‘But will they let us leave?’ I asked.

‘Best if we go without ’em noticing, lad. We’ll wait until nightfall, then you go down into the town. Most sailors like a drink or two – you’ll find them in the waterfront taverns. With a bit of luck you’ll be able to hire someone with a small boat.’

‘I’ll go with Tom,’ Alice said quickly, ‘and keep my eyes peeled for danger-’

‘No, girl, you stay with me and the dogs. The lad will be better off alone this time…’

‘Why can’t Alice come with me? Two pairs of eyes are better than one,’ I suggested.

The Spook glared at us in turn. ‘Are you two bound by an invisible chain?’ he asked, shaking his head. ‘You’ve hardly been apart lately. No, I’ve made up my mind. The girl stays here!’

Alice glanced at me and I saw fear flicker in her eyes as she thought of the blood jar, the only thing keeping the Fiend at bay. Inside that jar were six drops of blood: three of hers and three of mine. Alice was safe too – as long as she stayed close to me. But if I went down into the town alone, there was nothing to stop the Fiend taking his revenge upon her. So I knew that, although she didn’t argue now, she’d disobey the Spook and follow me. I set off down the hill soon after dark, leaving my cloak, bag and staff behind. It seemed that the islanders didn’t welcome spooks – or their apprentices. By now they could be searching for us in the town. The clouds had blown away and it was a clear starry night with a pale half-moon high in the sky. Once I’d walked a hundred yards or so I stopped and waited. It wasn’t long before Alice was by my side.

‘Did Mr Gregory try to stop you?’ I asked.

Alice shook her head. ‘Told him I was off hunting for rabbits, but he shook his head and glanced down at my feet so I know he didn’t believe me.’

I saw that her feet were bare.

‘I sneaked my shoes into your bag, Tom. Less chance of anyone thinking I’m a witch that way.’

We set off down the hill and soon emerged from the trees onto a grassy slope made slippery by the recent rain. Alice wasn’t used to going barefoot and slipped onto her bottom twice before we reached the first of the cottages and found a gritted track.

Ten minutes later we were in the town, making our way through the narrow cobbled streets towards the harbour. Douglas thronged with sailors, but there were a few women about too, some of them barefoot like Alice – so apart from being the prettiest by far, she didn’t stand out in any way.

There were almost as many seagulls as people and they seemed aggressive and fearless, swooping down towards people’s heads. I saw one snatch a slice of bread from a man’s hand just as he was about to take a bite.

‘Horrible birds, those,’ said Alice. ‘Rats with wings, they are.’

After a while we came to a broad, busy thoroughfare in which every fifth house seemed to be an inn. I glanced through the window of the first tavern. It looked full, but I didn’t realize how full until I opened the door. Warm air and a strong odour of ale wafted over me; the loud, boisterous crowd of drinkers inside were standing shoulder to shoulder. I saw that I would have to push my way in forcefully, so I turned, shook my head at Alice and led the way further down the street.

All the other inns we passed looked equally busy, but then I glanced down a side street that sloped away towards the harbour and saw what looked like another tavern. When I opened the door, it was almost deserted, with just a few men sitting on stools at the bar. I was about to step inside when the proprietor shook his fist at me and Alice.

‘Be off with you! We don’t allow riff-raff in here!’ he shouted.

I didn’t need telling twice – the last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself. I was just about to head back towards the main thoroughfare when Alice pointed in the opposite direction.

‘Try there, Tom. Looks like another tavern further down…’

She was soon proved right. It was right at the end of the narrow street, on the corner, the main door facing towards the harbour. Like the last tavern, it was almost empty, with just a few people standing at the bar clutching tankards of ale. The proprietor looked across at me with interest rather than hostility, and that curiosity quickly decided me – it was better to get out. But just as I turned to go, a voice called my name.

‘Well, if it isn’t Tom Ward!’ And a large red-faced man with side whiskers strode towards me.

It was Captain Baines of the Celeste, the ship that Mam had chartered for our voyage to Greece the previous summer. He operated out of Sunderland Point. No doubt he’d sailed here with a hold full of those fleeing the invaders.

‘It’s good to see you, lad. The girl too!’ he said, looking at Alice, who was standing in the open doorway. ‘Come across and warm yourselves by the fire.’

The captain wore a long, dark, waterproof coat with a thick grey woollen jumper underneath: sailors certainly knew how to dress for cold weather. He led the way back to a bare wooden table in the corner, and we sat down on stools facing him.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.

I nodded. I was starving. Apart from a few mouthfuls of cheese, the last thing we’d eaten had been the rabbits that Alice had cooked the previous night.

‘Landlord, bring us two steak and ale pies and make them piping hot!’ he called out towards the bar, then turned back to face us. ‘Who brought you across the water?’ he asked, lowering his voice.

‘We came in a small fishing boat. We were dropped south of Douglas but ran into trouble right away. We were lucky to escape. A man with a club tried to arrest us but Mr Gregory knocked him out.’

‘Where’s your master now?’

‘He’s up on the hillside south of the town. He sent me down to see if I could hire a boat to take us further west to Ireland.’

‘You’ve little chance of that, young Tom. My own ship, the Celeste, is impounded and has armed guards on board. As for the people I brought here, they’re all in custody. Same with the refugees from the other ships. You can’t really blame the islanders though. The last thing they want is for the invaders to come here. They’re scared of witches fleeing the County too – and with good reason. A small fishing boat came ashore to the north. Both crew members were dead – they’d been drained of blood and their thumb-bones cut away.’

At that Alice gave a little gasp. I knew what she was thinking. The Pendle witches would no doubt stay put and wait to see what happened. But this could well be the work of another witch – some would have fled the County – and what if it was Alice’s mother?

What if Bony Lizzie was at large on the island?

We both tucked into our hot steak and ale pies while the captain told us what he knew. It seemed that almost all the refugees were being returned to the County. The leaders of the island’s Ruling Council were afraid that if they weren’t, Mona would be the next place to come under attack.

‘That’s why the Celeste is impounded. Soon I’ll be sailing back to Sunderland Point, returning those who fled to the tender mercies of the enemy. There’ll still be armed guards on board to make sure that I do just that. The only ones who’ll stay here are the witches they find – not that I was carrying any. Mind you, some who aren’t really witches will be tested and found guilty. No doubt innocents will suffer…’

He was referring to what the Spook called the ‘falsely accused’. He was right: no doubt at least one real witch had reached Mona, but many other innocent women would be forced to pay a terrible price for what she’d done.

‘My advice would be to head inland, then towards the south-western coast. There’s a fishing town, Port Erin, and lots of small villages further south on that peninsula. Refugees aren’t likely to put ashore there, so there’ll be fewer people watching out for them. You might get yourselves a passage to Ireland from there…’