mine.
‘But only two of us, there are, just me and a girl who’s too young to count. So I needs twelve other witches to form a new coven. Witches who ain’t too bright and won’t expect anything but blood. They’re dangerous to work with, our slimy sisters are, but it could be done . . . It might just work!’
Lizzie never bothered to explain her plan to me. She didn’t sleep that day, and we set off well before dusk. We were quite close to the sea, but the tide was a long way out, and at first all I could see was mile upon mile of flat sands. Then I saw a group of people in the distance, heading towards the shore. There seemed to be a coach and horses down there as well.
‘It’s a dangerous short cut across the sand,’ Lizzie told me. ‘Though there’s a guide who leads parties across, including coaches. We witches have to go round the bay the long way, because at times you have to wade through salt water. Best move on, girl, before they reach the shore and see us!’
However, just as we set off again, there was the sound of barking from the party crossing the sands, and Lizzie pulled me down into a clump of bushes.
‘Could it be? Could it be . . .?’ she whispered. ‘Might just be farm dogs . . . but could I be that lucky? Could I really? Sometimes things are just meant to be, and this could be one of ’em!’
I wondered what Lizzie was ranting on about. Great teacher, she was – always went to great pains to explain what was going on.
There was a tall man with a shaven head walking behind the coach, a big dog on either side of him. I crossed my fingersthey didn’t sniff us out, for they looked like huge wolfhounds.
‘It’s William Arkwright, the spook I told you about,’ Lizzie said excitedly. ‘He’ll be off hunting our slimy sisters further north. Could be away for days. He’ll certainly need the tide to be right before he can cross the bay again. His place will be deserted – couldn’t be better!’
Lizzie didn’t bother to explain anything, but once the party had moved on, reaching the shore at least half a mile further south, she led us forward again.
‘Are we going to the mill where he lives?’ I asked.
‘We are that, girl. There’s a marsh behind the mill that he keeps free of our slimy sisters. But it’s a place that’s sacred to them. While the cat’s away, the mice will play, I’m sure of it. Every water witch for miles around will head for that marsh. And we’ll be there to meet ’em!’
We journeyed on through the night until we came to the canal again, and turned south along its western bank. Before dawn we left the towpath lest we encounter bargemen or anyone else who might identify Lizzie as a witch. But we didn’t rest; if anything, Lizzie drove us on at an even more furious pace. By now the sky was overcast and a light drizzle was wafting into our faces.
At last, about an hour before dusk, we reached the mill that was home to the spook. It was hidden by trees and surrounded by tall iron palings; a ditch marked the boundary of the garden.
I didn’t like the look of that ditch. Lizzie was dragging me into danger again. I wished we could go home. ‘It’s like the moat that encircles Malkin Tower!’ I exclaimed.
‘Aye, girl, that’s exactly what it is, but it’s a very special kind of moat. Arkwright dissolves tubs of salt in it to keep the water witches out.’ I wondered how we’d make it, but Lizzie didn’t seem too bothered. ‘That won’t stop us. Not as difficult a crossing as that big river. You could easily carry me across. Love to explore that old mill, I would. Old Jacob Stone had that leather egg. No doubt Arkwright’s got something hidden too. That’s what spooks do. If they find something useful to the dark, they either destroy it or hide it away from us!’
Lizzie led the way round to the gate and stared at that broken-down old mill for a long time. I kept thinking she’d ask me to carry her across the moat, but finally she shook
‘But only two of us, there are, just me and a girl who’s too young to count. So I needs twelve other witches to form a new coven. Witches who ain’t too bright and won’t expect anything but blood. They’re dangerous to work with, our slimy sisters are, but it could be done . . . It might just work!’
Lizzie never bothered to explain her plan to me. She didn’t sleep that day, and we set off well before dusk. We were quite close to the sea, but the tide was a long way out, and at first all I could see was mile upon mile of flat sands. Then I saw a group of people in the distance, heading towards the shore. There seemed to be a coach and horses down there as well.
‘It’s a dangerous short cut across the sand,’ Lizzie told me. ‘Though there’s a guide who leads parties across, including coaches. We witches have to go round the bay the long way, because at times you have to wade through salt water. Best move on, girl, before they reach the shore and see us!’
However, just as we set off again, there was the sound of barking from the party crossing the sands, and Lizzie pulled me down into a clump of bushes.
‘Could it be? Could it be . . .?’ she whispered. ‘Might just be farm dogs . . . but could I be that lucky? Could I really? Sometimes things are just meant to be, and this could be one of ’em!’
I wondered what Lizzie was ranting on about. Great teacher, she was – always went to great pains to explain what was going on.
There was a tall man with a shaven head walking behind the coach, a big dog on either side of him. I crossed my fingersthey didn’t sniff us out, for they looked like huge wolfhounds.
‘It’s William Arkwright, the spook I told you about,’ Lizzie said excitedly. ‘He’ll be off hunting our slimy sisters further north. Could be away for days. He’ll certainly need the tide to be right before he can cross the bay again. His place will be deserted – couldn’t be better!’
Lizzie didn’t bother to explain anything, but once the party had moved on, reaching the shore at least half a mile further south, she led us forward again.
‘Are we going to the mill where he lives?’ I asked.
‘We are that, girl. There’s a marsh behind the mill that he keeps free of our slimy sisters. But it’s a place that’s sacred to them. While the cat’s away, the mice will play, I’m sure of it. Every water witch for miles around will head for that marsh. And we’ll be there to meet ’em!’
We journeyed on through the night until we came to the canal again, and turned south along its western bank. Before dawn we left the towpath lest we encounter bargemen or anyone else who might identify Lizzie as a witch. But we didn’t rest; if anything, Lizzie drove us on at an even more furious pace. By now the sky was overcast and a light drizzle was wafting into our faces.
At last, about an hour before dusk, we reached the mill that was home to the spook. It was hidden by trees and surrounded by tall iron palings; a ditch marked the boundary of the garden.
I didn’t like the look of that ditch. Lizzie was dragging me into danger again. I wished we could go home. ‘It’s like the moat that encircles Malkin Tower!’ I exclaimed.
‘Aye, girl, that’s exactly what it is, but it’s a very special kind of moat. Arkwright dissolves tubs of salt in it to keep the water witches out.’ I wondered how we’d make it, but Lizzie didn’t seem too bothered. ‘That won’t stop us. Not as difficult a crossing as that big river. You could easily carry me across. Love to explore that old mill, I would. Old Jacob Stone had that leather egg. No doubt Arkwright’s got something hidden too. That’s what spooks do. If they find something useful to the dark, they either destroy it or hide it away from us!’
Lizzie led the way round to the gate and stared at that broken-down old mill for a long time. I kept thinking she’d ask me to carry her across the moat, but finally she shook
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