My master’s library was gone; words written by generations of spooks – the heritage of countless years battling the dark, a great store of knowledge – now consumed by flames.

I heard him give a sob. I turned away, embarrassed. Was he crying?

Alice sniffed quickly three times, then gripped my left arm. ‘Follow me, Tom,’ she whispered.

She picked her way over a couple of charred beams and entered the house through the jagged hole that had once been the back door. She found her way into the ruin of the library, now little more than charred wood and ashes. Here she halted and pointed down at the floor. Just visible was the spine of another book. I recognized it immediately. It was the Spook’s Bestiary.

Hardly daring to hope, I reached down and picked it up. Would it be like the other book we’d found – just the cover remaining? But to my delight I saw that the pages had survived. I flicked through them. They were charred at the edges but intact and readable. With a smile and a nod of thanks to Alice, I carried the Bestiary back to my master.

‘One book has survived,’ I said, holding it out to him. ‘Alice found it.’

He took it and stared at the cover for a long time, his face devoid of expression. ‘Just one book out of all those – the rest burned and gone,’ he said at last.

‘But your Bestiary is one of the most important books,’ I said. ‘It’s better than nothing!’

‘Let’s give him some time alone,’ Alice whispered, taking my arm gently and leading me away.

I followed her across the grass and in amongst the trees of the western garden. She shook her head wearily. ‘Just gets worse and worse,’ she said. ‘Still, he’ll get over it.’

‘I hope so, Alice. I do hope so. That library meant a lot to him. Preserving it and adding to it was a major part of his life’s work. It was a legacy, to be passed on to future generations of spooks.’

‘You’ll be the next spook in these parts, Tom. You’ll be able to manage without those books. Start writing some of your own – that’s what you need to do. Besides, everything ain’t lost. We both know where there’s another library, and we’ll be needing a roof over our heads. Ain’t no use going south to Old Gregory’s damp, cold Anglezarke house. It’ll be behind enemy lines and it’s no place to spend the winter anyway – no books there either. Poor Bill Arkwright can’t live in the mill any more so we should head north for the canal right away. Those soldier boys won’t have got that far.’

‘Perhaps you’re right, Alice. There’s no point in waiting around here. Let’s go and suggest exactly that to Mr Gregory. Arkwright’s library is much smaller than the Spook’s was, but it’s a start – something to build on.’

We left the trees and started to cross the lawn again, approaching the Spook from a different direction. He was sitting on the grass looking down at the Bestiary, head in hands and oblivious to our approach. Alice suddenly came to a halt and glanced towards the eastern garden, where the witches were buried. Once again she sniffed loudly three times.

‘What is it, Alice?’ I asked, noting the concern on her face.

‘Something’s wrong, Tom. Always been able to sniff Lizzie out when I crossed this part of the lawn before…’

Bony Lizzie had trained Alice for two years. She was a powerful, malevolent bone witch who was buried alive in a pit, imprisoned there indefinitely by my master. And she certainly deserved it. She’d murdered children and used their bones in her dark magic rituals.

Leading the way, Alice moved cautiously into the trees of the eastern garden. We passed the graves where the dead witches were buried. Everything seemed all right there, but when we came to the witch pit that confined Lizzie, I got a shock. The bars were bent and it was empty. Bony Lizzie had escaped.

‘When did she get out, Alice?’ I asked nervously, afraid that the witch might be lurking nearby.

Alice sniffed again. ‘Two days ago at least – but don’t worry, she’s long gone by now. Back home to Pendle, no doubt. Good riddance is what I say.’

We walked back towards the Spook. ‘Bony Lizzie’s escaped from her pit,’ I told him. ‘Alice thinks it happened the day after they burned the house.’

‘There were other witches here,’ Alice added. ‘With the boggart gone they were able to enter the garden and release her.’

The Spook gave no sign that he’d heard what we said. He was now clutching the Bestiary to his chest and staring into the ashes morosely. It didn’t seem a good time to suggest that we go north to Arkwright’s place. It was getting dark now, and it had been a hard journey west, with bad news at the end of it. I just had to hope that my master would be a bit more like his old self in the morning.

Now that they were in no danger from the boggart, I whistled to summon the dogs into the garden. Since our return from Greece, Claw and her fully grown pups, Blood and Bone, had been staying with a retired shepherd who lived beyond the Long Ridge. Unfortunately they’d become too much for him, so we’d collected them and were on our way back to Chipenden when we’d seen the smoke over Caster. The three had been used by their dead master, Bill Arkwright, to capture or kill water witches.

I made a small fire on the lawn while Alice went hunting rabbits. She caught three, and soon they were cooking nicely, making my mouth water. When they were ready, I went across and invited the Spook to join us for the meal by the fire. Once again he didn’t so much as acknowledge me. I might as well have been talking to a stone.

Just before we settled down for the night, my eyes were drawn to the west. There was a light up on Beacon Fell. As I watched, it grew steadily brighter.

‘They’ve lit the beacon to summon more troops, Alice,’ I said. ‘Looks like a big battle’s about to begin.’

Right across the County from north to south, a chain of fires, like a flame leaping from hill to hill, would be summoning the last of the reserves. Although Alice and I lay close to the embers of the fire, there was a chill in the air and I found it difficult to get to sleep, especially as Claw kept lying across my feet. At last I dozed, only to wake suddenly just as dawn was breaking. There were loud noises – rumbling booms and crashes. Was it thunder? I wondered, still befuddled with sleep.

‘Listen to those big guns, Tom!’ Alice cried. ‘Don’t sound too far away, do they?’

The battle had begun somewhere to the south. Defeat would mean the County being overrun by the enemy. We needed to head north quickly while we still could. Together we went over to confront the Spook. He was still sitting in the same position, head down, clutching the book.

‘Mr Gregory,’ I began, ‘Bill Arkwright’s mill has a small library. It’s a start. Something we can build on. Why don’t we head north and live there for now? It’ll be safer too. Even if the enemy win, they may not venture any further north than Caster…’

They might send out foraging patrols, but they would probably just occupy Caster, which was the most northerly large town in the County. They might not even spot the mill, which was hidden from the canal by trees.

The Spook still didn’t raise his head.

‘If we wait any longer, we might not be able to get through. We can’t just stay here.’

Once again, my master didn’t reply. I heard Alice grind her teeth in anger.

‘Please, Mr Gregory,’ I begged. ‘Don’t give up…’

He finally looked up at me and shook his head sadly. ‘I don’t think you fully understand what’s been lost here. This library didn’t belong to me, lad. I was just its guardian. It was my task to extend and preserve it for the future. Now I’ve failed. I’m weary – weary of it all,’ he replied. ‘My old bones are too tired to go on. I’ve seen too much, lived too long.’

‘Listen, Old Gregory,’ Alice snarled. ‘Get on your feet! Ain’t no use just sitting there till you rot!’