My heart leaped with hope. One was the Spook, clearly identifiable from his staff and cloak. He was carrying two bags and walked purposefully, a gait that I could always recognize from a distance.The person to his left was Alice-there was no doubt about that-but at first I didn't recognize his other companion, who was carrying something over his shoulder. He was a big man, and as he drew closer, I felt there was something familiar about his gait, too, the way his shoulders rolled as he strode out. Then, suddenly, I recognized him.It was my brother James!I hadn't seen James for almost three years, and he'd changed a lot. As he approached, I could see that the blacksmith's trade had put muscle on him and he -was broader at the shoulders. His hair had receded from his forehead somewhat, but his face glowed with health and he looked in his prime. And he was carrying a huge blacksmith's hammer.I waved furiously from the tower. Alice saw me first and waved back. I saw her say something to James, and he immediately grinned and waved as well. But the Spook just continued walking, his face grim. At last the three of them halted in front of the moat, facing the raised drawbridge.

"Come on, lad!" the Spook shouted up, gesturing impatiently with his staff. "Don't dawdle. We haven't got all day! Get that bridge down and let us in!"It proved easier said than done. The good news was that the heavy capstan, which seemed designed for two to operate, not just one, had a ratchet system. That meant that as I turned it, releasing the chains, the weight of the bridge didn't spin the wheel more than an eighth of a turn at a time before the ratchet stopped the cog from turning. Otherwise it would have whirled out of control, breaking my arms or worse.Lowering the drawbridge was only half the battle. Next I had to open the big, rusty iron-studded door. But as soon as I'd drawn back the heavy bolts, it began to grind on its hinges. Moments later James heaved it wide open, threw down his hammer, and got his arms around me, squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break."It's good to see you, Tom! It's really good. I wondered if I'd ever see any of you again," he said, holding me at arm's length and giving me a huge grin. James had broken his nose badly in a farm accident, and it was now squashed back against his face, giving him a roguish appearance. It was a face with character, as Dad used to say, and never had I been more happy to see it."There'll be time for talk later," said the Spook, entering the tower, Alice at his heels.

"But first things first, James. Get that door closed and bolted and raise that bridge. Then we can afford to relax for a bit. Well, what have we here?"He paused to glance down at the trail of blood that led into the storeroom and raised his eyebrows."It's Mouldheel blood. Mam's sisters were in two of the trunks," I said. "They're feral lamias…"The Spook nodded but didn't look too surprised. Had he known all along? I began to wonder."Well, word came to us that the Mouldheels had fled down the tunnels soon after the Malkins, but we didn't know why," he said. "So this explains it. Where are the lamias now?"Down below," I said, gesturing with my thumb.James had closed the big wooden door and thrust home the bolts. "Mechanism for the bridge up there, Tom?'' he asked, gesturing upward."Through the trapdoor and on the left," I said and, giving me a quick smile, James ran up the steps two at a time.

"You all right, Tom?" inquired Alice. "Got help for Jack, then came here as soon as we could."I feel better now you three are here, but I've had a few scary moments, to say the least. How is Jack?"Safe enough for now. He and Ellie and Mary are in good hands. Did my bit, too, just in case. Brewed him up something else, I did. Still unconscious, but his breathing's much better and there's color in his cheeks now. Physically, he seems much stronger."Where is he? At Downham?"No, Tom. It was too far to take him, and I wanted to get back here and see if I could help you. Jack's at Roughlee with one of my aunts -"I looked at Alice with dismay and astonishment. Roughlee was the Deane village. "A Deane! You've left my family with a Deane?" I looked across at my master, but he just raised his eyebrows.

"Aunt Agnes isn't like the rest," said Alice. "She ain't all bad. Always got on well, we have. Her second name's Sowerbutts and she once lived in Whalley, but when her husband died, she came back to Roughlee. She keeps to herself. Her cottage is on the outskirts of the village, and none of the others will even know your family's there. Trust me, Tom. It was the best I could do. It'll be all right."I wasn't happy, but as Alice concluded, there came the sound of the capstan turning and the bridge being raised. We waited in silence until James came down the steps again."We've a lot to say to one another, so let's settle ourselves down," said the Spook. "Over there by the fire looks as good a place as any."He helped himself to a chair and pulled it up close to the flames. James did likewise, but Alice and I sat down on the floor on the other side of the fire. "Wouldn't mind one o' those spuds, Tom," said Alice. "Ain't smelled anything that good for days!"Those'll be ready soon, and I'll do a few more…"

"I've sampled your cooking before, so I'm not sure that's such a good idea," said the Spook drily, making his customary jibe. But despite that, I knew he'd enjoy a baked potato, even if he suffered a few singed fingers. So I went into the storeroom and came back with an armful of spuds and began to push them into the embers of the fire with a stick."While you've been getting yourself into serious trouble, I've been busy myself," said the Spook. "I have my own way of sniffing things out, and there are always one or two folk who aren't afraid to speak up and tell the truth."It seems that since last Halloween, emissaries of the Deanes have been slowly moving in on Downham village to plant their evil and terrorize the good folk. Most villagers were too terrified to warn Father Stocks, who, apart from the thefts from the graveyard, had no idea that things had deteriorated so far. Fear is a terrible thing. Who can blame them when their children are threatened? When their sheep waste away before their eyes and their livelihood's in jeopardy? By the end of the summer, the whole place would have belonged to that witch clan. As you know, lad, I like to work alone -apart from my apprentice, that is-but this wasn't the time for it."I tried to rouse the menfolk to action, but I was making heavy weather of it. As you know, most people fear our trade, and the villagers were too nervous even to open their doors to me. But then your brother James arrived and, after first talking man to man with Matt Finley, the Downham blacksmith, he was able to make them realize the grave danger to themselves and their families.

Finally some of the village men gathered in support. I'll spare you the details, but we cleared out the Deanes, root and branch, and they won't be coming back for a long time, if at all!"I glanced at Alice, but she showed no reaction to all this talk of the Deanes."As a result of all that," continued my master, "I got your note very late, lad. Too late to help. We set off for Read and met up with Alice, who'd been waiting for us on the outskirts of the laund. Together we traveled here to Crow Wood. Poor Father Stocks," he said, shaking his head sadly. "He was a good apprentice and a loyal friend to me. He didn't deserve to die like that."I'm sorry, Mr. Gregory," I said. "There was nothing I could do to save him. Tibb took his blood, but then Wurmalde killed him with a knife-" The memory of Father Stocks lying murdered on the bed returned so vividly that I almost choked on my words. "She acts like the mistress of the house -she controls Master Nowell as well. She blamed me for the murder; he believes everything she tells him and was going to send me off to Caster to hang as soon as the tower was breached. He'll be after me again. And who's going to believe me?" I asked, getting more frightened by the second at the thought that I might still be taken off to Caster Castle."Calm yourself, lad. Hanging's the least of your worries! Word has it that Master No-well and Constable Barnes have both gone missing. I suspect that neither will be in any condition to press charges.