For there, at the very centre of the floor, constructed from black stones, were three concentric circles and within them a five-pointed star. I knew immediately what it was and my worst fear was confirmed.
This was a pentacle, a device used by a mage from which to cast spells or summon daemons from the dark. But this had been constructed by the first men who came to Anglezarke in order to summon Golgoth, the most powerful of the Old Gods. And now Morgan was going to use it.
It seemed that Morgan knew exactly what he intended to do and he soon set me to work, ordering me to clean the floor until it gleamed, particularly the central section of the mosaic that depicted the pentacle.
'There mustn't be even one tiny speck of dirt, or it could all go wrong!' he said.
I didn't bother to ask what he meant because I'd worked it out already. He intended to follow the deadliest ritual in the grimoire. He was going to summon Golgoth while we stayed protected at its centre. Cleanliness was vital because dirt could be used to cross its defences.
There were several large tubs at the far side of the chamber and one of them contained salt. In the sack I'd carried, among the other items, including the grimoire, were a large flagon of water and some cloths. Using a damp cloth, I had to scour the mosaic with salt, then swill it clean until he was satisfied.
I seemed to be at it for hours. From time to time I glanced about, trying to see if there was anything in the chamber that might prove useful in helping me to overcome Morgan and escape. He must have dropped the spade in the passageway because there was no sign of it in the chamber; neither was there anything else that I could use as a weapon. I did notice a large iron ring set into the wall close to the floor and I wondered what it could be for. It looked like something for tethering an animal.
When I'd finished scouring the floor, to my horror, Morgan suddenly seized me, dragged me to the wall, bound my hands tightly behind my back and fastened the remainder of the rope to the ring. Then he began his preparations in earnest. I was sick to my stomach, as I suddenly realized what was going to happen. Morgan would work from within the pentacle, shielded from anything that appeared within the chamber, whereas I would remain tethered to that ring on the wall without any defence whatsoever. Was I going to be some sort of sacrifice? Was that what the ring had originally been made for? Then I remembered what the Spook had said about the farm dog. When Morgan had tried the ritual in his room, it had died of fright...
From the sack he produced five thick black candles and positioned one of these at the very tip of each of the points of the pentacle star. He then opened the grimoire, and as he lit each candle, he read out a short incantation from the book. That done, he sat down cross-legged at the very centre of the pentacle and, holding the book open, looked directly towards me.
'Do you know what day it is?' he demanded.
'It's a Tuesday' I answered.
'And the date?'
I didn't speak and he answered for me.
'It's the twenty-first of December. The Winter Solstice. The exact middle of the winter before the days gradually start to lengthen again. So if s going to be a long night. The longest night of the whole year. And when it's over, only one of us will leave this chamber,' Morgan said. 'My intention is to raise Golgoth, the most powerful of the Old Gods. And I'm going to do it here in the very place where it was done by the ancients. This barrow is built at a point of great power where leys converge. Five, no less, intersect at the very centre of the pentacle where I'm sitting.'
'Won't it be dangerous to wake Golgoth?' I asked. 'The winter might last for years.'
'What if it does?' Morgan asked. 'Winter is my time.'
'But crops won't grow. People will starve!'
'What of it? The weak always die,' said Morgan. 'The strong inherit the earth. The summoning ritual will give Golgoth no choice but to obey. And he'll be bound here, within this chamber, until I release him. Bound until he gives me what I want.'
'What do you want?' I asked. 'What can possibly make it worth hurting so many people?'
'I want power! What else makes life worthwhile? The power that Golgoth will give me. The ability to freeze the blood within a man's veins. To kill with a glance. All men will fear me. And in the depths of a long cold winter, when I kill, who will know that I've taken a life? And who will be able to prove it? John Gregory will be the second to die, but not the last. And you'll die before him.' Morgan laughed softly. 'You're part of the bait. Part of the lure to draw Golgoth here. I had to make do with a dog last time but a human being is so much better. Golgoth will take the little spark of life from your body and add it to his own. Your soul too. Your body and soul will both be snuffed out in an instant.'
'Are you really sure that pentacle will protect you?' I asked, trying not to think about what he'd said, attempting to place a bit of doubt in his mind. 'Rituals have to be exact. If you leave something out or mispronounce even one word, it might not work. In that case, neither of us will ever leave this chamber. We'll both be destroyed.'
'Who told you that? That old fool Gregory!' Morgan mocked. 'He would say that. And do you know why? It's because he lacks the nerve to try anything that's truly ambitious. All he's fit for is making gullible apprentices dig useless pits before filling them in again! For years he's tried to keep me from this. He even made me swear to my mother that I'd never attempt the ritual again. Love for her kept me bound to that promise, until her death freed me at last and finally made it possible for me to seize what's mine! Old Gregory is my enemy.'
'Why do you hate him so much?' I demanded. 'What's he ever done to hurt you? Everything he's done has been for the best. He's a better man than you by far and generous to a fault. He helped your mother when your real father left. He gave you an apprenticeship, and even when you turned to the dark, he spared you what you really deserved. A malevolent witch is no worse than you, and she's bound alive in a pit!'
'He could have done that, it's true,' Morgan said, his voice quiet and dangerous. 'But now it's too late. You're right. I do hate him. I was born with a splinter of darkness in my soul. It grew and grew until I'm now what you see before you today. Old Gregory is a servant of the light, whereas I belong fully to the dark now. Because of that, he's my natural enemy. The dark hates the light. Always it's been so!'
'No!' I cried. 'It doesn't have to be like that. You have a choice. You can be what you want. You loved your mother. You're capable of love. You don't have to belong to the dark, don't you see? It's never too late to change!'
'Save your breath and be silent!' Morgan snapped angrily. 'We've talked too much. It's time to begin the ritual. . .'
There was silence for a while and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart. At last Morgan began to chant from the grimoire, his voice rising and falling in a rhythmic, sing-song manner that reminded me very much of the way priests sometimes pray before a congregation. Most of it was Latin but there were also words from at least one language that I didn't recognize. It went on and on; nothing seemed to be happening. I began to hope that the ritual wouldn't work or he'd make a mistake and Golgoth wouldn't appear. But soon I sensed that something was changing.