Ouch! Martin Fartingale rubbed his shin. He had taken two steps in the tiny room and already he’d stubbed his toe and grazed his knee. Everything in England was small and smelly… and, there was a pile of bones and a skull at the end of his bed.

Martin gazed out of the misted-up window and could just make out the sinister shape of a large, rocky island out to sea. A fortress-like building clung to its steep slopes, with castle towers disappearing into the low clouds.

It was once the monastery of the Brothers of St Cecil and the mad monk, Gregor, who, with his henchmen, frequently raided the little fishing village and kidnapped the children to work on the island… but that was back in the dark ages, more than a thousand years ago.

If it had not been for Martin’s ancestor, Uncle Septimus, the village would have ceased to exist… but more about that in the book.

Anyway, Martin decides to explore St Cecils Mount and, through a series of scary mis-adventures, ends up himself a prisoner of Gregor, along with Charlie – her real name is Charlotte, but she only answers to Charlie – Danny, Gus and Nus, witchety bats, friendly rats, an evil smelling vaporous ghost, a dumb knight and lots of other strange creatures.