An age seemed to pass while I floated on the edge of consciousness. Finally I opened my eyes.

I was shivering, my brow burning with fever, my throat parched. The buggane hadn’t drained me fully: I’d survived my first encounter with it, but how long would it be before it returned?

I felt weak and lethargic. I couldn’t think clearly. Painful images swirled sluggishly inside my head like a whirlpool that was sucking me down into its dark, churning spiral. It was then that I heard a voice from my right.

‘You’re the lucky one,’ Horn said. ‘It’ll be over for you soon. You’ll be dead. I have to sit here watching you and waiting my turn.’

Wearily I turned my head to look at the abhuman. He was naked from the waist up, but even in the dim light from the torch above him I could see the powerful muscles bunched at the shoulders. And suddenly I had an idea.

‘Do the iron manacles give you pain?’ I asked.

He shook his head.

Not all creatures of the dark were vulnerable to iron. It seemed that Horn had some resistance to it. So much the better…

‘Then why don’t you free yourself?’ I suggested. ‘You’re strong enough to do that…’

‘For what purpose?’ he asked. ‘The cell door is too thick for me to break through.’

‘Once you’ve freed yourself, free me too. Then we can venture into the tunnels together. I have weapons against anything that might threaten us – salt, iron and my silver chain. It’s better than waiting here for death.’

‘Free you? Why should I trust you? You’re my enemy!’

‘For now we need each other,’ I told him. ‘We’d be stronger together. Once we’re free we can go our own ways.’

For a long time there was silence. Horn was obviously considering my suggestion. Then I heard a long groan. Only when the sound was repeated did I realize that it was the noise of exertion rather than physical pain or mental anguish. He was tearing the links apart.

I licked my dry lips and my heart pounded. I was suddenly filled with hope.

Horn stood and came across to where I was chained. I could smell stale sweat and a rank animal odour. But there was no chill; no warning that I was close to something from the dark. Horn was nearer to the human than he appeared. Nonetheless, I had to be wary. Despite our fragile pact we were natural enemies.

Without hesitation, Horn reached down and seized my chain close to the iron ring in the wall. He groaned again as his muscles tensed, then stretched it until the links first elongated and then snapped. With the end free, it was the work of moments to unwrap its length from my legs.

‘Are you not blind?’ I asked, wondering about his seemingly sightless eyes and how he had reached directly for the chain.

‘I can see better than most, but not with these!’ he said, pointing at each of his milky eyeballs in turn. ‘I have a third, spirit eye. With it I can see the world, and even things beyond the world. I can peer into the darkness within people.’

I jumped to my feet, and my heart began to pound even harder. I felt weak and shaky, but I was free! We stood face to face. My enemy from the dark was now my temporary ally. Together, with the help of Alice, we might have a real chance against Lizzie.

My tinderbox was in my bag but I still had my candle stub, so I reached up and lit it from the torch. Carrying the candle in my left hand, I led the way into the tunnel, suddenly realizing that it might not be necessary to follow the buggane’s tunnels for very long: I remembered how cells that didn’t contain prisoners usually had their doors left ajar.

When I’d reached the end of the short tunnel, I turned right. About twenty yards on, I reached the access tunnel to the next cell and turned right again into it. The moment I emerged into the empty cell, my hopes soared. The door was ajar! We could reach the steps that led up to the tower.

Of course, it meant passing through the guardroom. Had the yeomen returned after being attacked by the birds? I wondered. If they hadn’t, who was it who had carried me from Lizzie’s room down into the dungeon?

The passageways were now in total darkness; nobody had been renewing the torches. Without my candle it would have been difficult to find our way.

We hadn’t gone far when I suddenly felt the special coldness that told me that something from the dark was near. I came to a halt and I heard Horn hiss. He’d sensed it too. There was a clicking, crepitating sound directly ahead, and then a deep menacing growl. Something was moving towards us. I held up my candle stub, and saw that there was a place low on the wall where the light seemingly couldn’t reach; a shadow darker than the other shadows. It moved towards us and started to grow.

What was it? I’d never encountered anything quite like it before. The growl came again, deeper and much more threatening. This was some dark entity drawn here by Lizzie’s meddling.

I had to act – and fast. Quickly I handed the candle to Horn, reached deep into my breeches pockets and filled each fist with the substances waiting there: salt in my right, iron filings in my left. I hurled both handfuls straight at that threatening shadow. They enveloped it in a cloud. There was a sudden agonized shriek, and then only the scattered salt and iron remained on the flags. Whatever had threatened us was no more. It had either fled in agony or been destroyed. But there might well be other similar dangers ahead.

I looked upwards fearfully. Would that noise have alerted the guardroom? The cry had certainly not sounded human. Perhaps it would be more likely to cause any there to flee than descend into the darkness and investigate.

Horn now took the lead. We passed through the section of tunnel under the moat, where the water was cascading down the wall and dripping from the ceiling, and then headed for the steps. We began to climb, pausing now and then to listen. When at last we reached the guardroom door, we put our ears to it, but there was no sound from within.

Horn handed me the candle, then eased open the door. The room was empty. There were pitchers of water on the far table and I seized one and took several desperate gulps, then helped myself to a crust of stale bread, which I softened with some of the water before swallowing. My body had an urgent need for energy, to replace what the buggane had taken. When I’d finished, the abhuman walked across to face me.

‘We should attack the witch now,’ he growled.

‘It’s probably better if we find Alice first,’ I told him. ‘She’ll be able to help.’

Horn nodded in agreement and we left the guardroom together and continued upwards. We found Lizzie sitting on the throne, a smug look on her face. She clearly knew we’d escaped and had just been waiting for us to come to her. We were like two trapped flies going round and round in circles; we’d never even left her web.

Then I noticed the body of a yeoman behind the throne – and the blood on Lizzie’s lips. He must have been the one who’d carried me down to the dungeon. Now she’d killed him and drunk his blood. Although primarily a bone witch, Lizzie liked human blood too. She preferred children’s but would drink an adult’s if she was thirsty enough.

As Horn and I walked down the carpet towards her, I readied my chain, wondering if I’d have the strength to bind her this time. But before I could attack, Lizzie sprang to her feet and glared at Horn. She looked wild, close to insanity, and a mixture of blood and saliva dribbled from her mouth to ooze into the slime on her chin.

‘You’ve crossed my path once too often. You were meant to die a slow and painful death, but now you’ll die fast!’ she cried, raising her left hand, palm towards Horn, fingers spread wide. Then she closed her hand into a fist as if crushing something within it, while muttering an enchantment in the Old Tongue.