‘Quick, Tom. Go down and warn him!’ Alice cried as she saw the Spook walking towards the tower. ‘What chance has he got against Lizzie now?’

‘Come with me,’ I said, tugging at her arm.

‘No, I’ll stay here and keep her royal highness occupied. I’ll ask her if she wants more hot water. The longer we keep her in that bath, the more chance Old Gregory will have. Don’t you worry, I’ll be fine.’

I didn’t like leaving her with Bony Lizzie but I had little choice. What Alice said made sense. Maybe she could distract the witch. I knew I had to warn my master. If he came up not realizing how strong Lizzie was now, he could end up either dead or in the dungeons, food for the buggane.

So I left Alice and began to run down the steps as fast as I could. I met the Spook as he was coming through the guardroom. We almost collided.

‘Steady on, lad!’ he cried.

‘Lizzie’s really powerful now!’ I said, struggling to catch my breath. ‘She can freeze you with a word. She stopped me from getting my chain out of my pocket!’

The Spook leaned his staff against the guardroom table and took a seat. ‘I thought there must be something different about the witch. There’s a small army out there and yet they don’t feel able to walk in through the gate and deal with her. They think the shaman’s dead. Is that so?’

I nodded. ‘Lizzie took his bones.’

‘So that’s one less servant of the dark to worry about… Lizzie’s got the yeomen scared all right – they’ve resorted to sending me in to deal with her – a spook, and a foreigner to boot. These people have always been fiercely independent, so they must be desperate.’

‘She’s talking about becoming Queen of Mona…’ I told my master.

He raised his eyebrows at that. ‘So tell me all about it. Take your time and leave nothing out-’

‘But she’s having a bath right at this moment. This could be your best chance!’

‘Bony Lizzie having a bath? Now I’ve heard it all!’ said the Spook, giving me a rare smile. ‘But I won’t take another step until I know what’s what. Sooner you start, lad, the sooner you’ll finish!’

So I did as he asked. I told him about Alice and Lizzie’s lips being stitched and the buggane’s tunnels leading into each cell. Then about the fight and our escape, and then how she’d crooned to the buggane; finally about facing the dogs, the appearance of Bill Arkwright’s ghost and the shaman’s death.

My master shook his head. ‘She’s certainly got delusions of grandeur – though she’s dangerous all right. Poor Bill… at least once we’ve sorted Lizzie, he’ll be able to break free.

‘But this is as bad as it could be, lad. I’ve been sent in here to sort out that witch, but once it’s done, they won’t need me any more. There’ll be a new master of Greeba Keep and things will go on much the same as ever. We might well end up in the dungeons again. They’ll carry on appeasing the buggane even though the shaman’s dead. They’ll be back to their old tricks. It’s the way of the world, I’m afraid. History repeating itself.’ My master sighed deeply, lost in thought for a moment.

‘I’ve faced similar situations before. I’m getting weary of it all, lad – tired in body, mind and spirit. Still, we’ll worry about that later. First we must sort out Lizzie,’ he finished, getting to his feet.

‘What if she’s too strong? What if-?’

‘Look, lad, don’t you worry – I’ve faced many a witch before and come out on top. You’re young and still an apprentice. That’s why she was able to control you. Let’s go and get this over with! Lead the way to Lizzie…’

I didn’t like it one bit, but I did as my master ordered. I just hoped that the witch was still in her bath. But as soon as we entered the throne room, I knew I’d been right to be pessimistic.

Bony Lizzie was seated on the throne and Alice was standing on the steps, looking terrified. Lizzie was dressed in a long purple gown, her hair wet but combed straight so that it framed her face, her lips painted red. She looked imposing – if not quite a queen, then certainly like a woman accustomed to life at court. But what really frightened me was her manner and the expression on her face.

She looked in total control, and I felt waves of cold malice radiating from her. However, the Spook looked resolute, and he began to stride down the carpet towards the throne.

He halted at the foot of the steps. I was close behind him, and I saw him ease his left hand into the pocket of his breeches to curl the silver chain about his wrist. I remembered the last time my master had faced Lizzie, right at the very beginning of my apprenticeship. He’d killed Tusk, her powerful abhuman accomplice, and then bound the witch with his silver chain before carrying her over his shoulder back to a pit at Chipenden. Could he do it again? He certainly thought so. And surely Lizzie must remember what had happened last time?

I soon realized that she wasn’t the least bit concerned. In fact she wasn’t even looking at the Spook. She was looking at me, her eyes filled with malevolence.

‘Can’t be trusted, can you, boy? Soon as my back’s turned you run off to get your master. I should kill you now…’

Wasting no time, the Spook spun the chain, casting it towards Lizzie. She was still on the throne; it was an easy shot – the witch was as good as bound. I watched the chain shape itself into a gleaming, deadly spiral – but to my dismay it fell harmlessly to the floor a foot to the right of her.

How could he have missed? Powerful dark magic had to be the answer. Or maybe something else…

My heart sank right down into my boots. Alice was right to doubt my master’s powers. I was beginning to see the truth. The Spook was a man in decline. His strength was going. The John Gregory I’d first became apprenticed to would have bound Lizzie with no trouble, no matter how strong the magic she used against him.

He frowned, and an expression of bewilderment came over his face. He staggered and seemed about to speak, but then his hand went to his throat and he started to choke. His knees gave way, then he fell forward, his forehead missing the bottom step by inches. I quickly went to kneel beside him. He lay there, face down, barely breathing.

‘He’s not dead, don’t you worry!’ cried Lizzie, getting to her feet. ‘Old Gregory isn’t going to enjoy an easy death like that. Not after the painful years I spent trapped in that pit. I owe him for that, and he’ll suffer before he dies. I’ll give him pain like he’s never known before, just see if I don’t! This is going to be your master’s worst nightmare.’

Her words reminded me of my master’s dream about Lizzie, where she’d been seated on a throne, the floor flowing with blood. It was all coming horribly true.

She walked down the steps and raised her foot as if to kick him with the pointy toe of her shoe, then stopped and shook her head. ‘What’s the point of kicking him if he can’t feel it?’ she muttered. ‘Now, boy, I’ve got a job for you. I want you to go out and talk to those men beyond the gate. Tell ’em they work for me now: they should choose one of their own, a sensible man with experience, to be my seneschal – the servant who will give orders to the others on my behalf. He should come up to the throne room for an audience with me.

‘And one other thing – I don’t like being kept waiting. They have ten minutes to decide. Every five minutes over that time, and one of their number will die. So get you gone and tell them that, boy!’

I glanced down at my master and then at Alice, but that moment of hesitation angered Lizzie. She took a step towards me, her eyes flashing dangerously.

‘Thinking of disobeying me, boy? Well, think again. You see, I know all about the blood jar-’

‘I’m sorry, Tom, I’m sorry. She made me tell…’ cried Alice.

‘It’s just a case of who the Fiend comes for first. If Alice here displeases me, I’ll throw her in the dungeons. Without me by her side, she wouldn’t last five minutes. And as for you – well, that’s simple. I’ll deal with you right now. Take that blood jar out of your pocket and smash it on the floor! Go on! Do it!’