Three loud raps echoed down the clough. At each rap I worked the bar, trying to lever the sash window upwards. In the pause that followed I became perfectly still.
Rap! Rap! Rap!
Again I worked at the window, but without a hint of success. I began to wonder how many times Andrew would knock before his nerve failed him. Maybe the catch was stronger than I'd anticipated. How many chances would we get? Maybe the witch would answer the door after all. If so, I wouldn't want to be in Andrew's shoes.
Rap! Rap! Rap!
This time, at last, I was successful. I levered the window up and, once there was sufficient gap, lifted it with both hands.
Rap! Rap! Rap! came the sound from below. Had I looked down I could have seen Andrew, but I fixed my gaze upon the window ledge and pulled myself through the window and into the room before returning the crowbar to my pocket. Alice leaned across and handed my staff to me, then came across the plank faster than I had. Once inside we heaved it across, just in case Meg came out into the yard and saw it from below. Then we closed the window.
That done, we sat together on the floor in the gloom, listening carefully. There were no more raps on the front door. I hadn't heard it opening, so I hoped Andrew had got away safely. The sound I dreaded now was that of Meg climbing the stairs. Had she heard the window being forced?
I'd already agreed with Alice that, if we got inside the house safely, we'd wait for fifteen minutes or so before making our move. The first step would be to get my bag from the Spook's study. Once the silver chain was in my hands, our chances of success were much higher.
But I hadn't told Alice what Morgan wanted me to do. I hadn't told her about the grimoire because I knew she'd say I was a fool to give it to him. But it was all very well for her to talk like that. It wasn't her dad who might suffer. His voice pleading in the dark kept coming back to haunt me. It was all too much to bear.
If I could rescue the Spook and somehow bind Meg,
I was going to come back up to the attic. I had to do it. It was betraying the Spook but I couldn't let Dad suffer any more. So we waited and waited, listening nervously to every creak of the old house.
When about a quarter of an hour had passed, I tapped Alice lightly on the shoulder, stood up carefully, picked up my staff and moved cautiously towards the bedroom door.
It wasn't locked and I eased it open and stepped out onto the landing. It was even gloomier on the stairs, with a pool of darkness waiting for us below. I moved downwards, one slow step, pausing to listen before taking a second one. That became the pattern: step, pause and listen; step, pause and listen. At one point the stair creaked beneath my feet. We froze and waited for five minutes at least, thinking that we might have awakened the witch. And when Alice's feet caused a second creak from that same stair, we had to repeat the process! It took a long time, but at last we reached the ground floor.
Moments later we were inside the Spook's study. It was brighter in there, and I could see my own bag still in the corner where I'd left it, but of the Spook's bag there was no sign. I took the silver chain and coiled it round my left hand and wrist, ready for throwing. That was my throwing arm: when practising in the Spook's garden, I could cast the chain over a post eight feet away, nine times out of ten. So now, face to face with either the feral lamia or Meg, I had a good chance of success. An attack by both at the same time would be a different story and I didn't like to think about that.
Next I leaned forward and put my lips close to Alice's ear.
'See if the key is on top of the bookcase,' I whispered, pointing upwards to the spot.
There was a chance that Meg would keep the key to the gate close by her side, but I was remembering what the Spook had once told me about her: that she was methodical and always kept things in their proper place. He'd been talking about pots and pans, knives and forks. Would she do the same thing with the key? It was well worth checking to see.
So while Alice carried a chair across and positioned it next to the bookcase, I stood guard by the open door, my chain at the ready. She climbed up onto the chair and felt carefully across the upper surface of the top shelf before smiling broadly and holding up the key.
I'd been right! We had the key to the gate!
Still gripping the chain, I picked up my staff and cautiously led the way out of the study towards the steps down to the cellar. I'd expected Meg to be awake but I could hear the sound of her breathing in the kitchen, the air whistling out of her mouth as she exhaled. She was sound asleep, and so far our luck had more than held.
One option would have been to go straight into the kitchen and bind Meg while she was still sleeping, but I needed the chain to face the threat from the feral lamia in the cellar. We moved slowly down the steps, Alice now in the lead, until we reached the gate. This was a dangerous moment and I'd already explained how a clang from the gate could resonate right through the house. But Alice inserted the key into the lock very carefully and twisted it without a sound. She managed to do the same when moving the gate, which we left open in case we needed to get out of the cellar fast.
It was very dark below and I tapped Alice lightly on the shoulder, the signal to halt. I pushed the chain back into my pocket, leaned my staff carefully against the wall and, using my tinderbox, lit a candle stub and handed it to Alice. Once again I followed one step behind her, chain and staff at the ready. The candle was a calculated risk because, although the steps spiralled downwards, a glimmer of light might reach the cellar to alert the feral lamia. But we really needed some light to attend to the Spook properly and get him out of his cell. As it happened, it proved to be the right decision...