Late in the evening of the second day, even before we reached the summit of Hangman's Hill, I saw smoke rising into the sky from the direction of the farm. For a moment fear clutched at my heart. I remembered the raid carried out by the Pendle witches last year: they'd burned our barn to the ground before ransacking the house and abducting Ellie, Jack and little Mary.
But as we began our descent through the trees towards the north pasture, what I saw was more a cause for wonder than fear. There were campfires to the south of the farm – a dozen or more – and smells of wood smoke and cooking were in the air. Who were those people camping in Jack's fields? I knew he wouldn't welcome strangers on his farm so I wondered if it had something to do with Mam.
But I'd little time to think about that because I sensed at once that she was home already. Faint brown smoke was rising from the chimney into the blue sky and I felt the warmth of her presence. Somehow I just knew that she was back!
'Mam's here now – I'm sure of it!' I told the Spook, my eyes glistening with tears. I'd missed her so much and couldn't wait to see her again.
'Aye, lad, maybe you're right. You go down and say hello. You'll have a lot to talk about and be wanting some privacy. I'll wait up here.'
I smiled, nodded and ran down the wooded slope towards the new barn. But before I could reach the farmyard, my brother Jack came round the corner into my path. The last time I'd seen him he'd been seriously ill after being beaten to within an inch of his life by the witches who had raided the farm and stolen Mam's trunks. Now he was tanned by the sun and looked strong and healthy again, his eyebrows bushier than ever. He gripped me in a bear hug and almost squeezed the breath from my body.
'Good to see you, Tom!' he exclaimed, holding me at arm's length and smiling broadly.
'It's great to see you fit and well, Jack,' I told him.
'And no little thanks to you. Ellie told me everything. I'd be six feet under now if it wasn't for you.'
Together with Alice I'd helped to rescue Jack and his family from Malkin Tower.
'Mam's back already, isn't she?' I asked excitedly.
Jack nodded but the smile slipped from his face. There was a certain uneasiness; a hint of uncertainty and sadness in his expression.
'Yes, she's back, Tom, and she's really looking forward to seeing you again, but I have to warn you that she's changed—'
'Changed? What do you mean, changed?'
'At first I hardly recognized her. She has a wildness about her – especially her eyes. And she looks younger, as if she's cast off the years. I know that doesn't seem possible but it's true . . .'
Although I didn't say anything to Jack, I knew only too well that this might well be the case. Human rules of ageing didn't apply to lamia witches. As the Spook's Bestiary had explained, there are two forms for a lamia, and they slowly change from one to the other. Mam was possibly slowly shape-shifting her way back to her feral state. It was a disturbing and scary possibility. Not something I wanted to think about too much.
'Tom – you know all about these things because of your line of work . . . could she be a changeling?' Jack asked anxiously, his face suddenly full of fear and doubt. 'Anything could have happened while she's been in Greece. Maybe she's been captured by goblin folk and replaced with one of their own?'
'No, Jack. Of course not,' I reassured him. 'There's no such thing as goblin folk. It's just a superstition. So don't you worry about that. I'm sure it's just the warm Greek weather agreeing with her. I'll go and see her and we'll talk later. Where's James?'
'James is busy. He's making more money with the forge than I am with the farm at the moment. But I'm sure he'll find time for his youngest brother.'
James was living here now and helping Jack out with the chores, but by trade he was a blacksmith. It sounded like his new business was shaping up to be a real success.
'Who are all those people camping in the south meadow?' I asked, remembering the fires I'd seen as we'd descended Hangman's Hill.
Jack scowled at me and shook his head angrily. 'You'd better ask Mam that question!' he retorted. 'But I tell you – they have no right to be here. No right at all! Witches from Pendle, they are. And to think they're camping in my field after all that happened last year.'
Witches? If indeed they were, I could hardly blame him for being angry. The Pendle witches had put Jack and his family through hell last year. With that in mind, why would Mam allow them so close to the farm?
I shrugged at Jack and set off across the farmyard.
Just behind the barn, facing the rear of the house, I saw a new building – and James, working at his forge within, his back to me. Just outside in the yard, a farmer was holding the reins of a horse waiting to be shod. I almost called across to James but I couldn't wait to see Mam.
As I approached the house, I was surprised to see Mam's climbing rose bush in flower. Last time I'd been here it had looked dead – the blackened and withered stems had been ripped from the wall when the Fiend attacked the house in his attempt to kill me. Now there were new green shoots climbing up the stones and a few roses were in bloom, gleaming a bright County red in the sunshine.
I paused at the back door and rapped lightly on the wood. I'd been born and brought up in this farmhouse but it was now no longer my home and it was polite to knock.
'Come in, son,' Mam called, and at the sound of her voice my eyes watered and a lump filled my throat.
How I'd missed her! I stepped into the kitchen and we were suddenly face to face.
She was perched on a stool, stirring the big pot of lamb stew that simmered over the fire. As usual, the curtains were drawn to keep out the sunlight, but even in the gloom, when she got to her feet and took a step towards me, I could see what Jack had meant when he said she'd changed.
Her smile was warm but her face was a little gaunt, her cheekbones more prominent than before. Her black hair was no longer streaked with grey and she really did look younger than when I'd last seen her eighteen months earlier. But in her eyes I saw a wildness; an anxious, haunted look.
'Ah, son . . .' she said, and she put her arms around me and pulled me close. Her warmth enfolded me and I sobbed deep in my throat.
Holding me at arm's length, she shook her head. 'Sit yourself down, son, and be strong. It's good to be together again, but we've lots to say to each other and we both need clear heads.'