The fight was fast and furious: they tore at each other with their teeth, the first blood being drawn in just seconds. It was cruel and horrible and I couldn’t bear to look, so I cast my eyes down to the ground. Unfortunately my ears were still open to what was happening. Eventually one of the dogs let out a shrill cry and then fell silent. There was a burst of applause, a few cheers and the odd curse of disappointment from the losers. When I looked up, the winning dog was being led back to its cage; the losing animal was lying on its side with its throat torn out, fresh blood soaking into the sawdust.

I was forced to witness another three contests, each time terrified that one of Bill Arkwright’s dogs would be dragged out to fight. And what if they made two of them fight each other? I’d no doubt that the shaman had the power to make them kill their own kin.

But, to my relief, the fighting was at last over for the night and the gamblers got to their feet and started to leave. I was frog-marched back to my cell and left in the darkness once more. Why had I been taken to watch that cruelty? I wondered. Was it simply sadism – a wish to make me suffer in anticipation of what was going to happen to Claw, Blood and Bone? It wasn’t long before my question was answered…

There was a shimmer in the darkness by the tunnel; a luminosity in the air. I stood up in alarm. Was it the buggane in its spirit form? But the shimmer quickly assumed an appearance of solidity, taking a shape I recognized: a tall, skeletal figure with a cruel expression, dressed in a dark robe. It was the shaman, Lord Barrule. Although somewhere else within Greeba Keep, he was projecting his spirit into my cell.

‘The buggane certainly wants you, boy,’ the apparition said. ‘It likes what it sniffed, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Did you enjoy what you saw tonight?’

I shook my head.

‘It could have been much worse. I could have pitted your own dogs against each other. The mother against her whelps perhaps. It could still be done…’

I didn’t reply. I had rarely seen such malevolence and cruelty in a face. This man was capable of anything.

‘I’d spare your dogs if you were willing to put your own life on the line. You’ve seen my gambling friends – I’d like to offer them some special entertainment tomorrow night: a spook’s apprentice in combat with a witch. Who would prove victorious? The outcome is uncertain enough to make it interesting, even though the odds are firmly on the witch. But you’d be free to use the tools of your trade. I’ve left you your silver chain and I’ll return your staff. Defeat the witch and I’ll let you go. You can even take your dogs with you. But lose and I’ll make them fight to the death!’

‘You want me to fight Adriana?’ I asked. I couldn’t believe what he was asking me to do.

‘No, you young idiot! Not that foolish girl. I’ve got other plans for her! You’ll face a much more dangerous opponent – one who’s from your own neck of the woods. I mean Lizzie, the bone witch!’

‘Bony Lizzie’s here?’ I asked in alarm.

‘She’s my prisoner, boy. And soon she’ll be dead – that’s if you have the skill and guts to put an end to her! What do you say?’

I didn’t reply. Was it a trick or a real chance of freedom?

‘Of course, if you lose, you’ll forfeit your own life. I’ve made the witch the same promise. And I’ll let her take her pet away with her too; lose, and it dies with her. Come on, make up your mind. Don’t keep me waiting!’

‘Her pet?’

‘The other witch. The one she controls. No doubt she came with her from over the water. Together they cut the throats of those poor fishermen. For that they both deserve to die. My own money will be on you. I like to bet on long shots…’

What choice did I have? I gave the merest of nods to signal my acceptance of his offer. Immediately the image of the shaman began to fade as he withdrew his spirit back into his body. The next day they fed me well. The first meal was a hot plate of lamb with roast potatoes and carrots.

‘Eat up, boy! My master wants you fighting fit!’ jeered the mocking guard who handed me the meal. ‘And you’ll need every last ounce of strength to face what he’s got planned!’

He and his companion left, laughing as if at some private joke, and were back just over six hours later with a delicious venison stew. I ate sparingly – despite the fact that I had eaten little the previous day and was very hungry. I needed to prepare myself to face the dark – though I also knew I would need all my speed and strength to overcome Lizzie: it would be a difficult test. I could use my staff and chain against her, but no doubt she’d be armed too; a bone witch like Lizzie was skilled in the use of blades. And if she won, she’d take my bones…

And who was this other witch, the ‘pet’ whom she’d brought over from the County with her? She was a completely unknown entity – probably a young witch Lizzie had taken under her wing to train. Maybe it was one of the witches who’d released her from the pit in the Spook’s garden. She would be dangerous too – one more servant of the dark to worry about.

I had plenty of time to think. Mostly I worried about Alice. What had become of her? I took the blood jar out of my pocket and held it in the palm of my right hand for a while. How long would it be before the Fiend realized that she was no longer protected? I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Alice.

Then there was my master. Had he managed to escape? I wondered. If so, I knew he’d be planning to rescue me. It seemed hopeless – most probably he’d be imprisoned himself. Could I escape from Greeba Keep before that happened? Would the shaman really let me go if I defeated Lizzie? Was he likely to keep his word?

There was poor Adriana too. What did the shaman mean by saying he had ‘other plans for her ‘? How could I just abandon her?

My fruitless speculations were brought to a halt by the arrival of the guards, this time to take me to face Lizzie. When we entered the long room, I noticed that there were a lot more men sitting on the straw bales. Many were standing too, and money was changing hands, but they all fell silent when I was brought in, staring at me in silent appraisal.

The dogs were in their cages against the left wall of the room, and to my relief Claw, Blood and Bone were still amongst them. Would the shaman really let me take them with me if I won? I’d no choice but to fight anyway. If I did nothing, Lizzie would soon put an end to me.

It was then that my eyes settled on the furthest cage, the one nearest the entrance to the buggane’s tunnel. Yesterday it had been empty; now there was something inside it – but not a dog. At first glance it looked like a bundle of dirty rags. But then I made out a figure curled into a ball, hands gripping ankles, head resting on knees.

Lord Barrule got to his feet and came across the sawdust floor towards me. ‘Are you ready, boy?’ he asked. ‘I have to tell you that most of the sensible money is on the witch. We all saw what she was capable of when we captured her. Five of my men died; another two lost their minds. So we’ve tried to give you a fighting chance. We’ve done the same to her as we’ve done to her pet. Come and see…’

He led the way to the furthest cage, the guards pulling me after him. He halted there and pointed down at the bundle of rags on the filthy straw. I saw the pointy shoes even before she raised her head.

It was Alice, and at the sight of her my throat constricted with emotion. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with tears, and her expression was one of pain and hopelessness. They had stitched her mouth shut with thin brown twine. Her lips were tightly bound together so that she couldn’t speak.