I was going to come back up to the attic. I had to do it. It was betraying the Spook but I couldn't let Dad suffer any more. So we waited and waited, listening nervously to every creak of the old house.

    When about a quarter of an hour had passed, I tapped Alice lightly on the shoulder, stood up carefully, picked up my staff and moved cautiously towards the bedroom door.

    It wasn't locked and I eased it open and stepped out onto the landing. It was even gloomier on the stairs, with a pool of darkness waiting for us below. I moved downwards, one slow step, pausing to listen before taking a second one. That became the pattern: step, pause and listen; step, pause and listen. At one point the stair creaked beneath my feet. We froze and waited for five minutes at least, thinking that we might have awakened the witch. And when Alice's feet caused a second creak from that same stair, we had to repeat the process! It took a long time, but at last we reached the ground floor.

    Moments later we were inside the Spook's study. It was brighter in there, and I could see my own bag still in the corner where I'd left it, but of the Spook's bag there was no sign. I took the silver chain and coiled it round my left hand and wrist, ready for throwing. That was my throwing arm: when practising in the Spook's garden, I could cast the chain over a post eight feet away, nine times out of ten. So now, face to face with either the feral lamia or Meg, I had a good chance of success. An attack by both at the same time would be a different story and I didn't like to think about that.

    Next I leaned forward and put my lips close to Alice's ear.

    'See if the key is on top of the bookcase,' I whispered, pointing upwards to the spot.

    There was a chance that Meg would keep the key to the gate close by her side, but I was remembering what the Spook had once told me about her: that she was methodical and always kept things in their proper place. He'd been talking about pots and pans, knives and forks. Would she do the same thing with the key? It was well worth checking to see.

    So while Alice carried a chair across and positioned it next to the bookcase, I stood guard by the open door, my chain at the ready. She climbed up onto the chair and felt carefully across the upper surface of the top shelf before smiling broadly and holding up the key.

    I'd been right! We had the key to the gate!

    Still gripping the chain, I picked up my staff and cautiously led the way out of the study towards the steps down to the cellar. I'd expected Meg to be awake but I could hear the sound of her breathing in the kitchen, the air whistling out of her mouth as she exhaled. She was sound asleep, and so far our luck had more than held.

    One option would have been to go straight into the kitchen and bind Meg while she was still sleeping, but I needed the chain to face the threat from the feral lamia in the cellar. We moved slowly down the steps, Alice now in the lead, until we reached the gate. This was a dangerous moment and I'd already explained how a clang from the gate could resonate right through the house. But Alice inserted the key into the lock very carefully and twisted it without a sound. She managed to do the same when moving the gate, which we left open in case we needed to get out of the cellar fast.

    It was very dark below and I tapped Alice lightly on the shoulder, the signal to halt. I pushed the chain back into my pocket, leaned my staff carefully against the wall and, using my tinderbox, lit a candle stub and handed it to Alice. Once again I followed one step behind her, chain and staff at the ready. The candle was a calculated risk because, although the steps spiralled downwards, a glimmer of light might reach the cellar to alert the feral lamia. But we really needed some light to attend to the Spook properly and get him out of his cell. As it happened, it proved to be the right decision...

    Suddenly Alice gasped, came to a sudden halt and pointed downwards. A cold draught was coming up the steps from the cellar, making the candle flame dance and flicker, and by its light I glimpsed a dark shape moving rapidly up the steps towards us. For a moment, my heart racing, I thought it was the feral lamia: I stepped down alongside Alice, raised my left hand and prepared to cast the silver chain.

    But as the draught from below ceased, the light steadied and I saw that the rapid movement of the dark shape was an illusion caused by the flicker of the flame. Something was moving up the steps, but it was crawling; dragging itself upwards so incredibly slowly that it would take a long time to reach the gate.

    It was Bessy Hill, the other live witch - the one who'd been in the pit next to the feral lamia. Her grey hair was long and greasy and heaving with small black insects, while her tattered gown was stained with mildew and patches of slime. She was slowly dragging her body up the stairs, but although she'd managed to get free of her grave, years of surviving on a diet of slugs, worms and other creepy-crawlies meant that she hadn't much power at her disposal. Of course, it might have been a very different story if we'd blundered into her in the dark.

    We came to a halt. If she managed to get a grip on one of our ankles it would be hard to prise her off. She wanted blood desperately and would fasten her teeth into any warm flesh that came near. A mouthful of blood would immediately make her much stronger and more dangerous. It was scary, but we had to get past her.

    I moved downwards nervously, gesturing to Alice that she should follow behind me. The steps were broad and we were able to give the witch a wide berth. I wondered how she'd managed to escape from her pit. One possibility was that the feral lamia had bent the bars for her. Or maybe Meg had released her. As we passed, I glanced down at her quickly. Her head was facing towards us but her eyes were tightly closed. Her mouth was open though, and her long purple tongue was protruding down onto the step, as if licking something from the damp stone. She sniffed, snuffled, twisted her head upwards and tried to lift her hand. When she opened her eyes they were like points of fire burning in the dark.

    We moved downwards quickly, leaving her behind. When we reached the landing with the three doors, I handed my staff to Alice. She accepted it with a grimace. She didn't like to touch rowan wood. But I was already pulling my own key from my pocket and it was the work of a moment to unlock the door to the Spook's cell.

    Until then I'd been worried that he might not be there. I thought that Meg might have moved him somewhere else, even putting him in a pit in the cellar. But there he was, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. As the candle flickered light into the cell, he looked towards us, but his expression was one of bewilderment. After glancing down the steps and listening carefully to check that the lamia wasn't coming up, I went into the cell with Alice and we helped the Spook to his feet. He made no resistance as we tugged him towards the door. He didn't seem to recognize either of us and I guessed that Meg had only recently given him a strong dose of the potion.

    My chain was back in my pocket now - not the best place for it if the lamia attacked, but I had no choice. Progress up the steps was slow as the Spook shuffled upwards, Alice and I supporting him by each elbow. I kept glancing backwards but there were no threatening sounds from below. When we came to the witch on the stairs, she was asleep, eyes tightly closed, snoring loudly through her open mouth. Climbing the steps had exhausted her for now.

    Soon we reached the gate. Once through it, Alice locked it carefully and quietly again and I took the key from her and slipped it into my pocket. We continued upwards until we arrived at the ground floor. The sound of Meg's breathing from the kitchen reassured me that she too was still asleep, so I now had an important decision to make. Either I could help Alice to get the Spook clear of the house or I could enter the kitchen and bind Meg with the silver chain.