"I'm surprised Father Stocks has allowed it to fall into neglect like this…"The presbytery *was a good-sized cottage set back under a dozen or so yew trees about a hundred yards beyond the church. We reached it by walking in single file along a narrow, overgrown path that snaked through the tombstones. When we arrived at the front door, the Spook rapped hard on it three times. After a few moments we heard the sound of heavy boots on flags; then a bolt was drawn back and the door opened. Father Stocks stood there, a look of astonishment on his face."Well, this is a surprise, John," he said, relaxing his face into a smile. "I wasn't expecting you until later in the week. Anyway, come in, the both of you, and make yourselves at home!"We followed him through to the kitchen at the back of the house, and he invited us to sit down. "Have you eaten?" he asked as we each pulled a chair away from the table. "What about you, young Tom? You look hungry enough to eat a horse!"

"I am hungry, Father," I told him, glancing toward the Spook, "but I'm not sure if we should be eating…"The Spook always insists that we fast when working because it makes us less vulnerable to the power of the dark, so we usually make do with a nibble of County cheese to keep our strength up. A spook's life is not only scary, dangerous, and lonely; it often means going hungry as well."It wouldn't do any harm to eat breakfast," said the Spook, to my surprise. "We need information before anything else, and I was hoping, Father, that you'd be the man to get it for us. So we won't get much done ourselves until tomorrow. This could be the last square meal we eat for quite some time, so, yes, please, I think we'll accept your kind invitation."

"So be it!" exclaimed Father Stocks, his face lighting up. "I'll be happy to help in any way I can, but let's cook first and talk while we eat. I'll make the three of us a hearty breakfast, but I might need a hand. Know how to cook sausages, young Tom?" I was about to say "Yes," but the Spook shook his head at that and came to his feet. "Nay, Father, don't let that lad o' mine near a frying pan! I've tasted his cooking before, and my stomach's still not forgiven me!"I smiled but didn't protest, and while the Spook was busy frying the sausages, Father Stocks got two other pans going -one sizzling away with thick rashers of bacon and slices of onion, the other struggling to contain a large cheese omelet, which was gradually turning a golden brown.I sat at the table while they cooked, hungry but guilty at the same time. My mouth -was watering at the smells wafting toward me, but I couldn't stop worrying about Ellie, Jack, and Mary, wondering if they were all right. They certainly wouldn't be getting a breakfast like this.

I wondered how Alice was doing, too. I'd been half expecting to find that she'd arrived at Downham with news. I hoped she hadn't run into trouble."Well, young Tom," said Father Stocks, "there's something you can do to help without damaging your master's stomach too much. Butter us some bread, and make it a big plateful!"I did as I was told, and no sooner had I finished than three hot plates arrived at the table, each heaped with bacon, sausages, and fried onion next to a big slice of omelet."Had a good journey here from Chipenden?" Father Stocks asked as we tucked into the food."I'm not complaining, but things have taken a turn for the worse since we last spoke," answered the Spook.While we ate, my master told Father Stocks about the raid on Jack's farm and the abduction of my brother and his family. He also mentioned that Alice had traveled on ahead to Pendle. By the time he'd finished the tale, we'd cleared our plates.

"I'm sorry to hear such news, Tom," Father Stocks said, laying his hand on my shoulder. "I'll remember them in my prayers."At those words, an icy chill ran down my spine. He was talking as if they were already dead. In any case, what good were prayers? We'd delayed too long already and needed to start searching. I felt the heat in my face as I started to grow angry. Only politeness made me bite my tongue. Although my dad was dead now, I could still use the manners he'd taught me.It was as if Father Stocks had read my mind. "Don't you worry, Tom," he said in a kindly voice. "We'll put things to rights. Heaven helps those who help themselves-I'm a great believer in that. I'll do what I can, and maybe young Alice will arrive with news before the day's out."I'd hoped that Alice might have called here already," I said."So had I, lad. So had I," said the Spook in a tone of voice that started the anger rising within me again. "Let's hope she's not up to any mischief-"That's unfair after all she's done," I protested. "She's risking her life just by being here."Aren't we all?" asked the Spook. "Look, lad, I don't mean to be hard on the girl, but this will be just about the biggest temptation she's ever faced. I'm not sure it was a good idea letting her come here on her own. Our families play a big part in shaping what we become, and Alice's family are witches. If she ends up back with them, anything could happen!"From what you've told me about her, John, I think we can be optimistic," said Father Stocks. "We may not all have faith in God, but that shouldn't stop us having faith in people. Anyway, she's probably on her way here right now. I might bump into her on my travels."

Father Stocks suddenly grew in my estimation. He was right. The Spook should have more faith in Alice."I'll be off to see what I can find out," the priest continued. "There are still a few good folks in these parts who will want to help an innocent family. By nightfall I'll know where Jack and Ellie are being held, you mark my words. But first there's something else I can do to help." He left the table and returned with a pen, a sheet of paper, and a small bottle of ink. He pushed back the plates, uncorked the ink, dipped in the pen, and began to sketch. After a few moments I realized that he was drawing a map."Well, Tom, no doubt you had a good look at your master's maps of this district before you set off-remembering to fold them properly afterward, of course!" Father Stocks said, smiling toward the Spook, then continuing to draw. "But this little sketch might simplify things and help set a few locations into your mind."The drawing only took him a couple of minutes; he finished by adding in a few place names before pushing it across the table toward me."Can you follow it?" he asked.After a couple of seconds I nodded. He'd sketched out the rough shape of Pendle Hill and the positions of the main villages."Downham, to the north of the hill, is the safest place in Pendle -" said the priest."I told the lad that on the way here," the Spook interrupted, "and it's all due to you, Father Stocks. We're grateful to have a relatively safe place to work from."Nay, John, I couldn't sleep at night if I took all the credit for that. I've certainly done my best to keep the dark at a distance, but historically, as you well know, the danger has always been to the southeast of the hill. So traveling south from here, it's always safest to take the western route and keep the hill to your left. Of course, Gore Rock, marked there to the southwest, can be dangerous, too. It's where witches sometimes carry out sacrifices. But can you see those three villages, Tom? Is my handwriting clear?"

"I think so," I said, and read them out to him just to be sure -"Bareleigh, Roughlee, and Goldshaw Booth." They were the villages that Alice had told me about. Each was home to a witch clan."That's right, Tom, and there, not too far from Goldshaw Booth, on the western edge of Crow Wood, is Malkin Tower. My own name for the area is the Devil's Triangle, because that's where the devil's work is done. Somewhere within that triangle of villages is where we'll find your brother and his family, depending on which clan has taken him -of that I'm sure."What's Witch Dell?" I asked, pointing to the place just north of Bareleigh, marked with a cross.