We moved downwards quickly, leaving her behind. When we reached the landing with the three doors, I handed my staff to Alice. She accepted it with a grimace. She didn't like to touch rowan wood. But I was already pulling my own key from my pocket and it was the work of a moment to unlock the door to the Spook's cell.
Until then I'd been worried that he might not be there. I thought that Meg might have moved him somewhere else, even putting him in a pit in the cellar. But there he was, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. As the candle flickered light into the cell, he looked towards us, but his expression was one of bewilderment. After glancing down the steps and listening carefully to check that the lamia wasn't coming up, I went into the cell with Alice and we helped the Spook to his feet. He made no resistance as we tugged him towards the door. He didn't seem to recognize either of us and I guessed that Meg had only recently given him a strong dose of the potion.
My chain was back in my pocket now - not the best place for it if the lamia attacked, but I had no choice. Progress up the steps was slow as the Spook shuffled upwards, Alice and I supporting him by each elbow. I kept glancing backwards but there were no threatening sounds from below. When we came to the witch on the stairs, she was asleep, eyes tightly closed, snoring loudly through her open mouth. Climbing the steps had exhausted her for now.
Soon we reached the gate. Once through it, Alice locked it carefully and quietly again and I took the key from her and slipped it into my pocket. We continued upwards until we arrived at the ground floor. The sound of Meg's breathing from the kitchen reassured me that she too was still asleep, so I now had an important decision to make. Either I could help Alice to get the Spook clear of the house or I could enter the kitchen and bind Meg with the silver chain.
If I succeeded in binding her, it would be over and the house would be back in our hands. But trying it was filled with risk. Meg might wake up suddenly -and nine times out of ten wasn't quite ten out of ten! I might miss, and Meg was incredibly strong. The Spook was in no condition to help, and the three of us would be at Meg's mercy. So I pointed down the passageway to the front door.
Moments later I had the door open and helped Alice to get the Spook outside. Next I took the candle from her, shielding it close to my body to stop it from going out.
'I've got something to do back in the house,' I told her. T won't be long, but get Mr Gregory away from here. Andrew should be waiting further down the clough-'
'Don't be daft, Tom!' Alice exclaimed, her face filled with concern. 'What could be so important as to make you want to go back in there?'
'Trust me, Alice. It's got to be done. I'll see you back at Andrew's-'
'There's something you ain't told me,' Alice complained. 'What is it? Don't you trust me?'
'Go on, Alice, please. Just do as I say. I'll explain it all to you later.'
Reluctantly Alice moved off down the hill, guiding the Spook by the elbow. She didn't look back and I could tell that she was really angry with me.
Up to the attic
Once inside, I closed the door behind me and started to climb the stairs. In my right hand I held the candle; in my left was my rowan staff. The silver chain was still in the left pocket of my sheepskin jacket. I moved up faster than we'd come down but I was still careful. I didn't want to wake Meg. I had another worry too. My key would be too big for the lock of the Spook's desk. I was going to have to force it open with the crowbar and that was likely to make more than just a bit of noise.
As I climbed upwards, I began to feel more and more uneasy. Meg was still sleeping, but she might wake up at any time. If she followed me up the stairs,
I could always re-position the plank and make my escape through the back bedroom window. But would I hear her coming in time? Alice was right. On the face of it, this was a daft thing to do. But I kept thinking of Dad and forced my legs to keep climbing the stairs.
It wasn't long before I was standing close to the attic door. I was just about to open it and go in when I heard a faint sound. It sounded like a sort of scratching ...
I listened nervously with my left ear close to the door and heard the scratching sound again. What could be making a noise like that? I'd no choice but to ignore it and try to get what Morgan wanted. I began to turn the handle. Only then, as I slowly stepped into the room, did I realize that I should have escaped with Alice and the Spook while I still had the chance. I should have told my master everything that had happened with Morgan and followed his advice. The Spook would have known how best to help Dad.
All my instincts now told me to run. It was as if a voice were screaming 'Danger! Danger! Danger!' over and over again inside my head. When I stepped inside,
I almost closed the door behind me. I felt a strong urge to do it, but somehow I managed to resist. It was gloomy so I lifted the candle above my head in order to see better; then there was a sudden blast of cold air and it guttered out.
Above, I could see the square pale outline of the skylight. It was wide open and there was a cold breeze wafting downwards into my face. Six small birds were perched on the edge of the skylight. They were silent, as if waiting patiently for something. And below them was the horror of that room.
The floorboards were scattered with feathers, splattered with blood and littered with fragments of dead birds. It was as if a fox had got into a chicken coop. There were wings, legs, heads, and hundreds and hundreds of feathers. Feathers falling through the air, swirling around my head, stirred by the chill breeze that was blowing through the skylight.
When I saw something much larger, I wasn't surprised. But the sight of it chilled me to the bone. Crouching in the corner, close to the writing desk, was the feral lamia, eyes closed, the top lids thick and heavy. Her body seemed smaller somehow but her face looked far larger than the last time I'd glimpsed it. It was no longer gaunt but pale and bloated, the cheeks almost two pouches. As I watched, the mouth opened slightly and a trickle of blood ran down her chin and began to drip onto the floorboards. She licked her lips, opened her eyes and looked up at me as if she had all the time in the world.
She'd been feeding. Feeding on the birds. She'd opened the skylight and then summoned the birds to her clawed, clutching hands, compelling them to fly to where she was waiting. Then, one by one, she'd begun to drink their blood, keeping the ones still alive close by with a spell of compulsion. They had wings but had lost the will to fly away.
I'd no wings, though I did have legs. But my legs wouldn't obey me and I stood, rooted to the spot with fear. She came towards me very slowly. Maybe it was because she was heavy, being so bloated with blood. Maybe she felt there was no hurry.
Had she scurried across the floor towards me, it would have been over. I'd never have left that attic. But she moved slowly. Very slowly. And the horror of watching her approach was enough to break the spell. Suddenly I was free. I could move. Move faster than I'd ever moved before.