'I don't think you'd like it much up on Anglezarke. The cellar's full of pits and he has two live witches down there, and one of them is Meg's sister and she's a feral lamia. Watching her scuttle about her pit is really scary. But I feel most sorry for Meg herself. You were right about her. She does live in the house with the Spook, but he's got her dosed up with a potion so that she can't remember who she is. She spends more than half the year locked in a room downstairs near the cellar. It's really sad to watch. But the Spook hasn't any choice. It's either that or put her in a pit like her sister.'

    'It ain't right to keep a witch in a pit. Never did hold with that. But I'd still rather be there with you than here having to see Morgan most days. I feel lonely, Tom. I miss you!'

    'I miss you too, Alice, but there's nothing I can do about it at the moment. I will tell the Spook what you've said though, and ask him again. I'll do my best, I promise. Anyway, is Morgan down there now?' I asked, nodding towards the farm.

    Alice shook her head. 'Not seen him since yesterday. No doubt he'll be back soon.'

    We didn't talk much longer after that because Mrs Hurst, the farmer's wife, came to the back door and started yelling Alice's name, so she had to go.

    Alice pulled a face and raised her eyes to heaven.

    'I'll come back and see you soon!' I said as she turned to go.

    'Do that, Tom. But ask Old Gregory, please!'

    I didn't go straight back to the Spook's house though. I climbed right up onto the moor, to where the wind could blow the cobwebs from my mind. My first impression was that the moor-top was pretty flat, and the scenery was nowhere near as good as on the fells above Chipenden. Neither was the view of the countryside below as dramatic.

    Still, there were higher hills to the south and east, and beyond Anglezarke, even more moors. There was Winter Hill and Rivington directly south, Smithhills beyond that and, to the east, Turton Moor and Darwen Moor. I knew that because I'd studied the Spook's maps before we left, taking care to fold them properly afterwards. So I already had a good idea of the layout of the area in my head. There was lots to explore and I decided I'd ask the Spook if I could have a day off to do just that before the winter weather really closed in. I thought he'd probably agree because part of a spook's job is to know the geography of the County, in order to get quickly from place to place and find the way when someone sends for help.

    I walked further until I saw a small domed hill in the distance, right on top of the moor. It looked artificial and I guessed that it was a barrow, a burial mound for some ancient chieftain. Just as I was about to turn away, a figure appeared on its summit. He carried a staff in his left hand and wore a cloak with its hood pulled forward. It had to be Morgan!

    His appearance on the barrow was so sudden that it almost seemed as if he'd materialized out of thin air. However, common sense told me that he'd simply walked up the slope on the far side of the hill.

    But what was he doing? I couldn't work it out. It looked like some sort of dance! He was throwing himself about and waving his arms in the air. Then, very suddenly, he gave a roar of rage and hurled his staff to the ground. He was in a fury. But at what?

    A moment later and a patch of mist drifted in from the east to hide him, so I walked on. I certainly didn't fancy meeting him face to face. Especially with the mood he was in!

    After that I didn't stay too long up on the moors. Anyway, if I returned in reasonable time, the Spook would be more likely to let me go and see Alice again soon. And I wanted to get back and tell him what I had learned.

    So after our midday meal I told my master about seeing Morgan up on the moor and all that Alice had said about him.

    The Spook scratched his beard and sighed. 'The girl's right. Morgan's a nasty piece of work, that's for sure. He dresses like a spook, and that's what some gullible folk now think he is. But he lacked the discipline to master our trade. He was lazy too and liked to cut corners. It's almost eighteen years since he left me, and since then he's mostly been up to no good. He fancies himself as a mage and takes money from good honest folk who are at their most vulnerable. I tried to stop him falling into bad ways but some people, it seems, just refuse to be helped.'

    'A mage?' I asked, not familiar with the word.

    'It's another word for a magician or wizard, lad. Someone who practises so-called magic. He does a bit of healing too, but his speciality is necromancy.'

    'Necromancy? What's that?' I asked. I'd never heard the Spook use that term before either and I realized I'd have a lot of notes to write up in my book after our chat.

    'Think, lad. It comes from the Greek, so you should be able to work out what it means!'

    'Well, nekros means 'corpse',' I said, after a bit of careful thinking. 'So I suppose it's something to do with the dead.'

    'Good lad! He's a mage who uses the dead to help him and give him power.'

    'How?' I asked.

    'Well, as you know, ghosts and ghasts are both part of the job. But whereas we give 'em a good talking to and send 'em on their way, he does the opposite. He uses the dead. He uses them as spies. Encourages them to stay trapped on earth - to serve his purposes and help him line his pockets with silver. Sometimes by tricking vulnerable, grieving folk'

    'Is he just a fraud, then?' I asked.

    'No, he talks to the dead all right. So remember this and remember it well: Morgan is a dangerous man and his meddlings with the dark have given him some very real and dangerous powers which we should fear. He's ruthless too, and would seriously hurt anyone who got in his way. So stay well clear, lad.'

    'Why haven't you stopped him before now?' I asked. 'Shouldn't you have sorted him out years ago?'

    'It's a long story' said my master. 'Happen I should have, but the time wasn't right then. We'll deal with him soon. Try to steer clear of him till we're ready -and stop telling me how to do my job!'

    I hung my head and my master tapped me lightly on the arm. 'Come on, lad, no harm done. Your point's a good one. I'm glad to see you're thinking with your head. And the girl did well to spot him talking to his sister's ghost. That's exactly why I placed her there, to look out for things like that!'

    'But that's not fair!' I protested. 'You knew that Alice would have a hard time of it there.'

    'I knew it wouldn't be a bed of roses, lad. But the girl has to make up for what she's done in the past and she's more than capable of looking after herself. Still, once we've dealt with Morgan, it'll be a far happier household. But first we've got to find him.'

    'Alice says the Hursts lied. Morgan visits the farm a lot.'

    'Does he now!'

    'She said he isn't there at the moment but he could come back at any time.'

    'Well, perhaps that's where we should start our search tomorrow,' the Spook said, looking thoughtful.

    When the silence lengthened, I kept my promise to Alice even though I knew it was a waste of time asking.

    'Couldn't Alice stay with us again?' I asked. 'She's really having a terrible time. It's cruel to leave her when there's room enough for her here.'

    'Why ask a question when you already know the answer?' said the Spook, glaring at me angrily. 'Don't talk soft. If you let your heart rule your head, then the dark will beat you every time. Remember that, lad - it may just save your life one day. And we've enough witches living here already'

    So that was the end of that. But we didn't visit the Hursts' farm the following day. Something happened that changed everything.