This was the first time I’d seen Tom in action since he’d rescued me from the beast. He seemed very businesslike. A little cold, maybe, but you probably need to remain slightly aloof to function as a spook. You had to keep your anger and fear locked inside in order to do what had to be done.

The sun was going down as we left the village and the weeping parents behind. I was feeling really nervous about confronting this witch. And what was the creature that had crippled the father? I asked Tom about it.

“It’s called a thumper,” he explained as we walked. “It probably killed the dogs, too. It’s part spirit—an elemental born in a dark place—and part spell. The witch will have used dark magic to bind it to her will and strengthen its malevolent power. No doubt it patrols the area around her cottage to drive people away. It should be easy enough to deal with, using salt and iron . . . providing I don’t miss!” He gave a grim smile. “But it’s dangerous, make no mistake about it. A thumper can kill. If anything happens to me, turn and run away as fast as you can.”

“What about the witch?” I asked.

“My silver chain should do the trick!” he said. “It never fails!”

“Providing you don’t miss!” My joke fell flat, even to my own ears, though Tom managed the ghost of a smile. “Will she try to use dark magic against us?” I went on.

“That’s more than likely. But a seventh son of a seventh son has some immunity to witchcraft. Let’s hope that’s also the case for a seventh daughter. We’re about to find out, I suppose. Don’t worry too much. You’re just here as an observer, to watch me and learn. It’ll be over before you can blink.”

By the time we reached the cottage, it was quite dark. A cold wind sighed through the trees, and the sky was patchy with fast-moving clouds. The moon was up there somewhere, but at the moment it was hidden from view.

Tom pointed up through the trees. They were mainly sycamore and ash and covered a small hill, with the cottage at its summit. I could see a faint flickering light in the distance.

“That’s a candle in one of the cottage windows,” he said, “so I’m pretty sure she’s at home. It would be better to wait until daybreak, but there’s a slim chance that the child’s still alive. It’s dangerous, but we have to take the risk. It’s our duty, and we always put that before our own lives. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, beginning to tremble with fear. I sensed that Tom was nervous as well, but you wouldn’t have guessed it by looking at him. And there were other things emanating from him, too: determination, fear for the child, and a sense of duty.

“Whatever you do, Jenny, stay close behind me,” he instructed. “First I’ll deal with the thumper, and then the witch.”