The Spook's Mistake

It was the lad, Toddy, who'd spoken, and for a moment there was an uneasy silence. I could tell that the sergeant didn't like being contradicted.

'Well, Toddy,' he answered, an edge of anger to his voice, 'depends who's looking for work, a boy or a man. And it depends what kind of work we're talking about. Still, I know the job for you. There's one spook who'll be looking for a new apprentice. I think that's just the job you need!'

Toddy shook his head. 'Wouldn't like it much. Witches scare me. '

'Just old wives' tales. There are no witches. Come on, Toddy. Tell me! When have you seen a witch?'

'Had an old witch in our village once,' Toddy replied. 'She'd a black cat and used to mutter under her breath. She had a wart on her chin too!'

'The cat or the witch?' mocked the sergeant.

'The witch.'

'A witch with a wart on her chin! Well, doesn't that just have us all shaking in our boots, lads,' brayed the sergeant sarcastically. 'We need to get you apprenticed to a spook and then, when you've finished your training, you'll be able to go back and deal with her!'

'No,' said Toddy. 'Wouldn't be able to do that. She's dead already. They tied her hands to her feet and threw her in the pond to see if she'd float. '

The men roared with laughter but I couldn't see what was funny. She'd clearly been what the Spook called 'falsely accused' — a poor old woman who didn't deserve to be treated like that. Those who sank were presumed innocent but often died of shock or pneumonia if they hadn't already drowned.

'Well, Toddy? Did she float?' the sergeant demanded.

'She did, but face down in the water. They fished her out to burn her but she was already dead. So they burned her cat instead.'

There was another burst of cruel laughter even louder than the first, but the conversation soon became desultory before ceasing altogether. I think I must have dozed off because I suddenly became aware that it had grown extremely cold. Only an hour previously, a chill damp autumn wind had been gusting through the trees, bending the saplings and causing older branches to creak and groan; now everything was perfectly still and the ground was coated with hoar frost that sparkled in the moonlight.

The fire had died right down until there were just a few glowing embers. There was plenty of wood lying in a heap at the side, but despite the bitterly cold air, nobody had made a move to fuel the fire. All five soldiers were simply staring at the cooling embers as if in a trance.

Suddenly I sensed something approaching the clearing. The soldiers did too. They came to their feet as one and peered out into the darkness. A shadowy figure emerged from amongst the trees, moving towards us so silently that it appeared to be floating rather than walking. As it drew nearer, I felt fear rising in my throat like bile and stood up nervously.

My body was already cold, but there's more than one kind of cold. I'm the seventh son of a seventh son and I can sometimes see, hear or sense things that ordinary people can't. I see ghosts, and ghasts; hear the dead talk; feel a special kind of cold when something from the dark approaches. I had that feeling now, stronger than I'd ever felt it before, and I was scared. So scared that I began to tremble from head to foot. Could it be the Fiend, come for me at last?

There was something about the head of the approaching figure that disturbed me deeply. There was no wind yet its hair seemed to be moving; writhing in an impossible way. Could this be the Fiend approaching now?

The figure moved closer; suddenly it entered the clearing so that moonlight fell on it properly for the first time.

But it wasn't the Fiend. I was looking at a powerful malevolent witch. Her eyes were like fiery coals and her face was contorted with hatred and malice. Yet it was her head that terrified me most of all. Instead of hair, she had a nest of black snakes that writhed and coiled, forked tongues flickering, fangs ready to inject their venom.

Suddenly there was a moan of animal terror from my right. It was the sergeant. For all his brave words, his face was now deformed by fear, his eyes bulging in his head, mouth open as if to scream. But instead he gave another moan, deep from within his belly, and set off into the trees, heading north at full pelt. His men followed, with Toddy bringing up the rear, and I could hear them in the distance, their frantic footsteps receding until they'd faded away altogether.

In the silence I was left alone to face the witch. I had no salt, no iron, no staff, and my hands were still bound behind my back, but I took a deep breath and tried to control my fear. That was the first step when dealing with the dark.

But I needn't have worried. Suddenly the witch smiled and her eyes ceased to glow. The coldness within me ebbed. The snakes stopped writhing and became a head of black hair. The contortions of the face relaxed into the features of an exceptionally pretty girl and I looked down at the pointy shoes that I knew so well. It was Alice, and she was smiling at me.

I didn't return her smile. All I could do was stare at her, horrified.

'Cheer up, Tom,' Alice said. 'Scared 'em so much they ain't going to follow us. You're safe enough now. Ain't nothing to worry about.'

'What have you done, Alice?' I said, shaking my head. 'I sensed evil. You looked like a malevolent witch. You must have used dark magic to do that!'

'Ain't done nothing wrong, Tom,' she said, reaching out to untie me. 'The others were scared and it spread to you, that's all. Just a trick of the light really. '

Appalled, I pulled away from her. 'Moonlight shows the truth of things, you know that, Alice. It's one of the things you told me when we first met. So is that what I've just seen? What you really are? Have I seen the truth?'

'No, Tom. Don't be silly. It's just me, Alice. We're friends, ain't we? Don't you know me better than that? Saved your life more than once. Saved you from the dark, I have. Ain't fair, you accusing me like that. Not when I've just rescued you again. Where would you be now without me? I'll tell you — on your way to war. You might never have come back.'

'If the Spook had seen that. ' I shook my head. It would have been the end of Alice for sure. The end of her time living with us. My master might even have put her in a pit for the rest of her days. After all, that's what he did with witches who used dark magic.

'Come on, Tom. Let's be away from here and back to Chipenden. The cold's starting to get into my bones.'

With those words, she cut my bonds and we headed straight back towards the Spook's house. I carried the sack with what was left of the provisions and we walked in silence. I still wasn't happy at what I'd seen.

The next morning, as we tucked into our breakfast, I was still worrying about what Alice had done.

The Spook's pet boggart made our meals; it was mostly invisible but occasionally took the form of a ginger cat. This morning it had cooked my favourite — bacon and eggs — but it was probably one of the worst it had ever put on the table. The bacon was burned to a crisp and the eggs were swimming in grease. Sometimes the boggart cooked badly when something had upset it; it seemed to know things without being told. I wondered if it was concerned about the same thing I was: Alice.

'Last night when you walked into the clearing, you scared me, Alice. Scared me badly. I thought I was facing a malevolent witch — one of a type I'd never met before. That's exactly what you looked like. You had a head of snakes rather than hair and your face was twisted with hatred.'

'Stop nagging me, Tom. It ain't fair. Just let me eat my breakfast in peace!'

'Nagging? You need nagging! What did you do? Come on, tell me!'

'Nothing. I did nothing! Leave me alone. Please, Tom. It hurts me when you go on at me like that.'

'It hurts me to be lied to, Alice. You did something and I want to know exactly what.' I paused, blazing with anger, and the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. 'If you don't tell me the truth, Alice — then I'll never trust you again!'