‘We rescued one of yours from a pit in the spook’s mill,’ Lizzie said, as if that were all she needed to say to gain entry to the house.
But, if so, she was wrong. I didn’t like the look of this woman and sensed some threat from her. She wasn’t a witch, but she looked very confident as she faced Lizzie. That was unusual. This must be the ‘keeper’ of the water witches that Lizzie had referred to earlier. I couldn’t see why she’d want to live here with all those witches. What did she get out of it?
‘Aye, I know that, but what do you want?’
Lizzie forced a smile onto her face. ‘There’s something needs doing, so I want your help to form a coven with those you keep. Just once and for something special. There’ll be lots of blood for them; power too. What do you say?’
‘What’s your name and where be you from?’
‘My name is Bony Lizzie and I’m from Pendle.’
‘Not much love lost between those from Pendle and those I keep here,’ the woman replied. ‘There’s been trouble in the past – deaths on both sides.’
‘You’ll get no trouble from me, or the girl.’ Lizzie nodded at me. ‘Let bygones be bygones, eh? What I propose will be to the benefit of us all. Can’t I come inside and talk about it? What’s your name – can’t you at least tell me who I’m speaking to?’
I thought at first that she was going to refuse, but then she nodded. ‘My name’s Betsy Gammon and I’ll give you just five minutes of my time.’
With that, she stood aside, so I followed Lizzie inside. Betsy led us to the rear of the house and into the kitchen. It was dirty, full of rubbish, and there were flies everywhere, most of them disgusting big bluebottles. There was a small door on the right, and she opened it and began to descend some narrow stone steps, her candle sending scary shadows onto the wall. When we reached the cellar, I gazed about me in astonishment.
It was huge – at least three or four times the area of the farmhouse above. At some point, a great deal of excavation had been carried out – the reason, I realized, for the huge pile of soil next to the house. About half the cellar was taken up by a big pit full of water, but on a huge earthen shelf there were several tables and more than twenty stools. In the far corner lay four of those tubular skelt cages. Two of them were occupied; the creatures stared at us with hungry eyes, their long bone-tubes jutting out through the bars and quivering with anticipation.
Betsy settled herself down on a stool and stared up at us shrewdly. She didn’t invite us to sit. ‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘tell me what your proposal is.’
Although the woman wasn’t a witch, there was something very threatening about her. She was one of the most horrible people I’d ever met – and that says a lot when you come from a village of Pendle witches as I do.
‘Summon twelve of the sisters first,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll put it to all of ’em while you tell me what they say.’
Betsy Gammon shook her head. ‘I don’t think you understand what’s what here. Not very bright, most of them, are they? So they listen to me and do exactly what I say. They’ve got the talons and teeth, and I’ve got the brains.’ She tapped her head and gave us an evil smile. ‘So don’t waste any more of my time. Explain fully why you’re here! It don’t do to mess with Betsy!’
Lizzie’s face had gone red with anger and she began to mutter under her breath.
‘And don’t waste your Pendle spells on me!’ Betsy cried. ‘I’ve no magic of my own but I’m shielded by the sisters. Your spells can’t hurt me. And all I have to do is whistle, and twenty or more of those I keep will surge up out of that pit and rip you and the girl to shreds. I’ve half a mind to do it anyway!’ She lurched to her feet.
I jumped up in terror, but then Lizzie spoke. ‘Nay, hear us out . . .’ Her voice was surprisingly gentle, placating the woman. ‘I didn’t know how it was here, but you’ve put us right. I can see that you run things. Here, let me show you something . . .’
Lizzie pulled the egg out of her pocket, slowly unfolded the blue silken cloth and showed it to Betsy. ‘There’s power in this, lots of power!’ she exclaimed, eyes bright with excitement. ‘Stole it from a spook, I did. And a coven could get that power for itself. I’m offering to share it with those you keep.’
Betsy scowled at Lizzie, her little piggy eyes almost lost within her bloated face. ‘Why would you come here when you could share it with your own clan back in Pendle?’
‘Had a falling out with my sisters there,’ Lizzie lied smoothly. ‘Almost sent the Malkin assassin after me, they did. Best I stay away until things cool down a bit. That’s why I’ve come to you.’
‘You’re as good as dead if they send Grimalkin after you . . .’ Betsy nodded in agreement, her voice softening too. ‘So, tell me: what needs be done to get that power?’
‘It’s a full moon three nights from now,’ said Lizzie. ‘It has to be done then. We need to sacrifice seven children and drip their blood onto the egg. Then the whole coven performing this rite gets power. Each one of us can make any wish and it’ll come true within seven days!’
Lizzie was crafty, she was. I remembered the exact wording of what the egg had said:
Give me the heart’s blood of seven human children on the night of a full moon. Give me thirteen witches united in that deed, and I will give the one who holds the egg her heart’s desire! More power than she has ever dreamed of. Once my need is met, let her think only upon what she wishes, and it will be done within seven days.
Lizzie would be holding the egg, and only she would get her wish. The others would be cheated. And to achieve that, seven children would be murdered.
I KNEW LIZZIE killed people for their bones. I knew she probably sometimes murdered children – though she’d never done it in front of me before.
There was nothing I could do. If I made a fuss, it would be my bones she’d take. She didn’t have to spell it out. I knew how it was.
But this was worse than anything that had happened so far.
Seven children were going to be murdered so that Lizzie could get her wish from that evil leather egg. And this time I would be right there in the thick of it.
I’d be as guilty as Lizzie.