'Take a seat, Tom,' Morgan said. 'We've a lot to talk about.'
I didn't move so he gestured at the chair opposite him.
'I came here to speak to Alice,' I told him. 'Alice has gone,' Morgan said. 'She left three days ago.'
'Gone? Gone where?' I asked.
'She didn't say. She wasn't a very talkative girl, that Alice. Didn't even bother to say she was leaving. Now, Tom, the last time you entered this room you came uninvited like a thief in the night with that girl at your side. But we'll forget that because now you're very welcome. So I'll say it again. Sit yourself down.'
Filled with dismay I sat down but kept my staff upright by my left side, gripping it firmly. How did he know that we'd been in his room? And I was really worried about Alice. Where could she have gone? Surely not back to Pendle? I looked across and met Morgan's gaze. Suddenly, with a smile, he pulled the hood back from his face to reveal his unruly thatch of hair. There seemed a lot more grey in it than last time. In the candlelight his face was craggy and the lines were far deeper.
'I'd offer you wine,' he said, 'but I don't drink when I'm working.'
'I don't usually drink wine,' I told him.
'But no doubt you eat cheese,' he said, a mocking grin on his face.
I didn't reply and his expression became serious. Suddenly he leaned forward, pursed his lips and blew hard. The candle flickered and went out, plunging the room into absolute darkness while the smell of tallow intensified.
'There's just you, me and the dark,' Morgan said. 'Can you stand it? Are you fit to be my apprentice?'
They were the exact words the Spook had said to me in the cellar of the haunted house in Horshaw, the place where he'd taken me on the very first day of my apprenticeship. He'd done it to judge whether or not I was made of the right stuff to become a spook. They were the words he'd spoken the moment the candle went out.
'I'll bet that when you first walked down the steps into the cellar, he was sitting in the corner and stood up the moment you came near,' Morgan continued. 'Nothing changes. You, me and two dozen others or more. Predictable stuff. The old fool! No wonder nobody sticks with him for long.'
'You stayed three years,' I said softly into the darkness.
'Found your voice again, Tom? That's good,' Morgan said. T see that he's been talking about me. Did he have anything good to say?'
'Not really'
'That doesn't surprise me. And did he tell you why I gave up my apprenticeship as a spook?'
By now my eyes had adjusted to the dark and I could just make out the shape of his head facing me across the table. I could have told him that the Spook said he'd lacked discipline and wasn't up to the job, but instead I decided to ask a few questions of my own.
'What do you want from me? And why has the door been barred?' I asked.
'So that you can't run away again,' Morgan said. 'So that you've no choice but to stay and face what I have to show you. You're quite the apprentice, I hear. You and I both know that your master doesn't appreciate that. So this is the first lesson of your new apprenticeship. You'll have had some dealings with the dead, but now I'm going to add to your knowledge. And add to it significantly'
'Why would you want to do that?' I challenged. 'Mr Gregory's teaching me all I need to know'
'First things first, Tom,' Morgan replied. 'Lef s talk about ghosts first. What do you know about them?'
I decided to humour him. Maybe if I let him get what he wanted to say off his chest, I could be on my way to the Spook's house.
'Most ghosts are bound close to their bones; others to the place where they either suffered or committed some terrible crime while still on earth. They aren't free to wander at will.'
'Well done, Tom,' Morgan said, an edge of mockery back in his voice. 'And I bet you've written it all down in your notebook too, like a good little apprentice. Well, here's something that the old fool won't have taught you. He won't have mentioned it because he doesn't like to think about it. So here's the big question. Where do the dead go after death? And I don't mean bound ghasts and ghosts. I mean the other dead. The vast majority. People like your father.'
At the mention of my dad I sat up straight and stared hard at Morgan. 'What do you know of my dad?' I asked angrily. 'How did you know he was dead?'
'All in good time, Tom. All in good time. I have powers your master can only dream of. But you haven't answered my question. Where do the dead go after death?'
'The Church says Heaven, Hell, Purgatory or Limbo,' I replied. 'I'm not sure about all that and Mr Gregory never talks about it. But I believe that the soul survives death.'
Purgatory was a place where souls went to be cleansed, suffering until they were fit to enter Heaven. Limbo was more mysterious. Priests thought that those who weren't baptized went there. It was supposed to be for souls that weren't really evil but, through no real fault of their own, weren't fit to enter Heaven.
'What does the Church know?' Morgan said, a sneering tone entering his voice. 'That's about the only thing Old Gregory and I do agree on. But you see, Tom, of the four places you've just mentioned, Limbo is by far the most useful for somebody like me. It takes its name from the Latin word limbus, which means 'edge' or 'fringe'. You see, wherever they're heading, the majority of the dead first have to pass through Limbo, which is on the edge of this world, and some find it very hard to do. Some of the weak, the fearful and the guilty retreat, falling back into this world to become ghosts, joining the lingerers who are already trapped on earth. They are the easiest to control. But even the strong and the good must struggle and fight to pass through Limbo. It takes time, and while they're delayed, I have the power to reach any soul there that I choose. I can stop it passing on. I can make it do what I want. If need be, make it suffer.