‘Would you help me, please?’ I found myself saying. All fear and nervousness had left me. I felt happy, and sure that somehow things would turn out for the best. ‘I want to help those children. I was on my way to see Arkwright, the spook, and take him to the house where the children are held captive.’
‘You needn’t waste your time going to get the aid of a spook,’ he replied as his image faded and vanished. ‘Look inside yourself. You have the strength and power to do whatever you wish! You need no one but yourself!’
I thought back to the Testing in Pendle; the time when a young potential witch is tested to see what her strengths are and what type of magic she should use. Mine had been a terrifying experience that had gone badly. But I had learned from it that I might one day become very powerful. Now I was hearing it again. Could I start to believe it?
‘What can I do against all those fierce witches?’ I asked. ‘Lizzie alone would sort me out proper in seconds. She’s forgotten more spells than I’ve managed to learn so far. And what about the sharp teeth and claws of the others? What have I got to match that?’
‘Match it? You can surpass it with ease. As I said, the power is within you. Look for it now! Search within yourself!’ continued the disembodied voice.
‘How can I do that?’ I asked.
‘Begin by closing your eyes . . .’ the voice said softly.
I obeyed, eager to learn. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be powerful and not spend my life being scared? I thought.
I could see the light flickering through the blood within my eyelids.
‘Relax and drift downwards!’ commanded the voice. ‘Go down into the darkness, deep within yourself.’
For a moment I fought that instruction. The thought of going down into darkness was scary. But I was already moving; it was too late. I sank slowly at first, then faster and faster. I left my stomach behind and fell, like a stone kicked into an abyss, anticipating some fearful impact when I reached the bottom. I was terrified. I was lost and about to be destroyed. Why had I listened to this boy?
But there was no blow, no collision. Instead I found myself floating in darkness, utterly at peace. And suddenly I discovered the power that the handsome boy had spoken of. It was inside me, part of me; something I owned. It was something that I had been born with. Until this moment I had not been aware that I possessed such strength. Whereas before I’d felt vulnerable, prone to being pushed and hurt by those around me, now I had no doubt that I had the strength to push back.
‘See – you don’t need spells, Alice, but speak them if they make you comfortable. All you need do is focus your mind and exert your will! Wish for what you want. Say to yourself, “My name is Alice.” Then be Alice. Nothing can then stand against you. Do you believe me?’
‘Yes! Yes I do!’ I cried. It was true. I had absolute faith in what the voice promised. When I’d promised little Emily that I would stop her from being harmed, the words had come out of me without prior thought. And I’d really believed what I said to her. Perhaps that was because, deep down, a part of me already knew that I possessed the power to make it happen?
‘Then go in peace and do what must be done in order to save those poor children. One day we will meet again, and then you will be able to help me.’
One second I was drifting happily in absolute darkness; the next I was standing on the canal towpath in the rain with the thunder rumbling overhead.
The barge had vanished.
Without hesitation, filled with a terrible certainty that I could intervene and rescue those children from the witches, I set off east towards the house of Salty Betsy.
I walked fast – but would I be too late?
I WAS DRIPPING wet by the time I was even halfway there, my hair soaked and my pointy shoes squelching in the soggy grass. And as I walked, the confidence and determination that had come to me on the canal slowly ebbed away.
Now the barge and its strange occupant seemed nothing but a dream. Had it really happened? If so, what I’d believed at the time now seemed foolish. Lizzie was a really strong malevolent witch. I thought of the sprogs that she could summon from the dark to torment me. They usually just scratched and nipped a bit, but the threat of worse was always there. One had once pushed itself into my left nostril. If I hadn’t screamed for mercy to make Lizzie relent, it might have crawled right up into my brain and started to feed. Could I really disobey her? I wondered.
There were no stars visible, so I wasn’t sure of the time, but it had to be approaching midnight. I walked even faster, finally breaking into a run.
Where was the house? It must be close by now. Then I remembered how difficult it had been even for Lizzie to find it. And she had studied the horizon in order to note its position. I had done the same, but it had been daylight then; now it was night, and the low cloud and rain obscured everything. Not only that, the magic cloaking it was very strong.
I became desperate. By now the witches might have already begun to kill the children. Where was the house?
Show yourself! I thought desperately. Show yourself!
And suddenly, lit by a flash of lightning, the house appeared.
It wasn’t as if I had got lucky and blundered through the cloak by chance. Because of the rain and poor visibility, like a small boat battling a storm, I had drifted off course. It was about two hundred strides to my left. I had been about to pass right by it.
Had I somehow broken through that powerful magical cloak with my will? Had I drawn upon the magic deep within me without even muttering a spell, just as the boy on the barge had told me I could?
I turned and began to run towards the house. Perhaps I wasn’t too late, after all . . .? But what would I do when I got there?
With its boarded-up windows, the house appeared to be in darkness, barely an outline against the clouds. But I knew that down in the cellar, flickering candles and torches would be illuminating a scene of horror.
Lightning flashed again almost directly overhead, showing the surface of the pond churning under the force of the rain, which hammered down on the roof and cascaded in sheets from the overburdened gutters.
I reached the front door and tried the handle. It turned, but the door resisted my pressure. They had locked it. I bent forward, preparing to spit into the lock and use the spell of opening. Lizzie had mastered it, but my grasp of it was less sure. I hadn’t used it by myself before. But then I remembered what the boy aboard the barge had said: