A lump came into my throat as I heard her utter those words again. Loneliness was a terrible thing, I reflected.

When Jenny first told me her name, I had been stunned, taken back to the vision of the future I’d been given by the mage . . . of the new name added to the list on my bedroom wall in the Chipenden house.

Jenny.

I shrugged in annoyance. Scrying did not always foretell the future accurately. The future could be changed with each decision we made, with every step we took or failed to take.

Jenny’s steps had been in the wrong direction—away from the cellar. She had failed the test, and now her name would never be written on that wall.

Whatever the future might bring, I remembered with a curse that Jenny still had the tinderbox that Dad had given me. I wanted it back. If she didn’t return it, at some point I would have to return to Grimsargh to collect it.

The next two days were quiet. Nobody rang the bell at the withy trees crossroads. So while waiting for Grimalkin to return, I spent my time on routine business. I put in some hours of practice with my chain and staff, determined to get my skills back up to their former level, and taking out my annoyance with Jenny on the tree stump.

I also started to read the Spook’s notebooks again, in case I’d missed any mention of the Kobalos. There was only the short section in the Bestiary, but it comforted me to read my master’s words and to hear his voice in my head.

John Gregory had written and illustrated the Bestiary himself, and now I read his final words about the loss by fire of his beloved library and the books it contained; books that were a bequest from past spooks to those yet to ply their trade.

Now I have had time to reflect, and I am filled with renewed strength and determination. My fight against the dark will continue. One day I will rebuild the library, and this book, my personal Bestiary, will be the first to be placed upon its shelves.

John Gregory of Chipenden

Before he had died in battle, my master had made good that promise. He had rebuilt the house and library. Unfortunately, as yet, there were precious few books restored to those new wooden shelves. That would be my task. During my lifetime as a spook, in addition to fighting the dark, I would endeavor to restock the Chipenden library.

It was early in the morning of the third day after Jenny had fled that Grimalkin arrived. I heard her call through the trees and went to the edge of the garden to escort her to the house and tell the boggart that she was here with my permission.

She’d arrived on horseback, and after taking a large envelope from her saddlebag, she left the animal grazing in the western garden. She greeted me curtly, and we walked toward the house in silence.