The men carved a stone to go over the pit and fitted it with iron bars. Once Tom had rolled the witch into the pit, they set to work, lowering it into place while she glared up at them with wild eyes, spitting and cursing.

At last the witch was safe in the pit, but I still felt nauseous. I thought I would enjoy being a spook’s apprentice, but now I have real doubts about the job.

It’s dark, terrible work. Nobody should have to see the sights we do and face witches like Bibby Longtooth—and, what’s worse, see what they’ve done.

I’m not sure about being a spook now. I’m not sure at all.

Never until my dying day will I forget those little bones . . . the bones of all those children.

Thomas Ward

17

Practical Lessons

TWO days ago we captured a malevolent bone witch called Bibby Longtooth and brought her back to Chipenden. Now she’s safely bound within a pit. But we were unable to save the child she’d snatched, and Jenny took it badly. She told me that she was thinking of ending her apprenticeship. It was hard to talk her out of it, but I remembered my early days of doubt; I’d once gone back to the farm and begged my mam to let me give up the job. I told Jenny how my mam had been right to refuse, that I’d achieved a lot—and she would too.

The only way I could snap her out of her despondency was to work her hard. So her training began in earnest. Each morning now, we visited the six-foot post in the western garden and I let Jenny practice with my silver chain, something she really enjoyed. From a distance of eight feet, she was able to cast the chain over the stump successfully two out of every three times she tried. It had taken me a long time before I managed a sequence of one hundred perfect casts. She was making good progress.

I demonstrated the casting technique for her again. “Look . . . you must coil it over your left hand like this, and then flick your wrist so that it falls in a left-handed spiral. Ideally it should cover a good part of the witch’s body, from her head to her knees. Get it across her mouth, and she can’t mutter spells at you.” I cast the chain, and lit by the morning sun, its shining spiral seemed to pause in midair before falling perfectly and tightening against the post.

“Of course, you have to keep practicing,” I told Jenny as I collected the chain and handed it back to her. “It’s a skill that should be honed, not just for your apprenticeship but during the whole of your subsequent life as a spook. And don’t forget—this is just a post. As you saw the other night, a witch won’t stand still for you! Later, when you improve, you can practice casting the chain from different distances, and then while on the run. You can use me as a target.”