I walked along the front hedge that separated the small front gardens from the track, and went down the path of the first house in order to talk to ‘Beth’. I was about to knock on the door when I heard the sound of voices. One of them sounded like my master’s.
So I strolled round the side of the house. My first surprise was that there was a large, well-maintained back garden; an area of lawn bordered by flowers, and beyond that an extensive vegetable and herb garden. Two people were sitting on a bench sipping tea from small cups. One was indeed the Spook; the other was a dainty white-haired woman. I liked the look of her immediately. She was old, yet there was something extremely youthful about the joyful expression in her laughing green eyes.
It was good to see the Spook looking so relaxed and at ease. It was a rare sight these days.
‘Well, lad, you certainly took your time!’ he exclaimed. ‘Come here and meet Beth.’
‘Hello, boy,’ said the old lady. ‘I’ve been hearing all about you. Your master tells me you’re a good apprentice. But let me judge for myself. Come closer and tell me what you think. Am I a witch or not?’
I approached her as she beamed up at me from the bench. There was no feeling of coldness to warn me that I was dealing with someone or something from the dark. That wasn’t always a factor, but I was almost certain that she wasn’t a witch.
‘Well, lad, speak up!’ commanded my master. ‘Don’t be afraid to talk in front of Beth. Is she or isn’t she?’
‘Beth isn’t a malevolent witch,’ I answered.
‘On what do you base that judgement?’ he asked.
‘I have no feeling of warning coldness, but more than that, I trust my instincts. They tell me that Beth isn’t a servant of the dark. And Mr Briggs didn’t offer any real evidence. Anyone can accuse someone of being a witch for their own reasons. Some witchfinders do that, don’t they? They burn someone as a witch just so they can confiscate their property.’
‘That they do, lad.’
‘What am I supposed to have done?’ Beth asked, still smiling.
‘Mr Briggs’s hens won’t lay and he says his dog dropped down dead after he complained to you.’
‘She was a very old dog and not in good health,’ she told me. ‘And there could be lots of reasons why his hens have stopped laying.’
‘Aye, I totally agree,’ said the Spook, coming to his feet. ‘Thanks for the tea, Beth Briggs. You make the best in the County!’
I glanced at them both in astonishment. She had the same name as her accuser . . . What was going on? Was my master testing me in some way – trying to see if I could quickly get to the root of a situation that he was already familiar with?
With that, the Spook led me out of the garden and back along the front hedge towards the house where Mr Briggs lived. He rapped hard on the front door.
The man opened it and scowled at us aggressively.
‘Beth isn’t a witch,’ asserted the Spook, ‘as you well know! This isn’t the first time she’s been falsely accused by you. So let that be an end to it. Don’t waste my time or that of my apprentice again. Do you hear?’
‘Scratch any woman, and just beneath the skin you’ll find a witch!’ said Briggs with a sneer.
The Spook shook his head. ‘Well, you should know, you old fool! After all, you were married to Beth for thirty-eight years! So she must have used some pretty powerful magic to tolerate being close to a malicious idiot like you for so long!
‘Come on, lad!’ he said, turning to me. ‘We have more important things on our minds.’
Soon we were striding back across the fields towards Chipenden, my master setting quite a pace. His joints did indeed seem better today.
‘They were married? So what was all that about?’ I asked.
‘Beth finally got sick of him, and when her mother died and left her the other cottage, she left him. No doubt she’d prefer to be twenty miles further away, but it’s better than sharing a house. It’s the third time he’s accused her of witchcraft since they parted, and that was my third visit here. I just thought I’d come along and see how you handled the situation. Not all spook’s business involves dealing with the dark.
‘But you did well, lad,’ he continued. ‘And there was another reason why I came along. I wanted to stretch my legs, get a bit of pure County air into my lungs and do a bit of clear-headed thinking. I’ve spent too much time brooding recently – worrying and doing little. Now sit yourself down and listen to what I’ve got to say,’ he said, pointing to a stile we were approaching.
I set our bags down next to the hedge, took a seat and watched the Spook pacing up and down in front of me, his boots flattening the long grass. It reminded me of our lessons in the pretty western garden behind his house, where there were no bound witches or boggarts. It was a long time since we’d done that, and I missed it. Nowadays he usually taught me in his new library or at the kitchen table.
‘We’ve already agreed that we can’t use the ritual – it’s barbaric. But we need to ask ourselves some serious questions.’ The Spook came to a halt and looked me straight in the eye. ‘I asked you what your mam looked like when she appeared to you in Malkin Tower. You said she was like a fierce angel, but then she changed into the woman I spoke to at your farm – the woman we accompanied to Greece to fight the Ordeen. I remember her well. She had an honest, open face. I sensed a tremendous strength in her and, above all, goodness. That woman would never ask you to sacrifice Alice – never mind kill her in such a cruel, inhuman way. So my conclusion is this, lad. You’ve been deceived. That wasn’t your mam. Someone or something was impersonating her.’
I could understand why the Spook said what he did. But this time his instincts had let him down. I still knew things that he didn’t. Now was the time to tell him more.
‘Just before she left me, Mam turned back into that cruel angel. She’s very old, and only a very small part of her existence has been in human form. She became Mam for two reasons. One was because she loved my dad and wanted to repay him for rescuing her when she was chained to a rock, about to perish in the sun’s lethal rays. The other reason was so that she could have me – a seventh son of a seventh son. I would be her son as well as my father’s, so I would inherit some of her gifts, such as the ability to slow or halt time – the gifts that have helped us come through some dangerous situations and bind the Fiend. She had me so that I would be a weapon to be used against the Fiend. That was why I was born. She would do anything to put an end to him. And if it means killing Alice – then she would do that too.’