I smiled with satisfaction as Jenny completed this stage perfectly. Of course, it was far more difficult on a real job. Nerves could be a problem; your hands might shake and your palms sweat.

Jenny was still holding the chain and concentrating. You had to relax the hooks a little, then give a flick. If you got it right, they came free, leaving the dish at the bottom of the pit.

She gave a cry of frustration. She was close, but she hadn’t yet gotten the knack. Two of the chains had come free; the other hadn’t. It tipped the dish over onto its side, spilling all the milk.

“Don’t worry about it,” I told her. “Have five minutes’ rest and then try again. It took me weeks of practice to get it right. Better still, why don’t you go down into the village and collect this week’s groceries?”

Jenny did just that, and on her return successfully set the dish down on the floor of the pit and released the hooks. Not one drop of milk was spilled.

I was pleased. Her training was going well, and I liked working with her. My loneliness was fading by the day.

Our recent encounter with Bibby Longtooth had been traumatic—especially when we found the bones of the children in her cottage afterward, some still wet with blood. It had resembled a butcher’s shop. For a few days I had wondered if Jenny would ever get over the experience, but now she seemed much more cheerful.

John Gregory had trained so many boys who didn’t make the grade; lots ran away and didn’t complete their training. I really wanted my first apprentice to become a spook. I wanted it to work out. It was still very early days, but I had high hopes for Jenny.

As she had promised, Grimalkin returned within the week. “You have read the notes I made on the investigations into the Kobalos war beasts?” she demanded.

I nodded.

“And you saw varteki in action—young ones, at that. So you see how dangerous the threat is . . . ?”

“It’s very much worse than I imagined,” I agreed. So it was that when she asked me once more to accompany her on her journey north, I found it difficult to refuse. It now seemed the right thing to do.

“We would be away for two months—three at the most,” she told me. “Surely you can spare that much time?”

“What about Jenny? It hardly seems fair to drag her off into such danger so early in her apprenticeship. She’s enjoying her training and making real progress,” I replied.

“Bring her with you. We will all learn together. Learn we must if we are to have any chance at all of defeating this terrible and powerful enemy. Or, if you prefer, give her the choice of staying here. You can continue her training on your return.”

As she’d once done before, when preparing for the Battle of the Wardstone, Grimalkin set up camp in the garden. Up in the library, I broke the news to Jenny.