‘How did it all start, Mam? Mr Gregory told me that King Heys of the Little People had to sacrifice his sons to the Bane and that somehow the last son managed to bind it.’

‘Ifs a sad and terrible story,’ Mam said. ‘What happened to the king’s sons doesn’t bear thinking about. But I think ifs better that you know so you understand just what you’re up against. The Bane lived in the long barrows at Heysham, amongst the bones of the dead. First it took the eldest son there to use him as a plaything, picking the thoughts and dreams from his mind until little remained but misery and darkest despair. And so it went on with son after son. Think how their father must have felt! He was a king and yet he could do nothing to help.’

Mam sighed sadly. ‘Not one of Heys’s sons survived much more than a month of such torment. Three threw themselves from the cliffs nearby to smash themselves to pieces on the rocks below. Two refused to eat and wasted away. The sixth swam out to sea until his strength failed and he drowned – his body was brought back to shore by the spring tides. All six are buried in the stone graves carved from the rock. A further grave holds the body of their father, who died soon after his six sons, of a broken heart. So only Naze, the last of his children, his seventh son, outlived him.

‘The king was a seventh son too, so Naze was like you and had the gift. He was small, even by the standards of his own people, and the old blood ran strongly through his veins. He managed to bind the Bane somehow but nobody knows how, not even your master. Afterwards the creature slew Naze on the spot, pressing him flat against the stones. Then, years later, because they reminded the Bane of how it had been tricked, it broke his bones into tiny pieces and pushed them through the Silver Gate so that at last Naze’s people were able to give him a proper burial. His remains are with the others in the stone graves at Heysham, which is named after the ancient king.’

We didn’t say anything for a few moments. It was a terrible tale.

“Then how can we stop it now it’s loose again, Mam?’ I asked, breaking the silence. ‘How can we kill it?’

‘Leave that to Mr Gregory, Tom. Just help him get back to Chipenden and grow fit and well again. He’ll work out what to do next. The easiest way would be to bind it again, but even then it would still be able to work its evil as it has more and more in recent years. If it was able to clothe itself in flesh before, down there in the catacombs, then it would do it again, and before long, as its strength grew, it would revert to its natural form, corrupting Priestown and the County beyond. So although we’d be safer with it bound, it’s not a final solution. Your master needs to learn how to kill it, for all our sakes.’

‘But what if he doesn’t recover?’

‘Let’s just hope that he does, for there is more to be done than perhaps you are ready to cope with yet. You see, son, wherever Alice goes, it will use her to hurt others so your master may have no choice but to put her into a pit.’

Mam looked troubled, then suddenly paused and put her hand to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut as if she had a sudden painful headache.

‘Are you all right, Mam?’ I asked anxiously.

She nodded and smiled weakly. ‘Look, son, you sit yourself down for a while. I need to write a letter for you to take.’

‘A letter? Who for?’

‘We’ll talk more when I’ve finished.’

I sat in a chair by the fire, staring into the embers while Mam wrote at the table. I kept wondering what she was writing. When she’d finished, she sat down in her rocking chair and handed me the envelope. It was sealed and on it was written:

To my youngest son, Thomas J. Ward

I was surprised. I’d imagined it must be a letter for the Spook to read when he got better.

‘Why are you writing to me, Mam? Why not just tell me what you have to say now?’

‘Because every little thing we do changes things, son,’ Mam said, putting her hand gently on my left forearm. ‘To see the future is dangerous and to communicate what you see doubly so. Your master must follow his own path. He must find his own way. We each have free will. But there’s a darkening ahead and I have to do everything in my powers to avert the worst that might happen. Only open the letter in a time of great need when the future looks hopeless. Trust your instincts. You’ll know when this moment comes -though I pray for all your sakes that it never does. Till then, keep it safe.’

Obediently, I slipped it inside my jacket.

‘Now follow me,’ Mam said. ‘I’ve something else for you.’

From the tone of her voice and strange manner I guessed where we were heading. And I was right. Carrying the brass candlestick, she led me upstairs to her private storeroom, the locked room just below the attic. Nowadays nobody ever went in that room but Mam. Not even Dad. I’d been in with her a couple of times as a small child, although I could hardly remember it now.

Taking a key from her pocket, she unlocked the door and I followed her inside. The room was full of boxes and chests. I knew she came in here once a month. What she did I couldn’t guess.

Mam walked into the room and halted before the large trunk closest to the window. Then she stared at me hard until I felt a bit uneasy. She was my mam and I loved her but I certainly wouldn’t have liked to be her enemy.

‘You’ve been Mr Gregory’s apprentice for nearly six months, so you’ve had long enough to see things for yourself,’ she said. ‘And by now the dark has noticed you, and will be trying to hunt you down. So you’re in danger, son, and for a while that danger will keep on growing. But remember this. You’re growing too. You’re growing up fast. Each breath, each beat of your heart makes you stronger, braver, better. John Gregory’s been struggling against the dark for years preparing the way for you. Because, son, when you’re a man then it’ll be the dark’s turn to be afraid, because then you’ll be the hunter, not the hunted. That’s why I gave you life.’

She smiled at me for the first time since I’d gone into the room, but it was a sad smile. Then, lifting the lid of the box, she held the candle up so I could see what lay inside.

A long silver chain with fine links gleamed brightly in the candlelight. ‘Lift it out,’ Mam said. ‘I can’t touch it.’

I shivered at her words because something told me that this was the same chain that had bound Mam to the rock. Dad hadn’t mentioned it being silver, a vital omission because a silver chain was used to bind a witch. It was an important tool of a spook’s trade. Could this mean that Mam was a witch? Perhaps a lamia witch like Meg? The silver chain, the way she’d kissed my dad – it all sounded very familiar.

I lifted out the chain and balanced it in my hands. It was fine and light, of better quality than the Spook’s chain, with much more silver in the alloy.

As if she guessed what I’d been thinking, Mam said, ‘I know your dad told you how we met. But always remember this, son. None of us is either all good or all bad – we’re all somewhere in between – but there comes a moment in each life when we take an important step, either towards the light or towards the dark. Sometimes it’s a decision we make inside our head. Or maybe it’s because of a special person we meet. Because of what your dad did for me I stepped in the right direction and that’s why I’m here today. That chain now belongs to you. So put it away and keep it safe until you need it.’

I coiled the chain around my wrist, then slipped it into my inside pocket, next to the letter. That done, Mam closed the lid and I followed her out of the room, waiting while she locked the door.

Downstairs I picked up the packet of sandwiches and prepared to leave.

‘Let’s have a look at that hand before you go!’