I nodded.

‘Right then, give me your staff. You won’t be needing it any more.’

I tried to resist, but the compulsion was still strong, and I found myself laying it at her feet. I knew she wouldn’t want to touch it. Witches hated the feel of rowan wood.

‘Now get out of my sight,’ she commanded, ‘but don’t leave the keep unless I tell you, and stay away from the dungeons. Go near your master and it’ll be the worse for both of you. You’ll sleep in one of the rooms up there,’ she said, pointing to the steps, ‘where I can keep an eye on you.’ Within an hour the keep was a flurry of activity: the guards were back in position and the cooks were preparing for the feast the following night.

There was nothing for it but to go up the stairs and pick one of the bedrooms; I spent the next few hours in the window seat, watching the bustle below in the courtyard while I tried to take stock of the situation and work out the best course of action. Things looked bleak and I was concerned for my master. And where was Alice? Lizzie hadn’t mentioned her absence. Had she been imprisoned in the dungeons too? If so, she’d be beyond the protection of the blood jar.

Things were looking bad. We were like flies trapped in Lizzie’s web and I couldn’t see how to break free. I just had to wait for an opportunity and, when it came, take it despite the risk.

To my relief, just before dark Alice appeared at the open doorway of my room. She was carrying a plate of cold ham, cheese and biscuits.

‘Thought you might like to share some supper with me,’ she said, coming towards me.

‘Where’s the Spook?’ I asked.

‘He’s locked in a dungeon, Tom. Lizzie made me help her carry him down.’

We sat together in the window seat and nibbled at the food. ‘Don’t eat too much,’ Alice said with a smile. ‘Leave some room for the queen’s banquet tomorrow night!’

‘Can Lizzie be serious?’ I asked. ‘What does she hope to achieve?’

‘She’s going to release all the prisoners of Greeba Keep and invite them to the feast – all except Old Gregory, of course. Don’t know what she wants to do that for. What’s her game, Tom?’

‘Hard to say why she’d release the prisoners, but if she really means to rule this island, I’d guess she’ll be out to impress and terrify her guests tomorrow – show them that resistance is futile. But we’ve got someone on our side – Daniel Stanton, whom she’s just appointed as her seneschal. He’ll kill her if he gets half a chance. He served Barrule for years, but now his loyalty is to his next master. The Tynwald will probably appoint somebody next week. But what about Mr Gregory – she’s not going to feed him to the buggane, is she?’

‘Not yet, Tom. Lizzie wants to hurt him badly first. After she’s had her fun, then it’ll be the buggane’s turn.’

‘What I can’t understand is why she’s not killed me already – or put me in a cell to feed the buggane. Why risk having a spook’s apprentice around?’

‘Ain’t hurt you yet because I begged her not to,’ said Alice. ‘And she ain’t hurt me because she really means what she said about me uniting the Pendle clans one day. She thinks she can win me over to the dark. She can’t, but it don’t do no harm to let her think I’m moving her way. That’s the only reason you’re still alive, Tom. I also asked her to let the dogs go – or have ’em fed at least. She wouldn’t hear of it though. They must be starving by now.’

I nodded sadly. Claw, Blood and Bone had suffered cruelly, but at least, unlike some of the other dogs, they were still alive. I’d have to do something about them – and soon.

The following morning I passed Stanton on the stairs. He thrust a guest list under my nose. There were a lot of names.

‘These are the ones we’ve sent invitations to – all important people, but a lot of them won’t come. They see Bony Lizzie as a murderess and a witch and will already be making their own plans to deal with her – maybe even raising some sort of military force to move against the keep. Of course, they can’t do much until the Parliament meets next week.

‘But there are those who have agreed to attend. Why, I don’t know,’ the commander went on, shaking his head, ‘but some – especially those who don’t get their own way at the Tynwald – see her as a route to power. Some are simply coming along to assess the danger she represents. If the meeting turns against her, I might just use the uproar to kill her there and then. Now, tell me – what’s the best way to kill a witch, lad?’

‘A silver-alloy blade through the heart would be the most effective,’ I told him. ‘A spook’s staff has one, but Lizzie’s locked away mine and my master’s. Any blade right through the heart might do the trick though – at least for a while…’

I didn’t like to tell him that he would have to cut out her heart afterwards – otherwise we’d be facing a dead and possibly even more dangerous Bony Lizzie… But first things first, I thought. Guests started to arrive at the keep just after sunset. They were greeted at the gate and escorted to the great hall. Mostly they were men, alone or in groups, but there were a few couples too.

The hall was large and spectacular, its high roof supported on heavy wooden beams arranged in a sequence of triangles such as you found in the very largest County churches. Although constructed on a smaller scale, it reminded me of the interior of Priestown Cathedral. On the walls, rich tapestries depicted scenes from the island’s history: there were longboats and fierce-looking men with horned helmets; vessels landing on rocky shores; battles, with houses burning and fields strewn with the dead. Dozens of torches lined the walls to show them off.

Gradually the room began to echo with the low buzz of conversation as servants brought in trays of wine and offered a glass to each guest. The tables were arranged in parallel rows; the head table, where Lizzie would take her place, faced them. To our surprise, Alice and I were seated immediately to the left of the witch’s chair, with Daniel Stanton positioned on her right. Yeomen armed with spears stood guard along the wall at the back.

Once all the guests had arrived, another group of yeomen brought in the prisoners and led them to the table right at the back, near the door. I saw that Adriana was amongst them.

Only then did Lizzie enter the room and walk slowly to her place at the head table. The conversation died away as the guests followed her progress. She had clearly raided the wardrobe of Lord Barrule’s dead wife; this time she’d helped herself to jewels as well: her fingers were adorned with gold rings, her wrists with gleaming slender bracelets, and set within her hair, which was now clean and lustrous, was a spectacular diamond tiara.

When she reached her chair, Lizzie halted and swept the room with her eyes. Then she gave a smile, but there was no warmth in it. It was the cruel, gloating smile of someone very confident of her power; the sadistic smirk of a bully about to torment her helpless victims.

‘Eat your fill!’ she commanded. ‘We’ll dine first and talk later.’

Then, without further ado, waiters scurried into the room with trays of choice cuts of meat. The cooks had worked hard and it truly was a feast fit for a queen. But the guests all ate in silence, merely nibbling at their food, and you could sense the fear and unease that now gripped them. They knew what Lizzie was capable of – how she’d slain the powerful Lord Barrule and killed yeomen from a distance. She’d even bested a spook.

At last, when the tables had been cleared and everyone’s glass filled again, Stanton rose to his feet and called out for silence. An expectant hush fell as Bony Lizzie stood and faced her nervous guests.

She stared at them for a long time without speaking, pursing her red-painted lips. Suddenly I felt a chill in the air. She was using something from the dark already.