left me and approached Alice. She flinched as he held the string above her head. It began to rotate but in the opposite direction; it was moving widdershins, against the clock.

'It pains me to say it, girl,' said the hermit, 'but you come from a bad family, a clan of witches—'

'Ain't no secret, that,' Alice said with a scowl.

'There's worse,' said the hermit. 'You'll be reunited with them soon, and with your father, who loves you very much. You are special to him. His special girl.'

Alice jumped to her feet, eyes blazing with anger. She raised her hand, and for a moment I thought she was going to scratch the hermit or strike him in the face. 'My dad's dead and buried. Been in the cold ground for years!' she snapped. 'So is that what you're saying? That I'll be dead myself soon? Ain't nice, that! Ain't a nice thing to say to anyone!'

With that she left the cave. When I turned to follow her, Judd Atkins came up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. 'Let her go, Thomas,' he said with a sad shake of his head. 'You two can't ever be together. Did you see the way the string circled differently for each of you?'

I nodded.

'Clockwise and widdershins. Light against dark. Good against evil. I saw what I saw and I'm sorry to say that it's true. Not only that — I couldn't help overhearing part of your conversation. Anyone who's prepared to use the dark like that, for whatever reason, can't be trusted. Can a lamb sit safely beside a wolf? Or a rabbit befriend a stoat? Take care or she'll drag you down with her! Let her go and find yourself another friend. It can't be Alice.'

I went after her anyway but she had disappeared into the darkness. I waited at the cave entrance until she returned about an hour before dawn. She didn't speak and flinched away when I approached. I could tell that she'd been crying.

CHAPTER 23 A witch bottle

We set off at first light while the hermit was still sleeping. The skies were clear but the air was bitterly cold as we headed north towards the Big Mere, the high snow-capped peaks of the mountains in the far distance. Despite the biting air, underfoot the frost soon began to melt and the ground to squelch.

As we crossed the river Leven by a small wooden bridge and journeyed up the western shore of the lake, the going became more difficult, the narrow path meandering through a dense forest of conifers, with steep slopes rising to our left.

We might well have been three stray sheep, judging by Claw's behaviour. She kept circling us, then bounding on ahead before returning to shepherd us from behind. It was something she'd been taught by Arkwright: she was alert for danger, checking every direction for possible threats to her little flock.

After a while I dropped back and walked with Alice. We hadn't spoken since we'd disagreed in the night.

'Are you all right, Alice?' I asked.

'Never better,' she said, a little stiffly.

'I'm sorry we argued,' I said.

'I don't mind that, Tom. I know you were only trying to do what's best.'

'We're still friends?'

'Of course.'

We walked along in silence for a while until she said, 'I've got a plan, Tom. A plan to keep the Fiend away from us.'

I looked at her sharply. 'I hope this doesn't involve the dark, Alice,' I said, but she didn't answer my question.

'Do you want to hear my plan or not?'

'Go on then,' I said.

'Know what a witch bottle is?' she asked.

'I've heard of them but I don't know how they're supposed to work. The Spook doesn't believe in them.' A witch bottle was a defence against witchcraft but the Spook thought they were just something used by the superstitious and weak-minded.

'What does Old Gregory know?' Alice said scornfully. 'Do it right and it works, don't you worry. Bony Lizzie swore by 'em. When an enemy witch uses her dark powers against you, there's a way to put a stop to it. First you need some of her urine. That's the hard part but it don't have to be too much. Just a bit which you put into a bottle. Next you put bent pins, sharp stones and iron nails into the urine, cork up that old bottle and shake it well. Then you leave it in the sun for three days, and on the night of the next full moon you bury it under a dung heap.

'Then the job's as good as done. Next time she goes to the toilet she's in agony. It's just like she's weeing hot pins! All you have to do then is leave her a note telling her what you've done. In no time at all she'll take the spell off you. But you keep the bottle hidden just in case you have to use it again!'

I laughed without mirth. 'So is that what you're going to use against the Fiend, Alice?' I mocked. 'His piss and a few bent pins?'

'We've known each other quite a while, Tom, and I think that by now you know I ain't stupid. Your mam ain't stupid either. You ought to be ashamed, laughing like that. It was an ugly laugh, that. You were nice when I met you. You wouldn't have laughed at me like that then, whatever I'd said. You were too kind and well-mannered for that. Don't change, Tom, please. You need to get harder, but not like that. I'm your friend. You don't hurt your friends, no matter how scared you are.'

At those words my throat constricted so that I couldn't speak and tears welled up in my eyes. 'I'm sorry, Alice,' I said at last. 'I didn't mean it. You're right. I am scared but I shouldn't take it out on you.'

'That's all right, Tom. Don't bother yourself, but you didn't let me finish. I was going to say that I intend to use something similar. But not urine. It's blood that I'll be using. So we need to get ourselves some special blood. I don't mean his blood — how could we get that? The blood of his daughter, Morwena, should do the trick! Once we get some, I'll do the rest.'

Alice pulled something from the pocket of her coat and held it up in front of me. It was a very small earthen jar with a cork in the end.

'They call this a blood jar,' she said. 'We need to get Morwena's blood into this and mix it with a little of yours. Then the Fiend'll be forced to keep away. You'd be safe, I'm sure of it. Don't need to be much. Just a few drops of each would do—'

'But it's dark magic, Alice. If the Spook finds out, he'll send you away for ever or even put you in a pit in his garden. And think of yourself. Of your own soul. If you're not careful, you could end up belonging to the Fiend!'