"Take care, Tom," Alice pleaded from behind. "Don't like the look of it. Dangerous, ugly thing, it is. Don't trust it, please…"Aye, the girl's right. Be on your guard, lad. Don't get too close," warned the Spook.Despite their warnings I took another step nearer. There were scratch marks on the stone pillar made by the creature's sharp talons. Its eyes were staring straight into my own."It's all right," I told the lamia, keeping my voice calm. "These people are my friends. Please don't hurt them. Just guard them as you would guard me, allowing them to come and go freely as they wish." Then I smiled.For a moment or two there was no response, but then the cruel eyes widened a fraction and the lips parted slightly. It was more of a grimace than a smile. Then, from beneath its body, one of the forelimbs was raised toward me, the nails less than a hand span from my face. I thought it was going to touch me, but quite definitely, the lamia dipped its head in agreement and, still keeping its eyes locked upon mine, scuttled backward up the pillar to be lost in darkness.I heard James let out a big sigh of relief behind me. "Wouldn't want to be in your line of work for anything!" he exclaimed.

"I don't blame you for that, James,'' said the Spook, "but somebody's got to do it. Anyway, let's press on."Alice took the lead now, holding her lantern high, and went into the passageway between the cells. On either side were the unquiet dead. I could sense their anguish, hear their pleading voices. James, not being a seventh son of a seventh son, would be spared that, but I was eager to move on quickly into the tunnel and leave all that pain behind me. However, before we reached the wooden door that led to the outer tunnel, the Spook rested his hand upon my shoulder and came to a halt. "This is terrible, lad," he said softly. "There are spirits in torment here. More trapped together in one place than I've ever encountered before. I can't just leave them like this -"Spirits? What spirits?" James asked, looking around nervously."It's just the spirits of those who died here," I told him. "They're nothing to worry about, but they're in pain and need releasing."

"Aye," said the Spook, "and it's my duty to deal with them now. I'm afraid it's going to take me some time. Look, James, you press on to Downham. You don't need me. In fact, you might find it easier to rally the villagers if I'm not there. Stay overnight and bring as many back here as you can tomorrow. Don't try to use the tunnel -I don't think it'll do much for the villagers' courage to pass through this dungeon. Come straight up to the tower and we'll lower the drawbridge. And another thing -I wouldn't mention the death of poor Father Stocks just yet. It'll be a real blow to the village, not good for their morale. And as for you two" -he looked at Alice and me in turn -"get yourselves off to Roughlee and bring Jack, Ellie, and the child back here to safety. I hope to see you again in a few hours at the most."It seemed to be for the best, so we left the Spook with a lantern as he prepared for the long task of sending the tormented dead of Malkin Tower toward the light. Then we set off along the tunnel, Alice in the lead and James close behind me.Soon we came to the lake, and Alice stepped forward warily, holding her lantern high.

A sudden stench of rotting assailed my nostrils. I felt uneasy. The water had been agitated on my previous visit, but this time it was still and calm, reflecting back the glowing lantern and Alice's head and shoulders like a mirror. Then I saw why.The wight no longer guarded the tunnel. Several pieces of it were floating in the water. The head was close to the far wall. A huge arm was on the nearside bank, the thick, bloodless fingers resting on the muddy path as if attempting to claw their way out of the lake. Alice pointed down at the path. There were footprints on it-but they weren't human. They'd been made by one of the feral lamias."It cleared the way for you, Tom," said Alice. "And unless I'm very much mistaken, we won't have any witches to worry about either."Alice was probably right, but as we skirted the lake, my feeling of unease returned. The wight was clearly destroyed, yet I had a strange feeling that I was being watched.We quickly went past the lake, stepping over the bloated fingers, and continued on our way until we reached the earthen chamber. After standing there for a few moments, listening for danger, we moved on into the final low section of tunnel, 'which forced us down onto our hands and knees. Crawling forward, we found it hard going, but at last we dragged ourselves through onto the bone shelf and into the sepulchre.

As I clambered out, Alice was dusting herself down. She held the lantern aloft, and I glanced across at the empty leg irons in the corner. Dead Maggie was gone, probably freed by her family as they made their escape.We extinguished the lantern, and Alice left it just inside the door of the sepulchre against future need. Outside, we said a quick farewell to James, who headed north toward Downham. Moments later Alice and I were making our way through the trees to Roughlee, a strong wind bending the saplings, the smell of imminent summer rain strong in the air.For a while we walked in silence. The sky grew darker, it began to rain, and I was becoming increasingly uneasy. Although I generally trusted Alice's judgment, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed the height of folly to have left my family with one of the Deanes."This aunt of yours -are you sure she's to be trusted?" I asked. "It must be quite a few years since you last met her. She might have changed a lot since then. Maybe she's fallen under the influence of the rest of her family?"

"Ain't nothing to worry about, Tom, I promise you. Agnes Sowerbutts never practiced as a witch until her husband died. And now she's what people hereabouts call wise. She helps people and keeps her distance from the rest of the Deane clan."I felt better on hearing that. It seemed that Agnes was what the Spook would have termed benign, using her power to help others. When we came within sight of her house, things looked even more promising. It was an isolated, one-story farm cottage at the foot of a slope, on the edge of a narrow track; to the southwest, at least a mile away, chimney smoke from the village rose through the trees."You wait here, Tom," Alice suggested. "I'll just go down and see if everything's all right."I watched Alice descend the hill. By now the dark clouds were pressing lower and the ram increasing in force, so I pulled up the hood of my cloak. The door to the cottage opened before Alice reached it, and she spoke to someone who remained out of sight in the porch. Then she turned and beckoned me down the incline. When I reached the door, she'd already gone inside, but then a voice called to me from the cottage.

"Get yourself inside out of the rain and close the door!"I did as I was told. It -was a woman's voice, a little gruff but also filled with a mixture of kindness and authority. A few paces brought me into a cramped living room with a small fire burning in the grate and a kettle close to boiling on the hob. There was also a rocking chair and a table upon which stood a single unlit candle-which, I noted with interest and some relief, was made of beeswax rather than the black wax favored by malevolent witches.The room was cheerful -somehow filled with more light than the tiny front window should have allowed. There were lots of cupboards and row upon row of wooden shelves laden with all manner of jars and odd-shaped containers. Each bore a label on which -was written a word or words in Latin. Without doubt, I was in the presence of a healer.Alice was drying her hair with a towel. Agnes Sowerbutts, standing next to her, only came up to her niece's shoulder but was as wide as she was tall, with a warm smile that welcomed me into her home.

"It's good to meet you, Tommy," she said, handing me another towel. "Dry yourself before you catch cold. Alice has told me a lot about you."I nodded, thanked her for the towel, and made myself smile back out of politeness. I didn't really like being called Tommy, but it hardly seemed worth complaining. I dried my face, concerned that there was no sign of Ellie, Jack, and Mary."Where is my family?" I asked. "Are they all right?"Agnes walked closer and patted my arm in reassurance. "Your family is safe in the next room, Tommy. They're sleeping peacefully. Would you like to see them?"I nodded, and she opened a door and ushered me into a room that contained a large double bed. There were three figures lying on their backs atop the covers -Jack and Ellie, with the child between them. Their eyes were closed, and for a moment a chill ran down my spine and I feared the worst. I couldn't even hear them breathing.