Before I could reply, Mistress Wurmalde continued, "His wife is there, doing what little she can for him. Sometimes she bathes his brow. At other moments she tries to soothe his dementia with words. And for her it is hard, very hard, because she has deep sorrows of her own. It is bad enough that her young daughter is wasting away before her eyes and screams with night terrors. But even worse is the fact that she has lost her unborn child-the son and heir that your brother wanted so much. I very much doubt if the poor woman can take much more."But more can be supplied if that is what is needed to move you. There is a witch called Grimalkin, a cruel assassin that the Malkins sometimes send out against their enemies. She is skilled with weapons, particularly the long blade. She loves her principal work too well. Loves to kill and maim. But there is another skill that delights her sadistic mind. She loves to torture. Loves to inflict pain. Delights in the snip, snip of her scissors. Shall I place your family in her hands? It could be done with a word! So think, boy! Can you allow your family even one more hour of such torment-let alone the day and night you've demanded?"My mind reeled. I remembered the image of the scissors that Grimalkin had carved into the oak tree as a warning.

What Wurmalde had described was terrible, and it took all my strength not to rip the keys from my neck and give them to her there and then. But instead I drew in a deep breath and tried to banish what she'd summoned from my mind's eye. I'd changed a lot in my time as the Spook's apprentice. In Priestown I'd faced an evil spirit called the Bane and refused its demand for freedom. In Anglezarke I'd confronted Golgoth, one of the old gods, and despite my belief that in doing so Iwould forfeit both my life and my soul, had refused his demand that I release him from a pentacle. But this was different. Now it was my family being directly threatened, and what had been described brought a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes.Despite that, one thing had been at the core of everything my master had taught me. I served the County and my first duty was to the people who lived there. To alt the people, not just to those I held dear."I still need a day and a night to think things through carefully. Give me that time, or the answer is no," I replied, trying to keep my voice firm.Mistress Wurmalde hissed through her teeth like a cat.

"So you think to buy time, do you, hoping that by tomorrow they'll be rescued? Think again, boy! Don't delude yourself. The walls of Malkin Tower are strong indeed. You'd be a fool to place much faith in a few soldiers. Their blood will turn to water and their knees will soon begin to knock in tear. Pendle 'will swallow them up. It "will be as if they'd never existed!"She stood there, tall and arrogant, radiating malice and sure of her own power. I had no weapons here at my disposal, but they were available in Downham, not that many miles to the north. How would Mistress Wurmalde feel with a silver chain holding her fast, bound tight against her teeth? If I had my way, she'd find that out very soon. But for now I was defenseless. Witches are physically strong. I'd been in the grip of more than one, and Mistress Wurmalde looked powerful enough to seize me and snatch the keys from me by force. I wondered again why she didn't do so. Or use Tibb to do her dirty work for her.There was her position to keep up, as Father Stocks had told me. That would explain it in part. She would hope to keep her reputation intact, whatever happened in the next few weeks or days. But could it be something more than that? Maybe she actually couldn't take the keys from me by force. Maybe I had to give them to her freely or in exchange for something else? Perhaps Mam wielded interdiction even from a distance, forming thatbarrier of power. It was a faint hope, but one that I clung to desperately.

"A day and a night," I told Mistress Wurmalde. "I need that time. My answer is the same -"Then take it!" she snapped. "And as you deliberate, think how your family are suffering. But you may not leave this house. I cannot allow it. Return to your room. Here you will remain until you surrender the keys."If I don't go to Malkin Tower, Master Nowell will -wonder what's happened…"She smiled grimly. "I'll send word that both you and Father Stocks are indisposed with a fever. Master Nowell will be too busy tomorrow to concern himself with your absence. You'll be the very least of his worries. No, you must stay here. To attempt to leave without my permission would be very dangerous. This house is guarded by something you certainly wouldn't "wish to meet. You wouldn't get out alive."At that moment there came a sound from somewhere far off. The deep chimes of a clock reverberated throughthe house. It was midnight. The clock was striking twelve."Before this time tomorrow night, you must decide," Wurmalde warned. "Decide wrongly or fail to give an answer, and your family will die. The choice is yours."Chapter XTIBBI returned to my room and closed the door behind me. I was desperate to escape but afraid to try. All my courage seemed to have fled. Somewhere abroad within the house was Tibb, alert to my every move. I had nothing to defend myself with and suspected that I wouldn't reach an outer door before he fell upon me.At first, without even a thought of sleeping, my worries and fears swirling endlessly inside my head, I pulled a chair to the window and peered out into the night.

There, bathed in moonlight, the grounds and countryside beyond looked at peace. Occasionally, in addition to the distant snoring of Father Stocks, I could hear faint scratching sounds from out on the landing. It could have been mice. But it could also have been Tibb on the prowl. It made me feel very nervous and uneasy.I opened the window and looked down at the wall below. It was covered in ivy. Could I escape through the window? Would the ivy bear my weight? I reached down below the sill and clutched the plant, but when I tugged it, leaves and branches came away in my hand. No doubt it was cut back from the windows at least once a year -this would be new growth. Perhaps a little farther down the stems would be thicker and 'woodier, the ivy's grip upon the stone wall firmer?But it was filled with risk. Wurmalde wouldn't be able to sniff out my bid for freedom; the instant I began mydescent, however, Tibb might. I'd have to climb very carefully, and that would take time. The creature would be waiting for me before I reached the ground. If I fell, it would be worse… No, it was too risky. I let the thought seep away as images flooded in to replace it. The cruel pictures Wurmalde had placed in my mind became vivid and almost impossible to dismiss: Jack in torment; Mary screaming in fear, terrified of the dark; poor Ellie, mourning the unborn child she'd lost. The witch assassin, Grimalkin, let loose to inflict further pain. The snip, snip of her scissors…But as the night slowly passed, my anxieties gave way to tiredness.

My limbs grew heavy, and I felt the need to lie down on the bed. Like Father Stocks, I didn't bother to get undressed but simply lay on my back on top of the sheets. At first I didn't want to fall asleep, but soon my lids grew heavy and my eyes began to close, all my fears and concerns slowly ebbing away.I reminded myself that Wurmalde had given me a full day and a night to reach a decision. As long as I stayed inthe house, nothing would harm me. In the morning I'd be fresh and alert, able to find a way to solve all my problems. All I had to do was relax…How long I slept I don't know, but some time later I was awakened suddenly by the sound of someone shouting."No! No! Leave me! Let me be! Get off me!"I heard it as if in a dream. For a few moments I didn't know where I was and stared up at the ceiling in bewilderment. It was very dark in the room-there was no longer any moonlight to see by. Only slowly did I recognize the voice as that of Father Stocks."Oh, God! Oh, God, deliver me!" he cried again, his voice filled with utter terror.What was the matter with him? What was happening? And then I realized that someone was hurting the priest. Was it the witch or Tibb? I had no weapons and didn't know what I could do, but I had to try to help him. Yet when I tried to sit up, I lacked the strength. My body felt heavy; my limbs didn't respond. What was wrong with me? I felt weak and ill.I hadn't touched the mutton, so it couldn't be poison. Was it some sort of spell? I'd been close to Wurmalde. Too close. No doubt she'd used some sort of dark magic against me.