Read Online Spook's Secret (wc-3) by Joseph Delaney - Free Book Online

the stone steps, the Spook leading the way. This time I took more notice of my surroundings, trying to fix the underground part of the house in my memory. I'd been down in quite a few cellars, but I had a feeling that this was likely to be the most scary and unusual one yet.
        After the Spook had unlocked the iron gate, he turned and tapped me on the shoulder. 'Meg rarely goes into my study,' he said, 'but whatever happens, don't ever let her get hold of this key'
        I nodded, watching the Spook lock the gate behind us. I looked down ...
        'Why are the steps below so wide?' I asked again.
        'They need to be, lad. Things are fetched and carried down these steps. Workmen need good access-' 'Workmen?'
        'Blacksmiths and stonemasons of course - the trades we depend on in our line of work!'
        As we descended, the Spook leading the way, my candle flickered his shadow up onto the wall, and despite the echo of our boots on the stone steps, I heard the first faint noises from far below. There was a sigh and a distant choking cough. There was definitely something or someone down there!
        There were four levels underground. The first two both had just one door, set into the stone, but at last we came to the third, which had the three doors I'd seen the day before.
        'The middle one, as you know, is where Meg usually sleeps when I'm away' the Spook said.
        Now she'd been given a room upstairs, next to the Spook's, probably so that he could keep an eye on her - though based on the evidence from last night, she preferred to sleep in her rocking chair by the fire.
        'I don't use the others much' continued the Spook, 'but they can be very useful for keeping a witch locked up safely while all the arrangements are made-'
        'You mean while a pit is prepared?'
        'Aye, I do that, lad. As you'll have noticed, it's not like Chipenden here. I don't have the luxury of a garden so I have to make use of the cellar ...'
        The fourth and lowest level was, of course, the cellar itself. Even before we turned the final corner and it came into full view'I could hear things that made the candle tremble in my hand, sending the Spook's shadow dancing wildly.
        There were whisperings and groans and, worst of all, a faint sound of scratching. Being the seventh son of a seventh son I can hear things that most people can't but I never really get used to it. On some days I'm braver than others, that's all I can say. The Spook seemed calm enough but he'd been doing this for a lifetime.
        The cellar was big, even bigger than I'd expected, so big in fact that it must have been larger in area than the actual ground floor of the house. One wall was dripping with water and the low ceiling directly above it was oozing with damp, so I wondered if it was on the edge of the stream or actually underneath it.
        The dry part of the ceiling was covered in cobwebs, so thick and tangled that an army of spiders must have been at work. If just one or two had spun all that, I didn't want to meet them.
        I spent a lot of time looking at the ceiling and walls because I was delaying the moment when I had to look at the ground. But after a few seconds I could feel the Spook's eyes on me so I had no choice and finally forced myself to look down.
        I'd seen what the Spook kept in two of the gardens back at Chipenden. I suppose this was just more of the same, but whereas the graves and pits back there had been scattered among the trees where the sun occasionally shone to dapple the ground with shadows, here there were lots more and I felt trapped, closed in by the four walls and the low cobwebbed ceiling.
        There were nine witch graves in all, each one marked with a gravestone, and in front of this six feet of soil edged with smaller stones. Fastened to those stones by bolts, and covering each patch of earth, were thirteen thick iron bars. They'd been placed