'So Morgan must have made a mistake,' I said. 'Golgoth arrived inside the pentacle-'
'Nay, lad,' said the Spook, shaking his head sadly, 'he must have recited the ritual word for word. You see, I'm to blame. I have Morgan's blood on my hands.'
'I don't understand. What do you mean?' I asked.
'I should have sorted him out then, after he tried to summon Golgoth all those years ago,' the Spook said.
'Morgan was very dangerous and beyond help even then. I knew that and should have put him in a pit, but his mother, Emily, begged and pleaded with me not to do it. He wanted power and was bitter and twisted with anger but she believed that was because life had treated him unfairly and he lacked a father to stand by him. I felt a bit sorry for the lad and cared for his mother so I let my heart rule my head. But deep down I knew that it wasn't a father he lacked. Mr Hurst and I had both tried to be that to him. No, what he really lacked was the discipline to be a spook, the courage and perseverance to dedicate his life to a craft that carries little in the way of worldly rewards. But instead of punishing him for trying to summon Golgoth, I simply terminated his apprenticeship and made him swear to me and his mother that he wouldn't pursue Golgoth or the grimoire.
'Cast out with no trade, Morgan sought power and wealth through necromancy and turned to the dark. I knew that each winter the temptation of Golgoth's power would grow, eventually becoming too much for him. So I set a trap for him, but only if he actually tried to summon the Lord of Winter would that trap be sprung-'
'Trap? What trap? I don't understand.'
'He was always lazy when it came to his studies,' said the Spook, scratching thoughtfully at his beard. 'Language was his weak point and he never learned his Latin vocabulary thoroughly. He was even worse at some of the other languages. He started to learn the Old Tongue in his third year. It was the language spoken by the first men who came to the County, the ones who built the Round Loaf and worshipped Golgoth. The ones who wrote the grimoire. He didn't get very far. He knew how to pronounce it, how to read the Old Tongue aloud, but there were serious holes in his knowledge.
'You see, lad, I couldn't take any chances. Our first duty is always to the County. So years ago I had the grimoire copied. The original text was destroyed and the new version bound within the original cover. Several words were changed in the book to make the rituals useless. But only one change was made to the Golgoth ritual. The word wioutan, which means 'without' or 'outside', was replaced by wioinnan, which means 'within' ...'
'So that's why Golgoth appeared with him inside the pentacle,' I said, astonished at the Spook's trap. He'd kept that secret for years.
'I didn't trust Morgan so I set a snare for him just in case. I went to a lot of trouble having the grimoire copied and changed, but as I said, our duty is to protect the County. Emily knew what I'd done but she had a lot more faith in him than I did. She thought he'd changed his ways and would never try to raise Golgoth again. He swore that to her, and I was there to witness that oath. I never made any bones about where the grimoire was. That desk was always on view and Morgan knew where to come, and eventually I was proved right. He would have come for it years ago but the oath to his mother held him fast. As soon as I heard that she'd died, I feared the worst and realized why Morgan had contacted me back in Chipenden ...'
There was a long silence and the Spook scratched at his beard again, very deep in thought.
'What happened at the end?' I asked. 'Why didn't Golgoth kill me? Why did he just go away?'
'After being summoned, his time within the pentacle was limited. Every moment he remained there he'd have been growing weaker. At last he had to go. He had no choice. Of course, had you let him out, things would have been different. He'd have been free to roam the County, which would have been gripped by an endless winter. So you did well, lad. You did your duty and nobody can ask more than that.'
'How did you find me?' I asked.
'For that, your first thanks must be to the girl. When you didn't come back as I expected, I went down to speak to Andrew and find out what time you'd left the shop. It was your friend Alice who told me where you'd gone. She wanted to come and help search for you but I'd have none of it. I work better alone -1 don't need a girl trailing at my heels. We almost had to tie her to the chair to stop her from following me. When I arrived, a blizzard was blowing in from the north-east and the chapel was deserted. I poked around the graveyard for a bit but I didn't stay long. There was only one person I could turn to then. The only one who could find you in those conditions.
'Meg soon sniffed you out. She found your staff in the copse up on the hill and traced you to the barrow. Didn't take her long to find the entrance, but when I pulled back the stone, the tunnel was blocked. So it was Marcia who dug you out. That's three who deserve your thanks.'
'Three witches,' I pointed out.
The Spook ignored me. 'Anyway, Alice will stay back at Andrew's place, as you'd expect. As for Meg and her sister, from now on they'll be down the cellar steps behind the gate - but it won't be locked.'
'So you and Meg are friends again?'
'No, things aren't the way they were when we first met. I'd like to put the clock back but it just isn't possible. You see, lad, we've come to an agreement.
Things can't carry on as they are, but I'll tell you more about it when you've rested.'
'What about Dad?' I asked. 'Will he be all right now?'
'He was a good man and now that Morgan's dead and his power broken, your dad should have nothing to fear. Nothing at all. Nobody knows exactly what happens after we die,' the Spook said with a sigh. 'If we did, there wouldn't be so many different religions all saying different things and all thinking they're right. To my mind it doesn't matter which one of them you follow. Or even if you walk alone and take your own path through life. As long as you live your life right and respect others' beliefs as your dad taught you, then you won't go far wrong. He'll find his way through to the light, all right. There's no need to worry about that. And thaf s enough talking for now. You've had a long difficult night so get yourself off to bed for a few hours.'
But it was more than just a few hours that I stayed in bed. I developed a raging fever and the doctor came up from Adlington three times before he was finally satisfied that I was on the mend. In fact it was almost a week before I was fit to come downstairs again, with most of the daylight hours spent wrapped in a blanket before the study fire.
The Spook didn't work me too hard at my lessons either, and it was another full week after that before I was finally fit enough to walk down into Adlington and see Alice. She was minding the shop alone. As no customers called, we had time for a long chat. We talked in the shop, leaning on the bare wooden counter.
While I'd been ill, the Spook had already visited and she knew most of what had happened. So all I had to do was fill in the details and apologize once more for keeping things from her.
'Anyway, Alice, thanks for telling the Spook I'd gone to the chapel. Otherwise I'd never have been found,' I said, reaching the end of my tale at last.
'I still wish you'd trusted me more, Tom. You should have told me a lot earlier what Morgan was doing to your dad.'